Ha!!!
Not exactly sure if it was a hearing, or she got an attorney or what happened, but I was informed by DH yesterday that NMIL cannot boot the Family out of their house. She has no grounds. Doesn't matter if she had a contract with them to fix the basement by June 1. They are fixing the place up, treating it well and have continued to pay their payments each month.
She did NOT get her way. Still not sure what the Family will do. Stay and continue to have to deal with her as the "owner" until they can get a normal loan and buy her out or dump the house and run.
Either way, so glad she was told NO!
She is trying to torment DH again though. She "requested" his presence yet again to show her how to upload pictures and sell something on Ebay like he's shown her 15 TIMES before. The request was just a stunt to get him over there. When he got there, NMIL had all her jewelry out spread out all over the place. She does this occasionally. She loves to look at it and it must make her feel good. Once he arrived, NMIL made the announcement: "I've decided that NOBODY is getting any of my jewelry. I'm demanding that you and Crusty (DH's sister) sell all the jewelry and then give the funds to the charity of my choice."
So?
Nobody gives a rats ass about her jewelry but her. I have no sentimental attachment to her or anything she has. Most of it is her style jewelry picked up in garage sales and estate sales. Not saying the pieces aren't worth anything, but she collects for the sake of saying she bought an expensive piece for .25 cents. It means NOTHING. Her own daughter wears no makeup, and barely any jewelry. Why she thinks anyone cares is all in her own mind.
Once DH got home and got off the phone with his sister who he told about their mother's new declaration, he and she had a good laugh. DH and Crusty are the only ones in the will besides the grandchildren (and likely not mine). Furthermore, DH is most likely the executor. They've already agreed that she's going to be dead!! WTF is she going to do to make sure they comply? I agree with this since the attorney isn't going to oversee what happens. He'll accept whatever they say anyway. Who's to know what's in her freaking jewelry pile? Who's to say they don't remove what they want, and sell the rest of the shit? The bitch will be DEAD. If nobody complains how the estate is divided, the attorney isn't going to give a RIP. That's why there are executors. Which will be MY HUSBAND. I've been through this process with both of my parents, and with Jon's dad. I know how involved the attorney gets. Not very. I also have worked as a paralegal for a trust and estates attorney. I know the process. Even better, NMIL has a "Living Trust" which she thinks she's so damn smart for having because that means nothing has to go through probate, which only makes it easier for DH and his sister to whatever they want with it anyway because as soon as she dies the trust immediately reverts ownership to the beneficiaries without probate. She's so smart she's screwed herself!
This is the one time the cock sure narcissist is so convinced she's going to get her way, even when she's dead, that she doesn't realize how her sick wishes have already been screwed over.
This amuses me.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
No Place Like Home - A Horror Story
I’m not sure why it surprises me when NMIL does something worse than she’s ever done before. Surely she can get worse, she always has. This time, however, her claws aren’t into my family. She’s actually been relatively quiet so-to-speak, and now I know why.
When NMIL built her house across the street, she built it so that her basement was a complete apartment with two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, dining area and small living room. There is even a laundry area. I won’t go into the reasons she does this for this story, but I needed to include this apartment in an explanation.
About three years ago a family who had filed for bankruptcy needed a place to stay while they saved money and improved their credit in order to build a house on property they owned. NMIL’s previous renter moved out and suggested to NMIL that this family may want to rent the apartment. Sure enough, they did. The problem as I see it, was that in this family was a mother, a father and four children under the age of 5 living in this small space with two bedrooms. But, they did it. They lived there for almost three years. While they lived there, all seemed fine with NMIL. She seemed to really like them and you know … was there best friend, charming, giving, blah blah blah. She bought gifts for the little girls, and cooed over them and in general was the wonderful landlady.
I never had much to do with them. I thought they were odd. They NEVER let their oldest two play in the yard, even when they kids were older, never let them come over to our house, never let their kids play with mine on the swing set in the backyard. It’s almost like they acted like they were too good for us. After a while, I suspected that NMIL had bitched about me to them and they believed her stories and that’s why they didn’t have anything to do with me or my kids. They LOVED DH though. Always said hi, waved when they drove by. No big to me. I just ignored them.
Fast forward to February of this year.
A house on the other cul-de-sac in my neighborhood had gone up for sale. It was severely damaged by the previous owners who moved out in the middle of the night because they were about to be foreclosed on. The bank who took over did not winterize it. Over the winter, the pipes blew and flooded the home. In the summer, mold crept up the walls and it began to stink until someone realized the home was not winterized. It was a huge mess and the entire basement had to be ripped out, and much of the upstairs drywall as well. It was a shame because the house wasn’t even 10 years old and stupidity basically ruined it.
Since the home was for sale dirt cheap, NMIL purchased the home and then sold it on Land Contract to the basement family who had since decided not to build on their land. They couldn’t get any decent loans anyway. The deal was that NMIL would provide the supplies and the Family Father would fix the home and make it livable. He did this FOR FREE. He worked for weeks, including help from DH FOR FREE, ripping out the walls, the disgusting soaking wet, moldy carpet, etc. Within two months, the home was inhabitable, and the family moved in the end of March. They were so excited to have home, and bedrooms for everyone. The basement was going to be a family and playroom for the girls, but it was yet unfinished, but in progress. I did not know this, but apparently in the Land Contract there was a stipulation in there by NMIL that Family Father had to finish the basement by June 1. Why that was in there I don’t know. There is no reason for it to be finished. None at all. He was doing all the work, and they were living there. He and his wife have full time jobs and four children to raise. It gave him two months to finish the basement.
This is where controlling NMIL comes into the picture.
Apparently NMIL changed her mind all the time. She told him the things she wanted done, and how to do it. What colors to use, and where to put up walls, etc. etc. Constantly she was changing her mind, and this caused the work to slow and the Family Father to start getting pissed. She rode his ass to get it finished. She did this because she loves power, loves wielding it and feeling like someone important. She loves people to jump when she says so, and if you don't ... watch out. She came over whenever she wanted, and even went so far as to purchase art and knick knacks for the house and DECORATE it. Literally -- she was decorating their home with shit they didn’t want. She continued to ride their ass, and say nasty things to the Family Mother to the point it would make her cry. Apparently one night they called my husband over to help Family Father do something and when NMIL found out, she went over to their house in a drunken rage getting up into Family Mother’s face and pointing her finger in her face screaming “DON’T YOU EVER CALL MY SON (there’s that MY SON shit again) FOR ANYTHING WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!” I’m telling you, she thinks she owns him.
Come June 1 when the basement wasn’t done, she filed papers to boot them out of the house. This family has done NOTHING to her. In fact, they did all the labor for free. They made their payments on time, were taking care of the house. The only thing was that NMIL was pissed because they were arguing with her about her horrific, unreasonable demands. NMIL isn’t going to lose, ever. She doesn’t give a fig about the family, or their little girls finally being settled or anything. All she gives a shit about is winning. She’ll simply toss them out because they haven’t done exactly what the contract says. Never mind I’m not entirely sure she can do that.
Long story short the family is giving up the house. They have an attorney, but they don’t even care if they win in court, because wining only means she stays the person who owns their house and they don’t want to have anything to do with her. The Family Mother is beside herself. Lamenting that they were “so happy” finally and now NMIL is doing this to them.
Just goes to show you to NEVER, NOT EVER let take anything from a narcissist, even a loan, because they will screw you over and hold it over your head until your dying day. This is why NMIL hasn’t bothered with us or annoyed DH too much. She’s getting her supply from here and it’s THE ONLY PLACE she can get it. Once this is done, she’ll turn back to us, but DH is already stepping away from her. There isn’t much left.
I’ve tried to talk to this family about NMIL’s NPD, because they don’t understand. Strangely, whenever I go over there to talk to them, there is nobody home. The blinds are down and you can’t see anything but a chair and an end table through the front door. For all I know they’ve moved out and left that so that’s the only thing you can see and they aren’t telling anyone. I suspect something is up, but I’m keeping my mouth shut. I wouldn’t feel bad to watch the house get destroyed all over again.
It would serve that bitch right.
When NMIL built her house across the street, she built it so that her basement was a complete apartment with two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, dining area and small living room. There is even a laundry area. I won’t go into the reasons she does this for this story, but I needed to include this apartment in an explanation.
About three years ago a family who had filed for bankruptcy needed a place to stay while they saved money and improved their credit in order to build a house on property they owned. NMIL’s previous renter moved out and suggested to NMIL that this family may want to rent the apartment. Sure enough, they did. The problem as I see it, was that in this family was a mother, a father and four children under the age of 5 living in this small space with two bedrooms. But, they did it. They lived there for almost three years. While they lived there, all seemed fine with NMIL. She seemed to really like them and you know … was there best friend, charming, giving, blah blah blah. She bought gifts for the little girls, and cooed over them and in general was the wonderful landlady.
I never had much to do with them. I thought they were odd. They NEVER let their oldest two play in the yard, even when they kids were older, never let them come over to our house, never let their kids play with mine on the swing set in the backyard. It’s almost like they acted like they were too good for us. After a while, I suspected that NMIL had bitched about me to them and they believed her stories and that’s why they didn’t have anything to do with me or my kids. They LOVED DH though. Always said hi, waved when they drove by. No big to me. I just ignored them.
Fast forward to February of this year.
A house on the other cul-de-sac in my neighborhood had gone up for sale. It was severely damaged by the previous owners who moved out in the middle of the night because they were about to be foreclosed on. The bank who took over did not winterize it. Over the winter, the pipes blew and flooded the home. In the summer, mold crept up the walls and it began to stink until someone realized the home was not winterized. It was a huge mess and the entire basement had to be ripped out, and much of the upstairs drywall as well. It was a shame because the house wasn’t even 10 years old and stupidity basically ruined it.
Since the home was for sale dirt cheap, NMIL purchased the home and then sold it on Land Contract to the basement family who had since decided not to build on their land. They couldn’t get any decent loans anyway. The deal was that NMIL would provide the supplies and the Family Father would fix the home and make it livable. He did this FOR FREE. He worked for weeks, including help from DH FOR FREE, ripping out the walls, the disgusting soaking wet, moldy carpet, etc. Within two months, the home was inhabitable, and the family moved in the end of March. They were so excited to have home, and bedrooms for everyone. The basement was going to be a family and playroom for the girls, but it was yet unfinished, but in progress. I did not know this, but apparently in the Land Contract there was a stipulation in there by NMIL that Family Father had to finish the basement by June 1. Why that was in there I don’t know. There is no reason for it to be finished. None at all. He was doing all the work, and they were living there. He and his wife have full time jobs and four children to raise. It gave him two months to finish the basement.
This is where controlling NMIL comes into the picture.
Apparently NMIL changed her mind all the time. She told him the things she wanted done, and how to do it. What colors to use, and where to put up walls, etc. etc. Constantly she was changing her mind, and this caused the work to slow and the Family Father to start getting pissed. She rode his ass to get it finished. She did this because she loves power, loves wielding it and feeling like someone important. She loves people to jump when she says so, and if you don't ... watch out. She came over whenever she wanted, and even went so far as to purchase art and knick knacks for the house and DECORATE it. Literally -- she was decorating their home with shit they didn’t want. She continued to ride their ass, and say nasty things to the Family Mother to the point it would make her cry. Apparently one night they called my husband over to help Family Father do something and when NMIL found out, she went over to their house in a drunken rage getting up into Family Mother’s face and pointing her finger in her face screaming “DON’T YOU EVER CALL MY SON (there’s that MY SON shit again) FOR ANYTHING WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!” I’m telling you, she thinks she owns him.
Come June 1 when the basement wasn’t done, she filed papers to boot them out of the house. This family has done NOTHING to her. In fact, they did all the labor for free. They made their payments on time, were taking care of the house. The only thing was that NMIL was pissed because they were arguing with her about her horrific, unreasonable demands. NMIL isn’t going to lose, ever. She doesn’t give a fig about the family, or their little girls finally being settled or anything. All she gives a shit about is winning. She’ll simply toss them out because they haven’t done exactly what the contract says. Never mind I’m not entirely sure she can do that.
Long story short the family is giving up the house. They have an attorney, but they don’t even care if they win in court, because wining only means she stays the person who owns their house and they don’t want to have anything to do with her. The Family Mother is beside herself. Lamenting that they were “so happy” finally and now NMIL is doing this to them.
Just goes to show you to NEVER, NOT EVER let take anything from a narcissist, even a loan, because they will screw you over and hold it over your head until your dying day. This is why NMIL hasn’t bothered with us or annoyed DH too much. She’s getting her supply from here and it’s THE ONLY PLACE she can get it. Once this is done, she’ll turn back to us, but DH is already stepping away from her. There isn’t much left.
I’ve tried to talk to this family about NMIL’s NPD, because they don’t understand. Strangely, whenever I go over there to talk to them, there is nobody home. The blinds are down and you can’t see anything but a chair and an end table through the front door. For all I know they’ve moved out and left that so that’s the only thing you can see and they aren’t telling anyone. I suspect something is up, but I’m keeping my mouth shut. I wouldn’t feel bad to watch the house get destroyed all over again.
It would serve that bitch right.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
But I Said No!
This entry will be another branch off the previous entry related to gifts. MIL likes to give gifts whether you want them or not. Every time I think of this particular situation I get angry, because it was overt ONLY to me.
MIL likes to garage sale. One day she purchased a used, plastic Fisher Price kitchen set and called me to ask if I wanted it for our almost three year old daughter (Eldest). I told her no, because I wanted to buy a kitchen set myself for our daughter when she was a little older. This was something I was saving to do when our daughter was about five. I was really excited about it, but wanted to have one when she could appreciate it more. As a kid I loved my kitchen set and wanted to be a part of the one we got our daughter. I told my MIL this as part of the reason to politely tell her no, and the reason why. Why I was so nice to that bitch for years I’ll never know. She never deserved it.
About a half hour after I told MIL “no” to the garage sale kitchen set, I was heading upstairs with laundry to fold when DH called me out to the garage. When I got out there I saw that, despite my wishes, MIL had brought over the kitchen set, including plastic food and toy dishes, set them down, got my daughter and let her start playing with it. I stood there in complete shock, taking in what she just did. I looked over to see that evil hag give me a huge smile and waved her hand at my daughter who was playing with the kitchen set and said: “See? See how much she loves it?!!” I was so upset. If I took the kitchen set away, I’d look like the bad guy to my three year old. MIL knew exactly what she was doing. My husband was clueless to all of it. He wasn’t aware she’d just called and asked if we wanted it and that I said “no,” and that she completely undermined my wishes. The entire happy scene just looked like MIL was being an awesome grandma! I'm sure my husband was thinking "look at what a nice and fun thing my mom did!!" I knew that if I were to say anything, anything at all, I’d look like a complaining, unreasonable brat.
A few minutes later MIL followed me into the house and gloated over how much my daughter loved the kitchen set. I was barely listening to her while cleaning up the kitchen. Cleaning the kitchen was the only excuse I could find so I didn't have to look at her or really engage with her, lest I rip her hair out. At one point while she was carrying on with her gloat and trying to convince me what she did was perfectly fine, MIL reached out and put her hand on my arm/wrist as if to stop me from walking away from her. Bad move. I was already trying maintain my calm, so her touching me was like acid. I stopped what I was doing, glared at her hand grabbing me and immediately yanked my hand away from her. When I did this, my arm did an unconscious flail away from her and my arm went in a big loop as it was pulled out of her grasp. She didn’t even bat an eye or acknowledge what I had just done. At the time I did it, I thought “oops, way to show her that you can’t stand her, M.A.” but she didn’t even appear to notice. I thought that was weird.
After MIL finished her yapping, about five minutes later, she went home. A few hours later when things has calmed down and our daughter was in bed, MIL called DH on the phone and told him that when she was in the kitchen talking to me that I “physically attacked her.” She was twisting the story of HER grabbing ME and stating that I “attacked” her. It was absurd. This was another one of her colossal lies. One that was so preposterous as to be funny if it weren’t so fucked up. As if she’d wait four hours to tell her beloved son that I “attacked her” if I really had. What a joke. DH of course didn’t believe it, but he let his mom get away with behavior like that all the time. He questions me, gets my answer, realizes his mother was lying again, and blows it off.
It has been issues like this over years and years that just sent me over the edge. When I relive these experiences and write them down I get so upset with myself. Why did I allow her to do this to me over and over? This was par for the course with her. And every time I just let her walk all over me!! This is why I now have no patience with her, no sympathy for her, no good will, no desire to think the best, no tolerance left AT ALL.
MIL likes to garage sale. One day she purchased a used, plastic Fisher Price kitchen set and called me to ask if I wanted it for our almost three year old daughter (Eldest). I told her no, because I wanted to buy a kitchen set myself for our daughter when she was a little older. This was something I was saving to do when our daughter was about five. I was really excited about it, but wanted to have one when she could appreciate it more. As a kid I loved my kitchen set and wanted to be a part of the one we got our daughter. I told my MIL this as part of the reason to politely tell her no, and the reason why. Why I was so nice to that bitch for years I’ll never know. She never deserved it.
About a half hour after I told MIL “no” to the garage sale kitchen set, I was heading upstairs with laundry to fold when DH called me out to the garage. When I got out there I saw that, despite my wishes, MIL had brought over the kitchen set, including plastic food and toy dishes, set them down, got my daughter and let her start playing with it. I stood there in complete shock, taking in what she just did. I looked over to see that evil hag give me a huge smile and waved her hand at my daughter who was playing with the kitchen set and said: “See? See how much she loves it?!!” I was so upset. If I took the kitchen set away, I’d look like the bad guy to my three year old. MIL knew exactly what she was doing. My husband was clueless to all of it. He wasn’t aware she’d just called and asked if we wanted it and that I said “no,” and that she completely undermined my wishes. The entire happy scene just looked like MIL was being an awesome grandma! I'm sure my husband was thinking "look at what a nice and fun thing my mom did!!" I knew that if I were to say anything, anything at all, I’d look like a complaining, unreasonable brat.
A few minutes later MIL followed me into the house and gloated over how much my daughter loved the kitchen set. I was barely listening to her while cleaning up the kitchen. Cleaning the kitchen was the only excuse I could find so I didn't have to look at her or really engage with her, lest I rip her hair out. At one point while she was carrying on with her gloat and trying to convince me what she did was perfectly fine, MIL reached out and put her hand on my arm/wrist as if to stop me from walking away from her. Bad move. I was already trying maintain my calm, so her touching me was like acid. I stopped what I was doing, glared at her hand grabbing me and immediately yanked my hand away from her. When I did this, my arm did an unconscious flail away from her and my arm went in a big loop as it was pulled out of her grasp. She didn’t even bat an eye or acknowledge what I had just done. At the time I did it, I thought “oops, way to show her that you can’t stand her, M.A.” but she didn’t even appear to notice. I thought that was weird.
After MIL finished her yapping, about five minutes later, she went home. A few hours later when things has calmed down and our daughter was in bed, MIL called DH on the phone and told him that when she was in the kitchen talking to me that I “physically attacked her.” She was twisting the story of HER grabbing ME and stating that I “attacked” her. It was absurd. This was another one of her colossal lies. One that was so preposterous as to be funny if it weren’t so fucked up. As if she’d wait four hours to tell her beloved son that I “attacked her” if I really had. What a joke. DH of course didn’t believe it, but he let his mom get away with behavior like that all the time. He questions me, gets my answer, realizes his mother was lying again, and blows it off.
It has been issues like this over years and years that just sent me over the edge. When I relive these experiences and write them down I get so upset with myself. Why did I allow her to do this to me over and over? This was par for the course with her. And every time I just let her walk all over me!! This is why I now have no patience with her, no sympathy for her, no good will, no desire to think the best, no tolerance left AT ALL.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Stealing Her Thunder
We had a tiny, blessed little bit of progress yesterday, and I could have done a dance.
As I may have said before, DH is trying to understand, and it is oh so hard for him. And I’m trying to teach him, while getting the feeling from him that he isn’t interested. But he is listening and last night proved it.
We have been LC with MIL for four months now and the girls have really only seen MIL twice for any length of time. That time length being less than 15 minutes. That is going to change though.
The second week of June we are going to South Dakota for a large family reunion that is to span four days. We’ll only be there for three. This is DH’s side of the family. Namely MIL’s two older brothers and their wives have planned this entire event. These are the Uncles who stepped up at our wedding and paid for and planned our “rehearsal” dinner the night before our wedding. These are the uncles who went out of the way to do something nice, AND who made sure to keep MIL away from us that same evening when she was stumbling around drunk. They know all about their fucked up sister. Of course, though, MIL plans on being there. This should prove to be very interesting and very TOXIC. Not only do I know for a fact that MIL will drink until she’s sloppy drunk and spewing meanness, she doesn’t even LIKE her family and they don’t like her. Throw in the fact that I can’t stand her, and her two granddaughters don’t want to have anything to do with her and it’s going to get ugly. Why exactly?
Because MIL is going to play pretend that everything is just fine. That I love her, that she loves living in the same state as us and everything is going great, that her granddaughters love their grandma because she's so awesome. She (without saying it) will fully expect that we play along with her fantasy. She’s going to expect it because that’s what we’ve always done. Until now that is. When that doesn’t happen, when the fantasy she’s built up fails around her, she’s going to melt down like, well, the Wicked Witch of the West. I am prepared to be as pleasant as possible, but this will entail keeping away from her entirely, as well as keeping the girls away from her. If she’s in the same room as us and she thinks she’s going to call the girls over to say, Aunt Junie B, and have a sweet granny conversation to show HER granddaughters off like she’s Grandma of the Year, MIL is going to have a rude awakening. I plan to ignore her. I will walk away and pretend she isn’t even in the room. Let her explain to whoever what the hell THAT was about. If asked by anyone, I will tell them the truth. That she’s not nice, and she’s nasty to the girls and the girls don’t want to have anything to do with her. Because of that, even at a family reunion, we will keep them away from her. I do not intend to make a huge deal about it or carry on a gossipy conversation, but I am done protecting her and acting like everything is fine. As they say – drag the evil shadow out into the light and watch it shrivel and die. Every one of these relatives KNOW her. None of them have a relationship with her for a reason. I don’t foresee backlash from ANYONE about speaking the truth.
What’s scheduled to happen is that MIL is flying to SIL’s state, visit for a few days and then MIL and SIL and BIL and their kids are all going to drive to South Dakota for the reunion. We will meet them there. It lasts through Sunday. SIL called and talked to DH a few weeks ago and wanted to know if they could take our girls back to Colorado with them to stay for a few weeks. Initially, I was flipped out about this. I don’t want them NEAR MIL. MIL will be in that van and then will stay one more day and a half until she flies back home. That gives MIL any number of opportunities to sink her claws into our girls. I was practically hyperventilating. Even the girls got wide eye’d and said they weren’t sure they wanted go with them. Let me tell you, our girls ADORE going to Colorado to be with their aunt and cousins. There is nothing they’d rather do more. So that tells you just how much they don’t want to be around that wench if they were considering not going. After some discussions, we decided it would be okay if SIL and family promises to keep them protected. They will only have to be with her a day and a half before she leaves anyway. Trust me when I say, SIL, as much as she annoys ME, is kind of a bitchy pit bull when it comes to her mother. She doesn’t put up with too much crap from her, which is why MIL has visited SIL maybe three times in 12 years. It’s no fun for MIL. There’s no supply for her there, nobody puts up with her for very long. Even my BIL puts her in her place without blinking an eye.
So, fast forward to yesterday when DH goes over to MIL’s to do some task and mentions to MIL that the girls are going back to Colorado with them after the reunion. MIL blew a gasket! DH was shocked. He said it was like a light switch flipped. She instantly got pissy, saying she didn’t want them going to Colorado because it would interrupt HER time with SIL. As if MIL cares about time with SIL. She's avoided her for 12 years. But she isn't getting the narc supply from us anymore, so she's going to give SIL's family another shot. And now, a visit by our girls will put a cramp into that. If the girls are around, they are naturally going to suck ALL of the attention out of the room. Every last drop. MIL knows this. My SIL, to her credit, is an elementary school teacher and loves children. My husband is probably the one person she has the closest relationship with anyone else in the world (besides her husband) and these are her brother’s kids. BIL just retired from being a high school teacher and also loves kids. The girls two cousin’s will be home from college and they like spending time with them as well. The girls worship their cousins because they are the cooler older kids, but who actually like being with their cousins, even if they are near tweens. It will definitely be ALL about the girls. So sad for MIL. Boo hoo.
When DH tried to placate MIL she said petulantly, “Well, I’m just not going then!!” Really? Because our kids are going to be around for a day and half of her seven day visit to Colorado and South Dakota, she’ll blow off the entire trip AND the family reunion? Judas. What a drama lama!!
When DH got home he was actually amused. AMUSED. He called his sister to tell her the latest on his mother and I heard some of the discussion. These are some of the things he said.
“ Yeah, I mean, it was instant, like a flip switched. She was so pissed off. I couldn’t believe it.”
“I don’t think she’ll go to counseling . . . Nope . . . so, what if she does, she’s just going to LIE to the therapist. And what good is that? Counseling with her is pointless.”
“I know, but it’s not so much that. Mom’s problem is this this whole Narcissistic Personality Disorder she has. It isn’t fixable. She isn’t going to change.”
Holy shit. Did you read that? DID YOU READ THAT?
DH is paying attention. *snoopy dance*
As I may have said before, DH is trying to understand, and it is oh so hard for him. And I’m trying to teach him, while getting the feeling from him that he isn’t interested. But he is listening and last night proved it.
We have been LC with MIL for four months now and the girls have really only seen MIL twice for any length of time. That time length being less than 15 minutes. That is going to change though.
The second week of June we are going to South Dakota for a large family reunion that is to span four days. We’ll only be there for three. This is DH’s side of the family. Namely MIL’s two older brothers and their wives have planned this entire event. These are the Uncles who stepped up at our wedding and paid for and planned our “rehearsal” dinner the night before our wedding. These are the uncles who went out of the way to do something nice, AND who made sure to keep MIL away from us that same evening when she was stumbling around drunk. They know all about their fucked up sister. Of course, though, MIL plans on being there. This should prove to be very interesting and very TOXIC. Not only do I know for a fact that MIL will drink until she’s sloppy drunk and spewing meanness, she doesn’t even LIKE her family and they don’t like her. Throw in the fact that I can’t stand her, and her two granddaughters don’t want to have anything to do with her and it’s going to get ugly. Why exactly?
Because MIL is going to play pretend that everything is just fine. That I love her, that she loves living in the same state as us and everything is going great, that her granddaughters love their grandma because she's so awesome. She (without saying it) will fully expect that we play along with her fantasy. She’s going to expect it because that’s what we’ve always done. Until now that is. When that doesn’t happen, when the fantasy she’s built up fails around her, she’s going to melt down like, well, the Wicked Witch of the West. I am prepared to be as pleasant as possible, but this will entail keeping away from her entirely, as well as keeping the girls away from her. If she’s in the same room as us and she thinks she’s going to call the girls over to say, Aunt Junie B, and have a sweet granny conversation to show HER granddaughters off like she’s Grandma of the Year, MIL is going to have a rude awakening. I plan to ignore her. I will walk away and pretend she isn’t even in the room. Let her explain to whoever what the hell THAT was about. If asked by anyone, I will tell them the truth. That she’s not nice, and she’s nasty to the girls and the girls don’t want to have anything to do with her. Because of that, even at a family reunion, we will keep them away from her. I do not intend to make a huge deal about it or carry on a gossipy conversation, but I am done protecting her and acting like everything is fine. As they say – drag the evil shadow out into the light and watch it shrivel and die. Every one of these relatives KNOW her. None of them have a relationship with her for a reason. I don’t foresee backlash from ANYONE about speaking the truth.
What’s scheduled to happen is that MIL is flying to SIL’s state, visit for a few days and then MIL and SIL and BIL and their kids are all going to drive to South Dakota for the reunion. We will meet them there. It lasts through Sunday. SIL called and talked to DH a few weeks ago and wanted to know if they could take our girls back to Colorado with them to stay for a few weeks. Initially, I was flipped out about this. I don’t want them NEAR MIL. MIL will be in that van and then will stay one more day and a half until she flies back home. That gives MIL any number of opportunities to sink her claws into our girls. I was practically hyperventilating. Even the girls got wide eye’d and said they weren’t sure they wanted go with them. Let me tell you, our girls ADORE going to Colorado to be with their aunt and cousins. There is nothing they’d rather do more. So that tells you just how much they don’t want to be around that wench if they were considering not going. After some discussions, we decided it would be okay if SIL and family promises to keep them protected. They will only have to be with her a day and a half before she leaves anyway. Trust me when I say, SIL, as much as she annoys ME, is kind of a bitchy pit bull when it comes to her mother. She doesn’t put up with too much crap from her, which is why MIL has visited SIL maybe three times in 12 years. It’s no fun for MIL. There’s no supply for her there, nobody puts up with her for very long. Even my BIL puts her in her place without blinking an eye.
So, fast forward to yesterday when DH goes over to MIL’s to do some task and mentions to MIL that the girls are going back to Colorado with them after the reunion. MIL blew a gasket! DH was shocked. He said it was like a light switch flipped. She instantly got pissy, saying she didn’t want them going to Colorado because it would interrupt HER time with SIL. As if MIL cares about time with SIL. She's avoided her for 12 years. But she isn't getting the narc supply from us anymore, so she's going to give SIL's family another shot. And now, a visit by our girls will put a cramp into that. If the girls are around, they are naturally going to suck ALL of the attention out of the room. Every last drop. MIL knows this. My SIL, to her credit, is an elementary school teacher and loves children. My husband is probably the one person she has the closest relationship with anyone else in the world (besides her husband) and these are her brother’s kids. BIL just retired from being a high school teacher and also loves kids. The girls two cousin’s will be home from college and they like spending time with them as well. The girls worship their cousins because they are the cooler older kids, but who actually like being with their cousins, even if they are near tweens. It will definitely be ALL about the girls. So sad for MIL. Boo hoo.
When DH tried to placate MIL she said petulantly, “Well, I’m just not going then!!” Really? Because our kids are going to be around for a day and half of her seven day visit to Colorado and South Dakota, she’ll blow off the entire trip AND the family reunion? Judas. What a drama lama!!
When DH got home he was actually amused. AMUSED. He called his sister to tell her the latest on his mother and I heard some of the discussion. These are some of the things he said.
“ Yeah, I mean, it was instant, like a flip switched. She was so pissed off. I couldn’t believe it.”
“I don’t think she’ll go to counseling . . . Nope . . . so, what if she does, she’s just going to LIE to the therapist. And what good is that? Counseling with her is pointless.”
“I know, but it’s not so much that. Mom’s problem is this this whole Narcissistic Personality Disorder she has. It isn’t fixable. She isn’t going to change.”
Holy shit. Did you read that? DID YOU READ THAT?
DH is paying attention. *snoopy dance*
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Mine, Mine, Mine, Mine
Most people who know anything about N’s know that they have a hang up on gifts. Giving them specifically. I learned very early on that accepting anything from MIL was fraught with peril and came with strings -- always. And it doesn’t even have to be gifts. She could turn ME doing a favor for HER into something I should feel guilty and ashamed of. It was unbelievable.
Pretty early into our dating relationship, MIL asked me to do her a favor around Christmas time. She wanted me to pick something up for DH for her and wrap it, or at least that’s what I recall I did. It was so long ago I don’t remember specifics exactly, but I she asked if I minded doing something for HER, which I did with no problem at all. After I did it she sent me a little stuffed ladybug and a thank you card for doing that. I thought that was nice, and I actually started warming up to her thinking MAYBE we were going to get along after all. Oh, but she made sure to shit all over that, and pretty quick. About a week later DH says to me (being her news bearer) “my mom says that I need to give you her phone number.” Perplexed I said, “But I have her phone number.” He agreed, but he said “that’s my mom’s way of telling you that you need to call her to thank her for the ladybug and card.” So … I need to thank her, for thanking me for doing something for HER?? What the what??? That was the last time I ever believed we’d ever have a relationship. She was just dead set on ruining it every chance she got. Every time I thought we might actually be friends she'd ruin it with some huge crash and burn that you couldn't ignore. She’s like Lucy with the football, “come on Charlie Brown, I promise I’ll hold the ball steady for you, I won’t move it!” That’s what she does. She moves the rules of polite discourse to try and make you look like a heel.
My first Christmas with DH I tried really hard to get MIL a gift she would appreciate. I didn’t know what she was then and I didn’t know it was a losing battle, but I was beginning to figure it out. EVERYTHING I saw that looked like MIL’s personality and suggested to DH “What about that?” came with a negative response “Nope. She wouldn’t like that.” What the hell? Does she like ANYTHING? I ended up spending $50 to get her a really nice pen, in a zebra pattern (she likes animal prints) that came in a cool case she could keep in her purse. Guess what I got from her!! I got three cellophane sleeves you can pull apart to use as a temporary vase, like the free kind you get at the grocery store when you purchase flowers so you can keep them wet. WTF? No thought, no consideration, just some unequivocal junk. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was like “are you fucking kidding me? This is my Christmas present? The gifts only remotely got better from there. It is ALWAYS some crap she got from a garage sale or Good Will. Sometimes we got picture frames or another gift that we got her that she REGIFTED back to us. When they discuss narcissists and their issues with gift giving, they absolutely SPOT ON. It's rather creepy.
As for her, whatever we get her, she always asks us to bring it back and get something else. I gave up even trying about two years ago. I decided -- screw her. I put more thought into her freaking gift than her own son did. I was going to let DH and his sister worry about getting her gifts. I never again put another thought into a gift for her. Not my problem. Which may be exactly why the hag didn’t get anything for Mother’s Day this year. Oh well.
She has a habit of giving gifts to us on other people’s birthdays, including hers. See Grandma the Unfit post a few entries back. Also when our oldest daughter turned 1, MIL had gifts for us and she gave them to us in front of everyone in a huge spectacle. It was so bizarre. I can’t remember what DH got, but she bought me a Gucci purse that I thought was real, and she told me it was. I was flabbergasted. I figured it out later that it WAS NOT real and she lied about it. She got it from Hong Kong where she goes every year. She knew it wasn’t real. She also gave me on our daughter’s birthday a sterling silver ring with a ginormous amethyst on it. I mean so huge it is gaudy and I have never once worn it. I can’t imagine what everyone else was thinking, but I was embarrassed. How transparent it was to make it all about her. Normally I get a shitty assed Good Will gift, but when she gives gifts in front of a slew up people in order to make a spectacle of herself, she drops in Gucci purses and huge amethyst rings. Hello, obvious??
MIL also can’t stand it if someone else does something for someone else instead of her. One night when MIL had the girls overnight, the girls did some coloring. My youngest told her Grandma that she was going to color a picture for me. After they finished coloring it was time for bed so Youngest left the picture on the table. She told me that when she got up the next morning, Grandma had written on it in childish handwriting like it was from a child “To Grandma from Youngest” and stuck it the refrigerator for everyone to see. This was very disturbing to my daughter. I’m sure she didn’t say anything to her grandmother. They knew even then not to confront her. Nothing good ever came from that. How pathetic is it for that old bat that she has to do that? It’s just sick, sick, sick.
MIL also lives to take gifts back, stating that she never gave it to whoever to begin with. It was just a loan. Shortly before DH and I started dating Jon’s sister got a car that belonged to her grandmother. Nothing fancy, but I’m sure it helped them out. Because SIL got a car, mother-in-law was desperate to unload an old Corvette (limited) Pace Car that she had. It didn’t run well and could stand a new paint job. It was pretty nice. She had it shipped all the way from California to the Midwest and gave it to DH. He had some work done it and enjoyed it in the summers. When MIL moved here, she let DH park it in her garage because it was only driven in the summer and we didn’t have the space in our garage. She made some comment to DH that it wasn’t his car, it was hers, insisting that she never gave it to him. Never mind she sent the stupid title so he could change it and had it SHIPPED on a car carrier to be delivered over 2,000 miles. Did she really do all that so DH could just take it for a joy ride or what the hell? DH was so annoyed, but he didn’t bother arguing with her about it. She has also given us an antique hall desk that she insists every time she sees it that she might “want that back.” It isn’t happening, but she can continue to keep thinking it.
She also LOVES to give away things that don’t belong to her. DH has made excuse after excuse for her but that woman has taken, absorbed or given away items that belong to us countless times. She insists that the rolling clothes rack we had in our first house in the basement that we loaned to her for a garage sale is HERS. Not. We loaned her a really expensive blow up, queen size bed that can store itself in its own trunk. We purchased it for when we had out of town guests for the extra room in our basement. We only used it once or twice. She had one too, but slightly different looking. We loaned her ours when she had a house full of people. The next time we wanted it, that thing wasn’t anywhere to be found. She insisted she didn’t have it, but said “I sold mine in a garage sale.” She fucking sold ours too!!! Ugh. That thing was $300.00!! DH insists that when I loaned the bed to friends of mine, they never gave it back. They did. They are the most polite people I have ever known. Not returning something they borrowed (something that large) would be completely foreign to them. Their picture is in the dictionary next to the word “Goodness.” DH doesn’t want to believe it or admit his mother sells our stuff without our permission or that she doesn't even give it a thought. She’s infuriating. I hate giving her anything. Wrapping paper – now HERS. Space heater – now HERS. Casserole dishes that had food we made her – now HERS. Step ladder – now HERS.
She’s like the seagulls from finding Nemo “mine, mine, mine, mine” Auuuugh!!
Pretty early into our dating relationship, MIL asked me to do her a favor around Christmas time. She wanted me to pick something up for DH for her and wrap it, or at least that’s what I recall I did. It was so long ago I don’t remember specifics exactly, but I she asked if I minded doing something for HER, which I did with no problem at all. After I did it she sent me a little stuffed ladybug and a thank you card for doing that. I thought that was nice, and I actually started warming up to her thinking MAYBE we were going to get along after all. Oh, but she made sure to shit all over that, and pretty quick. About a week later DH says to me (being her news bearer) “my mom says that I need to give you her phone number.” Perplexed I said, “But I have her phone number.” He agreed, but he said “that’s my mom’s way of telling you that you need to call her to thank her for the ladybug and card.” So … I need to thank her, for thanking me for doing something for HER?? What the what??? That was the last time I ever believed we’d ever have a relationship. She was just dead set on ruining it every chance she got. Every time I thought we might actually be friends she'd ruin it with some huge crash and burn that you couldn't ignore. She’s like Lucy with the football, “come on Charlie Brown, I promise I’ll hold the ball steady for you, I won’t move it!” That’s what she does. She moves the rules of polite discourse to try and make you look like a heel.
My first Christmas with DH I tried really hard to get MIL a gift she would appreciate. I didn’t know what she was then and I didn’t know it was a losing battle, but I was beginning to figure it out. EVERYTHING I saw that looked like MIL’s personality and suggested to DH “What about that?” came with a negative response “Nope. She wouldn’t like that.” What the hell? Does she like ANYTHING? I ended up spending $50 to get her a really nice pen, in a zebra pattern (she likes animal prints) that came in a cool case she could keep in her purse. Guess what I got from her!! I got three cellophane sleeves you can pull apart to use as a temporary vase, like the free kind you get at the grocery store when you purchase flowers so you can keep them wet. WTF? No thought, no consideration, just some unequivocal junk. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was like “are you fucking kidding me? This is my Christmas present? The gifts only remotely got better from there. It is ALWAYS some crap she got from a garage sale or Good Will. Sometimes we got picture frames or another gift that we got her that she REGIFTED back to us. When they discuss narcissists and their issues with gift giving, they absolutely SPOT ON. It's rather creepy.
As for her, whatever we get her, she always asks us to bring it back and get something else. I gave up even trying about two years ago. I decided -- screw her. I put more thought into her freaking gift than her own son did. I was going to let DH and his sister worry about getting her gifts. I never again put another thought into a gift for her. Not my problem. Which may be exactly why the hag didn’t get anything for Mother’s Day this year. Oh well.
She has a habit of giving gifts to us on other people’s birthdays, including hers. See Grandma the Unfit post a few entries back. Also when our oldest daughter turned 1, MIL had gifts for us and she gave them to us in front of everyone in a huge spectacle. It was so bizarre. I can’t remember what DH got, but she bought me a Gucci purse that I thought was real, and she told me it was. I was flabbergasted. I figured it out later that it WAS NOT real and she lied about it. She got it from Hong Kong where she goes every year. She knew it wasn’t real. She also gave me on our daughter’s birthday a sterling silver ring with a ginormous amethyst on it. I mean so huge it is gaudy and I have never once worn it. I can’t imagine what everyone else was thinking, but I was embarrassed. How transparent it was to make it all about her. Normally I get a shitty assed Good Will gift, but when she gives gifts in front of a slew up people in order to make a spectacle of herself, she drops in Gucci purses and huge amethyst rings. Hello, obvious??
MIL also can’t stand it if someone else does something for someone else instead of her. One night when MIL had the girls overnight, the girls did some coloring. My youngest told her Grandma that she was going to color a picture for me. After they finished coloring it was time for bed so Youngest left the picture on the table. She told me that when she got up the next morning, Grandma had written on it in childish handwriting like it was from a child “To Grandma from Youngest” and stuck it the refrigerator for everyone to see. This was very disturbing to my daughter. I’m sure she didn’t say anything to her grandmother. They knew even then not to confront her. Nothing good ever came from that. How pathetic is it for that old bat that she has to do that? It’s just sick, sick, sick.
MIL also lives to take gifts back, stating that she never gave it to whoever to begin with. It was just a loan. Shortly before DH and I started dating Jon’s sister got a car that belonged to her grandmother. Nothing fancy, but I’m sure it helped them out. Because SIL got a car, mother-in-law was desperate to unload an old Corvette (limited) Pace Car that she had. It didn’t run well and could stand a new paint job. It was pretty nice. She had it shipped all the way from California to the Midwest and gave it to DH. He had some work done it and enjoyed it in the summers. When MIL moved here, she let DH park it in her garage because it was only driven in the summer and we didn’t have the space in our garage. She made some comment to DH that it wasn’t his car, it was hers, insisting that she never gave it to him. Never mind she sent the stupid title so he could change it and had it SHIPPED on a car carrier to be delivered over 2,000 miles. Did she really do all that so DH could just take it for a joy ride or what the hell? DH was so annoyed, but he didn’t bother arguing with her about it. She has also given us an antique hall desk that she insists every time she sees it that she might “want that back.” It isn’t happening, but she can continue to keep thinking it.
She also LOVES to give away things that don’t belong to her. DH has made excuse after excuse for her but that woman has taken, absorbed or given away items that belong to us countless times. She insists that the rolling clothes rack we had in our first house in the basement that we loaned to her for a garage sale is HERS. Not. We loaned her a really expensive blow up, queen size bed that can store itself in its own trunk. We purchased it for when we had out of town guests for the extra room in our basement. We only used it once or twice. She had one too, but slightly different looking. We loaned her ours when she had a house full of people. The next time we wanted it, that thing wasn’t anywhere to be found. She insisted she didn’t have it, but said “I sold mine in a garage sale.” She fucking sold ours too!!! Ugh. That thing was $300.00!! DH insists that when I loaned the bed to friends of mine, they never gave it back. They did. They are the most polite people I have ever known. Not returning something they borrowed (something that large) would be completely foreign to them. Their picture is in the dictionary next to the word “Goodness.” DH doesn’t want to believe it or admit his mother sells our stuff without our permission or that she doesn't even give it a thought. She’s infuriating. I hate giving her anything. Wrapping paper – now HERS. Space heater – now HERS. Casserole dishes that had food we made her – now HERS. Step ladder – now HERS.
She’s like the seagulls from finding Nemo “mine, mine, mine, mine” Auuuugh!!
Thursday, May 7, 2015
That Path Is Now Closed
When I ended the last entry it was ended with the understanding that if WWW wanted to see the girls, then the visit would have to be supervised. Since any time I am in the same orbit as WWW I want to kill her, having me as the supervisory individual isn’t a good idea. It ends up being DH, which I thought was fine.
Since the “family meeting” in February WWW has only had two occasions to see the girls. The first time in March when she had St. Patrick’s Day gifts for them and in April when she has Easter gifts for them. Gifts are big thing with her. She can’t come up with anything other than the thought of a gift as a reason to see her granddaughters, which isn’t really surprising. The visits, as I recall, were only no more than 10 minutes and then the girls scooted out of her house and went and did their thing while DH stayed behind and chatted with his mom about god only knows what. Both of those times, prior to him going over there and many times outside of that I told DH over and over “don’t leave the girls alone with your mom.” “They can’t be at your moms’ without one of us.” Blah Blah. I thought that was I clear. I thought he knew not only why I was saying that, but what it meant. I was so very wrong.
Very frequently the girls like to talk to me about their grandma and especially when they recall something she said or did that they didn’t like. I think talking about her behaviors and some of the things she did to them helps them understand whether or not it was wrong or they are wrong for feeling weird about it. Sometimes, of course, they talk about things that aren’t really that big of a deal. I do realize they are young and don’t often get what’s over the line and what’s not. Two weeks ago I was cleaning the kitchen and they were both talking about Grandma and something she said. I was half listening when something Oldest said made me stop dead in my tracks. “What?” I said. She repeated it. In fact, I was still so shocked I was convinced that I was hearing wrong, and/or that what Grandma said to them was something she said a long time ago, not recent history. But my heart sank because the timeline and her words indicated it happened during one of only two times she has recently had access to them. I was sick in my stomach, because what happened meant that DH took no heed to the only rule I had if the girls were to be near their grandmother. NEVER.EVER.LEAVE.THEM.ALONE.WITH.HER.
Recall that three months ago during the family meeting, the girls brought up things that WWW was doing that was hurting their relationship. Remember also that WWW blew it all off and basically said none of that was true. Without calling them liars, she said they were lying. DH and I knew damn well all of it was true, but that’s what she did.
Apparently during the Easter visit just after DH and the girls arrived at WWW’s house, WWW asked DH to go fix her computer, which is located in her office. DH, clearly not understanding the degree to which I meant DO NOT LEAVE THEM ALONE WITH HER, sauntered off to do her bidding. This left the girls alone in the living room with her. This is the first opportunity since January that she has alone with the girls. You know, the granddaughters she claims to love and want a relationship with. She took that opportunity to hiss at the girls “WHY DID YOU TELL YOUR MOTHER ALL THOSE LIES ABOUT ME!! If you would quit telling lies, we’d have a better relationship.” I don’t know what all else she said, but that was the gist of the conversation. It didn’t matter to her that she knew the girls were afraid of her, it didn’t matter to her that we were keeping the girls away from her because of her nasty behavior. She lit into them anyway blaming them for LYING which they did not do. She, of course, shut up when DH walked back out of her office, but she’d done what she set out to do. Relieved herself of her guilt and shit all over their relationship yet again.
I was so ill. This is what I was afraid of. This is exactly why I told DH he is never to leave them alone. When I said that, I meant it literally and completely. Their own father is so clueless to the treachery of his mother that he trusted her with their emotional safety enough to walk out of the room. Even when I warned him over and over not too. That’s when I realized he was far worse than I thought.
We talked about it later and he was very upset with himself. He did not, absolutely not did understand why he shouldn’t leave them alone. He didn’t get it. He just thought the girls were safe if he were in the same house as her. NOT. I told him that we cannot walk FIVE FEET away from our girls if his mother is within breathing space. NOT EVER. I can only hope he gets it now, but I admit to being unsure. I didn't think my only rule was that hard to understand, he couldn't even grasp that?! It's hard for a normal person to fathom. :(
It doesn’t matter though. She isn’t even allowed supervised visits now. Nobody on the planet wants anything to do with her. She’s ruined her relationship with the girls, and since she isn’t going to change, there’s no reason to believe the relationship has a chance in hell of improving so we aren’t even going to waste the girls’ time. If they don’t want to see her, even DH isn’t going to make them.
WWW doesn’t know this yet, but eventually she’ll figure it out. She’s slowly getting consequences for her actions. Not that she’ll learn anything. She never does. Stupid bitch.
Since the “family meeting” in February WWW has only had two occasions to see the girls. The first time in March when she had St. Patrick’s Day gifts for them and in April when she has Easter gifts for them. Gifts are big thing with her. She can’t come up with anything other than the thought of a gift as a reason to see her granddaughters, which isn’t really surprising. The visits, as I recall, were only no more than 10 minutes and then the girls scooted out of her house and went and did their thing while DH stayed behind and chatted with his mom about god only knows what. Both of those times, prior to him going over there and many times outside of that I told DH over and over “don’t leave the girls alone with your mom.” “They can’t be at your moms’ without one of us.” Blah Blah. I thought that was I clear. I thought he knew not only why I was saying that, but what it meant. I was so very wrong.
Very frequently the girls like to talk to me about their grandma and especially when they recall something she said or did that they didn’t like. I think talking about her behaviors and some of the things she did to them helps them understand whether or not it was wrong or they are wrong for feeling weird about it. Sometimes, of course, they talk about things that aren’t really that big of a deal. I do realize they are young and don’t often get what’s over the line and what’s not. Two weeks ago I was cleaning the kitchen and they were both talking about Grandma and something she said. I was half listening when something Oldest said made me stop dead in my tracks. “What?” I said. She repeated it. In fact, I was still so shocked I was convinced that I was hearing wrong, and/or that what Grandma said to them was something she said a long time ago, not recent history. But my heart sank because the timeline and her words indicated it happened during one of only two times she has recently had access to them. I was sick in my stomach, because what happened meant that DH took no heed to the only rule I had if the girls were to be near their grandmother. NEVER.EVER.LEAVE.THEM.ALONE.WITH.HER.
Recall that three months ago during the family meeting, the girls brought up things that WWW was doing that was hurting their relationship. Remember also that WWW blew it all off and basically said none of that was true. Without calling them liars, she said they were lying. DH and I knew damn well all of it was true, but that’s what she did.
Apparently during the Easter visit just after DH and the girls arrived at WWW’s house, WWW asked DH to go fix her computer, which is located in her office. DH, clearly not understanding the degree to which I meant DO NOT LEAVE THEM ALONE WITH HER, sauntered off to do her bidding. This left the girls alone in the living room with her. This is the first opportunity since January that she has alone with the girls. You know, the granddaughters she claims to love and want a relationship with. She took that opportunity to hiss at the girls “WHY DID YOU TELL YOUR MOTHER ALL THOSE LIES ABOUT ME!! If you would quit telling lies, we’d have a better relationship.” I don’t know what all else she said, but that was the gist of the conversation. It didn’t matter to her that she knew the girls were afraid of her, it didn’t matter to her that we were keeping the girls away from her because of her nasty behavior. She lit into them anyway blaming them for LYING which they did not do. She, of course, shut up when DH walked back out of her office, but she’d done what she set out to do. Relieved herself of her guilt and shit all over their relationship yet again.
I was so ill. This is what I was afraid of. This is exactly why I told DH he is never to leave them alone. When I said that, I meant it literally and completely. Their own father is so clueless to the treachery of his mother that he trusted her with their emotional safety enough to walk out of the room. Even when I warned him over and over not too. That’s when I realized he was far worse than I thought.
We talked about it later and he was very upset with himself. He did not, absolutely not did understand why he shouldn’t leave them alone. He didn’t get it. He just thought the girls were safe if he were in the same house as her. NOT. I told him that we cannot walk FIVE FEET away from our girls if his mother is within breathing space. NOT EVER. I can only hope he gets it now, but I admit to being unsure. I didn't think my only rule was that hard to understand, he couldn't even grasp that?! It's hard for a normal person to fathom. :(
It doesn’t matter though. She isn’t even allowed supervised visits now. Nobody on the planet wants anything to do with her. She’s ruined her relationship with the girls, and since she isn’t going to change, there’s no reason to believe the relationship has a chance in hell of improving so we aren’t even going to waste the girls’ time. If they don’t want to see her, even DH isn’t going to make them.
WWW doesn’t know this yet, but eventually she’ll figure it out. She’s slowly getting consequences for her actions. Not that she’ll learn anything. She never does. Stupid bitch.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Still. Again. Ditto. He’s Failing
After the blow out during MIL’s birthday dinner, things changed. Slightly. DH told the girls they did not have to go see their grandmother anymore, in fact, DH and I were on board that she wasn’t allowed to see them, never mind the girls didn’t want to at all anyway. DH started out strong, blazing with anger over her behavior over all of it. He refused to call her. Ignored her really which was fine by me. It took three weeks and then she tentatively sent him a text. I’m not sure of their exchanges, but DH kept them brief. After that she started calling him and leaving voice mail messages for him to call her back and they had short discussions then. He still was stiff with her, but they were talking more. DH did tell me that she said “I know I did something bad, but I don’t remember what.” She said this as if that was a reason to forgive her. As if she didn’t really mean all the horrible things she said and did that night. But, DH was on his game. He said, “Well, if you don’t even remember what happened, then you have a bigger problem than you think and need help.” He was expecting at a MINIMUM an apology to all of us. He indicated she needed therapy for several things as well. And she, playing the game and being all sad and meek, agreed with him. Note, however, at this point it’s been like a month, and not ONCE has she called frantic, knowing she did something bad, but not knowing what, had no real curiosity what “IT” was that she did. I find that strange. If she were a normal person, she would have been mortified, come over, and apologized to everyone immediately. That didn’t happen.
MIL wanted to come over to see the girls. I told DH if she came over it would be for more than just to see the girls. It would be a full on family sit down discussion of her fucked up behavior and what isn’t tolerated. Twice we set a time, a twice she blew us off. It made me so angry. It upset the family. We were thinking she was coming over and we’d all be on pins and needles, then at the last second she’d cancel for stupid shit, like … the weather is too bad. What?? To walk across the cul de sac?
As the six week mark approached I noticed that she was calling as she did before. Just to chat and say hello, and he’d talk to her as always as if nothing in the world had happened. She hadn’t apologized, hadn’t gotten therapy, she had done nothing to deserve his forgiveness, yet there he was treating her just like nothing happened. It hit me then like ton of bricks. He is NEVER, NOT EVER going to hold her accountable for anything she does. Not even when it’s the worse offense she could have done, even in front of our children, even screaming at me that I was a fucking bitch.
I decided I needed to write him a letter and get out what I felt, because at that moment, I felt a lot. In the weeks previous I had been reading my old blog, and was reminded of all of the horrible things I had to endure with that woman. All of the horrible things she did and said and how he never did ANYTHING to fix it. Even if I was sobbing and upset. It was easier for him to let her get away with it and deal with my sadness then hold her accountable or put up any boundaries. When I saw that he was doing it yet again was appalled. But this time was different, because it wasn’t just me, it was our children that were being abused. FULL STOP. This wasn’t going to continue.
This is what I wrote him.
After reading the letter, DH and I communicated and he told his mother she needed to get help before she could have anything to do with the girls. At least, that’s what he told me he told her. I don’ t know. We went another six or seven weeks when one day DH indicated that his mom wanted to see the girls and was allegedly very concerned about how the girls were feeling about her because of her bad behavior at the dinner. He said that she indicated she was seeing a counselor and that he hadn’t seen her drunk or alcohol in her refrigerator in a while. I was skeptical. Again, I indicated that if she planned on coming over it would be to have a real discussion and for her to apologize.
We set a date and time for this to happen. And happen it did.
We were all sitting in the living room when she entered the house. I would have thought (although frankly I should have known better) that she would have come over with a little bit of contrition or humility over the horrible behavior that night. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Why, even though I know better, and I always surprised when she disappoints? Because she does disappoint. Always.
She came into the house wearing the same smug “I’m-better-than-everyone” attitude that she always does. Our daughters had several concerns that they wanted to share with her and had actually taken the time to write a list on their own of the things that Grandma was doing that was hurting their relationship. They wrote this list so that they could discuss them with her and that they would not forget anything in their nervousness. Again, I was assuming that MIL would have a human/rational reaction to this list and possibly even cry when our girls broached them. Oh no. No. No. No.
While our girls gathered their courage to tell her their feelings, she completely minimized everything that she could not deny outright (the drinking and smoking) and then denied everything else they mentioned. Anything that my daughters told her that she did or said to them that hurt them, she basically called them liars (without using those words) because she said those things never happened. I’ve read so much information that says that Narcissists are consummate liars, but I am still shocked to see it in my own family in front of my very own eyes. MIL lied, lied, lied, and lied on top of lied. She sat there and denied my children their reality by saying that everything they witnessed wasn’t true. My daughters looked at me perplexed because she was lying and they had no idea how to handle an ADULT lying to them. There can be no healing or improvement when someone won't acknowledge their problems.
Previously, I had told DH and she was not allowed any continued relationship with the girls until she got therapy. The first thing MIL did before we talked about anything else after we all sat down is start throwing out stipulations like she had some control She said to me “I know that you had want me to get therapy, but I am not the sole cause of the downfall of this relationship and I am going to require you to get counseling as well.” WOW! That she actually had the impudence to assume the right to stipulate what I do is really telling. She’s pretty full of herself. She doesn’t have anything I want. I could care less if she dropped dead tomorrow. There is not one single thing she can do to me to make me do anything she wanted me to do. What is she going to do? Get mad at me? Stop talking to me? Move? Cut me out of her will? There is nothing MIL can do to hold any leverage over me whatsoever. I actually bubbled up laughing when she said that and I responded with “Oh, MIL, I am so not getting counseling because you think I’m the problem. This is all yours.” She truly believes that I am half the reason we have issues and wants me to take the blame as well. Not happening sister.
After more discussions that went very badly, I realized MIL didn’t have any intention of apologizing, taking responsibility for her actions or behaving in any way that she felt sorry for what she did to our daughters or me or DH. She never apologized. Not once. She never showed any true remorse or desire to change or fix things so that she could have a relationship with us.
I began to slowly lose my cool and we began to argue. Jon left the room with the girls and his mother showed every sign of wanting to go toe to toe with me. After a few minutes of heated discussion, I knew how pointless it was. There is no point in trying to reason with someone that will never take responsibility for themselves or even remotely tell the truth. I knew this, but my husband had to witness it too. Yeah, I’d say he witnessed it. I actually got up and asked her to leave my house.
There was one time when I said something that got me a strange look. All the hostility came off her face and she appeared to lose all the blood in her face. While she was getting her coat on after I asked her to leave, she was still blabbering on about me calling her liar. MIL said to me “You only wish I was a liar.” I laughed again at the absurdity of her statement and said with bored resignation: “MIL, I truly don’t wish you were a liar at all. In fact I wish you would just act like a normal human being.”
THAT was the statement that caused the strange look on her face. I have no idea what it was but all pretense was wiped off her face for a second. Very strange. And then she stormed out.
DH was totally on board with everything I said and was completely shell shocked that she sat there and lied and lied and we knew she was lying. It was like DH has taken the red pill and now he saw the truth. I hope she packs back up and moves back to the West Coast like she is threatening to do.
She still had antics for us though. Oldest told me about an incident she had the next day when she got home from school. MIL basically gave my oldest daughter a big “fuck you.” This was one day after our meeting-gone-bad. My daughter was walking the neighbor dog after she got home from school. As she walked by MIL’s house she heard MIL’s front door open. When my daughter looked up at the front door, my MIL glared at her for a second and then slammed the door. MIL saw her walking by and took the opportunity to send her a message in a shitty, passive aggressive way.
Message received.
But apparently not for DH. Still. Again. Ditto. He’s failing.
More on that in the next entry.
MIL wanted to come over to see the girls. I told DH if she came over it would be for more than just to see the girls. It would be a full on family sit down discussion of her fucked up behavior and what isn’t tolerated. Twice we set a time, a twice she blew us off. It made me so angry. It upset the family. We were thinking she was coming over and we’d all be on pins and needles, then at the last second she’d cancel for stupid shit, like … the weather is too bad. What?? To walk across the cul de sac?
As the six week mark approached I noticed that she was calling as she did before. Just to chat and say hello, and he’d talk to her as always as if nothing in the world had happened. She hadn’t apologized, hadn’t gotten therapy, she had done nothing to deserve his forgiveness, yet there he was treating her just like nothing happened. It hit me then like ton of bricks. He is NEVER, NOT EVER going to hold her accountable for anything she does. Not even when it’s the worse offense she could have done, even in front of our children, even screaming at me that I was a fucking bitch.
I decided I needed to write him a letter and get out what I felt, because at that moment, I felt a lot. In the weeks previous I had been reading my old blog, and was reminded of all of the horrible things I had to endure with that woman. All of the horrible things she did and said and how he never did ANYTHING to fix it. Even if I was sobbing and upset. It was easier for him to let her get away with it and deal with my sadness then hold her accountable or put up any boundaries. When I saw that he was doing it yet again was appalled. But this time was different, because it wasn’t just me, it was our children that were being abused. FULL STOP. This wasn’t going to continue.
This is what I wrote him.
DH:
We can discuss later, but you needed to hear this. Maybe I'll sleep tonight.
I’ve been looking through my online journal after cleaning it up. I was curious to go through it to see some of things your mother said or did in years past since I was sure I had forgotten things. It really gave me some clarity, although I didn’t like it.
Looking back over the years since Oldest was born (and even long before) it is obvious that your mother made me miserable, out loud -- often, ramming herself over boundaries like a freight train. She has been quite fond of attacking my character behind my back with some bald face lie she dreamed up that was aimed to make me look bad. In turn, you’d turn around and ask me if I did [*insert ridiculous accusation*] to offend her. You gave her bullshit story enough credence to question me again and again, which caused me to have to defend myself over and over. I never did any of those things she dreamed up. It was so unfair of both of you. One thing was pretty clear though after a lot of reading. You gave your mother reign to malign me and dream up any fantasy story she could whenever it suited her or when she wanted to emotionally bitch about me to make herself feel better. You allowed her to beat me up emotionally, whether passively or aggressively (in my face and not), and didn't hold her accountable. What type of respect can I believe that either of you had for me between the two of you? She disrespected me by every foul word out of her mouth and every boundary she crossed. She was mean and unfair to me from the very first. You disrespected me by letting her do it again and again regardless of what I said or how upset I was. This hindsight sucks. Now she’s tried to do it with our daughters, talking horribly about me and wanting them to think bad of me. Sorry, but that is seriously EVIL. Yet for some reason, you still think having your mom in the girls’ lives is a good idea?
I had hoped that after her fantastic blow out at the beginning of January it would mean something. That things might change. Instead, she is manipulating you all over again. After realizing this last night, I knew things are never going to change. You were mad at her and I thought ready to face things. That lasted all of two weeks. Once she started with the text messages, it was easy for her to progress to brief phone calls, and now you are back to half hour phone conversations with her as if nothing happened.
For some reason I actually contemplated being gracious enough to let her salvage some sort of relationship with the girls by letting her into my house so she can have her “say.” I plead temporary insanity. Without even stepping foot in it, she’s already stirring up discomfort in our house. She has twice now manipulated our family time by not showing up to the family meeting SHE SAID SHE WANTED. She’s done this with lame, selfish excuses that weren’t excuses at all. It’s making the poor girls’ nerves sit on edge, not to mention mine. This is exactly how she manipulates you. She wants something, you bend, she maneuvers, you chase, and now the whole thing about holding HER accountable is somehow now all about her, on her terms, and on her time frame. She’s in control again! She’s not sorry, DH. She’s not sorry at all.
I just want to understand one thing. For all of your new found determination with her since early January what changed so that she now has your pity, attention and kindness? Did she improve something I am unaware of? Did she get counseling or therapy? Did she stop drinking? Did she even apologize? Did she admit she had a problem? Did she do ANYTHING AT ALL to deserve acceptance or forgiveness from you? From where I sit, it really just feels like you feeding your mom’s pity is more important to you than how anyone else in our family feels.
I did a lot of thinking last night between 2:30 and 6:00 a.m. I realize now that you will continue to let her manipulate all of us. If you wouldn’t stop her from emotionally beating me up for a decade, then why should I believe you are capable of keeping her from doing the same to the girls? I guess it’s up to me to protect them from her. A month in, and she’s already gotten a foothold on you and she’s done nothing to earn it. You will let her emotionally torture us all because you will not hold her accountable whether it’s a week from now, a month from now or a year from now.
You have big problem you refuse to see. You enable her. You have been conditioned since a child to react how you do. You have no gauge. You cannot see the damage she has done and is still doing. Since I cannot rely on you to protect the girls, I have to. I have decided since she can’t be controlled then there can be no contact with her and the girls whatsoever. She is a 71 year old self-gratifying, mentally ill, alcoholic with the emotional intelligence of a four year old. There’s no hope for her, but there is for us and she isn’t taking me and the girls down with her. There will be no discussions at our house with your mother. She is not capable of apologizing and meaning it, she isn’t capable of hearing constructive criticism or having an adult conversation without flipping out and causing a scene. A scene that would surely happen and that I will absolutely not subject the girls to. She isn’t capable of not drinking and not putting our kid’s lives on the line. She has had enough of my family and my sanity. I have been more than fair to her despite seeing me as the fucking bitch she thinks I am. I will not put our children into the path of that emotional wreck anymore until she gets some help and there is some real progression. Until then, I see no reason to subject our girls to her or that drama.
You do whatever you want with yourself and her. She doesn’t seem to disrespect you or treat you badly, just the rest of us. You aren’t the one suffering and certainly my anguish over the years hasn’t bothered you enough to want to make a difference. All I ask is that you respect my choice to protect our children and my sanity and self-respect, because you can’t or won’t.
After reading the letter, DH and I communicated and he told his mother she needed to get help before she could have anything to do with the girls. At least, that’s what he told me he told her. I don’ t know. We went another six or seven weeks when one day DH indicated that his mom wanted to see the girls and was allegedly very concerned about how the girls were feeling about her because of her bad behavior at the dinner. He said that she indicated she was seeing a counselor and that he hadn’t seen her drunk or alcohol in her refrigerator in a while. I was skeptical. Again, I indicated that if she planned on coming over it would be to have a real discussion and for her to apologize.
We set a date and time for this to happen. And happen it did.
We were all sitting in the living room when she entered the house. I would have thought (although frankly I should have known better) that she would have come over with a little bit of contrition or humility over the horrible behavior that night. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Why, even though I know better, and I always surprised when she disappoints? Because she does disappoint. Always.
She came into the house wearing the same smug “I’m-better-than-everyone” attitude that she always does. Our daughters had several concerns that they wanted to share with her and had actually taken the time to write a list on their own of the things that Grandma was doing that was hurting their relationship. They wrote this list so that they could discuss them with her and that they would not forget anything in their nervousness. Again, I was assuming that MIL would have a human/rational reaction to this list and possibly even cry when our girls broached them. Oh no. No. No. No.
While our girls gathered their courage to tell her their feelings, she completely minimized everything that she could not deny outright (the drinking and smoking) and then denied everything else they mentioned. Anything that my daughters told her that she did or said to them that hurt them, she basically called them liars (without using those words) because she said those things never happened. I’ve read so much information that says that Narcissists are consummate liars, but I am still shocked to see it in my own family in front of my very own eyes. MIL lied, lied, lied, and lied on top of lied. She sat there and denied my children their reality by saying that everything they witnessed wasn’t true. My daughters looked at me perplexed because she was lying and they had no idea how to handle an ADULT lying to them. There can be no healing or improvement when someone won't acknowledge their problems.
Previously, I had told DH and she was not allowed any continued relationship with the girls until she got therapy. The first thing MIL did before we talked about anything else after we all sat down is start throwing out stipulations like she had some control She said to me “I know that you had want me to get therapy, but I am not the sole cause of the downfall of this relationship and I am going to require you to get counseling as well.” WOW! That she actually had the impudence to assume the right to stipulate what I do is really telling. She’s pretty full of herself. She doesn’t have anything I want. I could care less if she dropped dead tomorrow. There is not one single thing she can do to me to make me do anything she wanted me to do. What is she going to do? Get mad at me? Stop talking to me? Move? Cut me out of her will? There is nothing MIL can do to hold any leverage over me whatsoever. I actually bubbled up laughing when she said that and I responded with “Oh, MIL, I am so not getting counseling because you think I’m the problem. This is all yours.” She truly believes that I am half the reason we have issues and wants me to take the blame as well. Not happening sister.
After more discussions that went very badly, I realized MIL didn’t have any intention of apologizing, taking responsibility for her actions or behaving in any way that she felt sorry for what she did to our daughters or me or DH. She never apologized. Not once. She never showed any true remorse or desire to change or fix things so that she could have a relationship with us.
I began to slowly lose my cool and we began to argue. Jon left the room with the girls and his mother showed every sign of wanting to go toe to toe with me. After a few minutes of heated discussion, I knew how pointless it was. There is no point in trying to reason with someone that will never take responsibility for themselves or even remotely tell the truth. I knew this, but my husband had to witness it too. Yeah, I’d say he witnessed it. I actually got up and asked her to leave my house.
There was one time when I said something that got me a strange look. All the hostility came off her face and she appeared to lose all the blood in her face. While she was getting her coat on after I asked her to leave, she was still blabbering on about me calling her liar. MIL said to me “You only wish I was a liar.” I laughed again at the absurdity of her statement and said with bored resignation: “MIL, I truly don’t wish you were a liar at all. In fact I wish you would just act like a normal human being.”
THAT was the statement that caused the strange look on her face. I have no idea what it was but all pretense was wiped off her face for a second. Very strange. And then she stormed out.
DH was totally on board with everything I said and was completely shell shocked that she sat there and lied and lied and we knew she was lying. It was like DH has taken the red pill and now he saw the truth. I hope she packs back up and moves back to the West Coast like she is threatening to do.
She still had antics for us though. Oldest told me about an incident she had the next day when she got home from school. MIL basically gave my oldest daughter a big “fuck you.” This was one day after our meeting-gone-bad. My daughter was walking the neighbor dog after she got home from school. As she walked by MIL’s house she heard MIL’s front door open. When my daughter looked up at the front door, my MIL glared at her for a second and then slammed the door. MIL saw her walking by and took the opportunity to send her a message in a shitty, passive aggressive way.
Message received.
But apparently not for DH. Still. Again. Ditto. He’s failing.
More on that in the next entry.
Friday, April 17, 2015
They Don't Like Her -- At All
I am seriously frustrated. Although DH seems to understand and I KNOW he knows that his mother is extremely difficult, that she cannot keep relationships, etc. he continues to insist that the girls have a relationship with his mother. They don’t want to. They don’t like her. They want nothing to do with her. For whatever reason, this is not a good response because DH thinks they have to have a relationship with her. I don’t think that. It feels wrong. Nobody wants to have a relationship with her. NOBODY. I do not exaggerate. She has no friends and no relatives that give a rip about her. Only her two children maintain this. The last friend she had, Janet, (from the previous post) disappeared after MIL’s awful tirade at her birthday dinner. Now that friend is gone too.
I fail to understand why DH would make our children have a relationship with someone that is so miserable to be around. I fail to understand why he would WANT to make his children be around someone who they don’t feel safe with. I personally don’t care if MIL is their grandmother, she's unpleasant and rude. Being a grandma is privilege and she has ruined her privilege. She doesn’t deserve to be their grandmother. The only reason I can see why DH insists on this is because DH is getting pressure from MIL to see them. MIL hates this. She hates this because she’s being told she can’t have something she wants. She doesn’t like being controlled.
When the girls were very young, babies/toddlers, I never saw any behavior from MIL that set off alarm bells. She seemed to care about them and was careful with them. We didn’t leave them with her a lot, and when we did, she usually came to our house. As the girls got older, they began staying at her house across the street while we were gone. Eventually those led to sleep overs and Grandma’s that seemed to go fine. She made pancakes for them in the morning and appeared to be engaging with them. I got no weird vibe that something was wrong.
Once the girls turned 6 and 8, however, I noticed a shift.
The girls began to whine about not wanting to go to Grandma’s house. My youngest would have a fit and not want to stay the night if MIL was watching them when DH and I had a night out. We’d have to talk to her on the phone, calm her down and eventually it worked out ok. I just took it as a new stage with her. I didn’t actually think something was not going well at Grandma’s. At least not then. But, things got worse and worse. And complaints about bad behavior began. Sometimes they’d tell us something that seemed not good. When we confronted MIL about it, she’d say it didn’t happen or that the girls misunderstood her or some such thing. Given their age, we believed her. But, the girls are now 9 and 11 years old and are definitely old enough to understand when something isn’t right and old enough to tell me what happens when they are alone with her.
The truth about what was going on at Grandma’s house started coming out in little dribs and drabs. They told me of situations where if they spent the night, she wouldn’t get her butt out of bed until 11:00 in the morning to make them breakfast or engage with them. She’d make them clean and do things instead of spending time with them, or she’d go shopping with them and then get mad at a sales clerk or waitress and be really mean to them or have an enormous fit in public and the girls would get really embarrassed. A few times MIL would see a heavy person and snicker and tell the girls “look how fat she is, she can barely walk!” Or MIL would pick on some handicapped person in front of the girls. My daughters are good hearted people and to watch their Grandmother do that, upset them. Sometimes MIL would promise to take them to dinner, and then would take them to a fancy inappropriate restaurant they didn’t want to go to just so MIL could have the type of meal SHE wanted. She’d drag them to art and museum functions under the guise of giving them some culture. It bored them to tears. What I realized later as what was really happening is that she went to those fancy adult restaurants so she could have wine at dinner or have the sample wine and food during the functions at the museum and dragged my kids along so she wouldn’t be alone. She didn’t give a hoot about their happiness or whether they had a good time with her. It was never about them!!
So many occasions MIL made terrible choices. Sometimes she would plan to have the girls come over to spend time with them and then invite her “friend of the moment” over when the girls were there. Instead of engaging with them, she’d ignore them and drink and smoke with her friend while the girls were bored to death. This happened a lot.
One time she promise the girls she’d take them to the movies. What really happened was she and her “friend of the moment” decided to go see “The Butler” (rated PG13) and dragged them along. They were 7 and 9 years old I was furious. It was NOT age appropriate. Sometimes I don’t know what the hell she was thinking. There was never any consideration about entertaining her granddaughters. It was about HER and what she wanted and what she wanted to do. It always has been.
I figured out the fancy restaurants ruse because of something she did. Again, MIL loved to have the girls get dressed up and take them out to some place fancy to eat. The girls didn’t want some place fancy to eat!! MIL did though and what mother-in-law wanted, mother-in-law got. She wanted company so she dragged along my children. One night she invited the mentally handicapped older daughter of a family friend and my two daughters out to fancy restaurant. When she brought the friend’s daughter home later that night, MIL put her car into the ditch in front of our friend’s house. MIL explained to us that she overshot the driveway and slid into the ditch because of the ice. We believed her. Later, we found out that wasn’t true. The friend of the family called and was furious because MIL was drunk and watched her stumble around the driveway and try and lie her way out of it. The friend’s husband pulled her car out of the ditch and the two of them brought everyone home, the husband driving MIL’s car. DH’s mother drove drunk with an 8 year old, a 10 year old and a 17 year old girl with Downs Syndrome in her car. SHE WAS WATCHING OTHER PEOPLE’S CHILDREN and didn’t give a shit that she was drunk. Once that happened, we never let our daughters go over to spend the night if she was driving them anywhere. She was not allowed. It was okay during the day. For whatever reason we didn’t think that was a problem. I think we were proven wrong. I wouldn’t have let her have them EVER AGAIN, but again. DH seems to think Grandma loves her granddaughters. I say the fuck she does!
It seemed like once my girls got to an age where they had an opinion and wanted to use it, things with MIL started going downhill. The girls didn’t want to go over there anymore. It wasn’t fun. And I think not only was it not fun, it was sometimes frightening. I don’t blame them. I have no idea what else was going on, but I can only guess. My girls are frightened of her anger. I’m pretty sure that she has raged at them when they questioned her or didn’t do exactly what she wanted.
MIL can get so vindictive and petty and part of her personality came out one night about a year ago when we went over to MIL’s house for dinner. MIL asked the girls to set the table and my Youngest announced “I want to sit next to momma.” Well, that didn’t sit well with MIL. The petty vicious bitch was jealous because my daughter wanted to sit next to ME! She told my Youngest, that she wasn’t allowed to sit next to me, she had to sit next to her. Youngest got very upset and told her Grandma that she wanted to sit next to me. Grandma told the grand daughter she claims to love so much that she was not going to and that because it was HER house, MIL got to set the rules as to where people sat. Youngest was NOT going to be allowed to sit by me. She made my daughter very upset. I tried to get DH to say something, but he wouldn’t. I was furious. I should have said something, but more often than not I was afraid, because my anger would have gotten the better of me. I told DH that his mother’s behavior was awful. That she was being mean and petty and upsetting her granddaughter and that she was digging her own “Grandma grave.” And she absolutely was. The girls don’t like her, for that reason and a million others just like the one above. I think Youngest sat by me anyway, I sat down right next to her and I was DARING MIL to say something, but the horrid dishrag was too cowardly to confront me.
MIL began being really bitchy a lot when she dragged the girls out shopping. If the girls saw something they liked, usually something small, they’d ask “Grandma can I have that?" Grandma would whip around and nastily utter “Do YOU have any money?” Of course they didn’t. It’s not as if I expected her to buy it for them. I don’t cave in to whatever they want either, but I’m not nasty in my refusal. There is no reason for her to act like that to granddaughters she claims “to love.”
One afternoon when MIL had the girls she stopped at little antique shop filled with pretty do-dads and fun things to look at. One display case had these tiny little coffee mugs with cute sayings on them that one could hang on a chain. They were .79 cents. Oldest didn’t have any money on her, but Youngest did. Youngest bought one for herself with her money. Oldest wanted one too. She saw a coffee cup charm that said “I [heart] my teacher” and wanted to get it and put it on a chain to give her to teacher. When she asked her Grandma of she would buy her one, the old “so, you have any money?” litany was trucked out again. Oldest said no she didn’t, and MIL proceeded to tell her that she wouldn’t buy her one. After watching all this go down, Youngest offered Oldest HER OWN money to her sister and said that she would by one for her. When MIL found out what was going to transpire she put the brakes on that and told Youngest that she was not to buy her one. Not even for .79 goddamn cents. MIL proceeded asked Oldest why she wanted one of those for anyway. When Oldest explained she wanted to give it to her teacher Grandma says spitefully “that’s stupid, she wouldn’t want one of those.”
So many instances I have like the above and yet DH still thinks it’s okay for the girls to be around this vicious woman. She’s rude, spiteful and emotionally abusive. She’s called them a “little shit” if they actually dared to have an opinion or called her out on the bullshit they no doubt saw. I’m quite sure, just like all narcissists, MIL sees them as beneath her and innocent enough to do or say whatever the hell she wants to. A few days ago I found this quote and I lost the blood in my head. This is exactly MIL.
Here are few more stories.
Last Thanksgiving my niece flew in to town to visit and stayed with MIL. I was skeptical about how MIL was going to treat my girls once niece, who rarely visits, came to town. Niece is in her early 20’s and was going to be considered the “Golden Child” for coming to visit and help with MIL’s broken leg. MIL always treats those she is familiar with like shit when new, missed family members are around to dote on. The ones that help her, do things for her and are around when she wants them are relegated to “dirt on the bottom of her boots” status. I watch her do this to me on a number of occasions. True to form it happened. She wanted the girls to decorate a x-mas tree she had and when one of my girls dropped an ornament on MIL’s sterile, cold tile floor and it broke, MIL had a screeching fit, demanding that they clean it up, blah blah blah. Interestingly, when niece broke one MIL said “oh, not a big deal, that isn’t important.” This favoritism was noticed by my daughters and they told me about it.
At Christmas time I was quite convinced that Oldest was cluing in on her Grandmother and had already formed an opinion that she did not like her. I also think that MIL was feeling this resentment from Oldest and didn’t like it that Oldest was finally getting a clue about who MIL really is. MIL is beginning to understand that she is losing the control she once had with Oldest. Narcissists don’t like it when you have their number. They want to be superior, they don’t want you to know their failings.
On Christmas Eve this past year we had a full house of people including my family members. Early in the evening MIL sat across the living room from Oldest staring at her. Just staring at her like … I don’t know … like a zombie. My daughter motions me over to her and then whispered to me: “momma, grandma is staring at me and it’s scaring me. Make her stop.” I told Oldest to ignore her. I walked away, and then turned around so I could watch what she was doing with my own eyes. Without a doubt, she was drilling malevolent intent into my kid. It definitely was scary. A few weeks later while reading about narcissism I discovered something called the “Narcissistic Stare.” Here are a few quotes from readings about narcissists:
Within the last few months before the big blow up on MIL’s birthday, things were definitely coming to a head anyway. The girls didn’t want to have anything to do with her. They don’t like her. But when MIL broke her leg in November things really took a dive. MIL couldn’t walk and couldn’t drive and she wanted everyone to pity her. She could not seem to hide her nastiness anymore. She began to get more demanding and horrible even with DH and he was reaching his limit of patience with her. It was at this time that we were, or at least I was, not encouraging the girls to spend time with her. Not that I needed to encourage them not too, but I certainly did not want them to be around her. After she broke her knee, we did have the girls help her with a few things every day that MIL could not do. The girls would go over to her house to scoop her cats litter box or do a few things to help. Of course, when they were done, they wanted to leave and come home. She’d tell them to stay that she wanted their company. They didn’t want to. As soon as they’d start to leave, MIL would burst into tears and tell them they were being mean to her. (Her words) She’d say “I’m nice to you, but you aren’t nice to me!” She’d sound like a five year old. She’d complain out loud “you don’t want me anymore! I’m just going to move away and everyone will be sorry.” It made the girls very uncomfortable and pissed me off because MIL’s emotional well-being is not the responsibility of my children. Screw her for trying to guilt them.
Again, my daughters do not like their grandmother. It has absolutely nothing to do with me. Grandma made her bed and she should have to suffer the consequences of her shitty behavior. But DH insists that the girls have a relationship with her because he says, “my mom loves the girls.” She does not. I don’t know what she feels, but she doesn’t feel love. She wants to control them, she wants them to do what SHE wants them to do and if they don’t tow that line, she treats them like crap. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t endanger their lives by driving drunk. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren let them have opinions and feelings. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t argue with them because Grandma is jealous. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t humiliate them or others around them. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren get their asses out of bed to make them breakfast, not lounge (probably hung over) until almost lunch. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren do things that the grandchildren want to do, NOT what Grandma wants to do. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren respect their grandchildren’s parents and don’t talk badly about them. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren respect their grandchildren’s needs, not walk all over them.
How DH can say his mother loves the girls is beyond comprehension. So many stories, I can’t even get them all paper. I’m sad because this is what DH believes love looks like. This is what DH thinks is acceptable. This is the behavior that DH thinks is worth ignoring so that his mother can preserve her fantasy that she HAS some sort of relationship with her granddaughters. She doesn’t. It’s gone. She blew it. She lost them and by no fault of anyone else but her own. Since she is unlikely to change, the girls aren’t going to suddenly change their minds and want to like her. Forcing them to be with Grandma because Grandma believes she has a right to them is bullshit. I don’t want to do it. And I don’t know what to do.
DH has agreed to supervised visits with his mother when she returns from a trip in two weeks. Supervised is fine, but what fucking torture! He doesn’t want to be there and neither to do they. Why is he doing this?
I fail to understand why DH would make our children have a relationship with someone that is so miserable to be around. I fail to understand why he would WANT to make his children be around someone who they don’t feel safe with. I personally don’t care if MIL is their grandmother, she's unpleasant and rude. Being a grandma is privilege and she has ruined her privilege. She doesn’t deserve to be their grandmother. The only reason I can see why DH insists on this is because DH is getting pressure from MIL to see them. MIL hates this. She hates this because she’s being told she can’t have something she wants. She doesn’t like being controlled.
When the girls were very young, babies/toddlers, I never saw any behavior from MIL that set off alarm bells. She seemed to care about them and was careful with them. We didn’t leave them with her a lot, and when we did, she usually came to our house. As the girls got older, they began staying at her house across the street while we were gone. Eventually those led to sleep overs and Grandma’s that seemed to go fine. She made pancakes for them in the morning and appeared to be engaging with them. I got no weird vibe that something was wrong.
Once the girls turned 6 and 8, however, I noticed a shift.
The girls began to whine about not wanting to go to Grandma’s house. My youngest would have a fit and not want to stay the night if MIL was watching them when DH and I had a night out. We’d have to talk to her on the phone, calm her down and eventually it worked out ok. I just took it as a new stage with her. I didn’t actually think something was not going well at Grandma’s. At least not then. But, things got worse and worse. And complaints about bad behavior began. Sometimes they’d tell us something that seemed not good. When we confronted MIL about it, she’d say it didn’t happen or that the girls misunderstood her or some such thing. Given their age, we believed her. But, the girls are now 9 and 11 years old and are definitely old enough to understand when something isn’t right and old enough to tell me what happens when they are alone with her.
The truth about what was going on at Grandma’s house started coming out in little dribs and drabs. They told me of situations where if they spent the night, she wouldn’t get her butt out of bed until 11:00 in the morning to make them breakfast or engage with them. She’d make them clean and do things instead of spending time with them, or she’d go shopping with them and then get mad at a sales clerk or waitress and be really mean to them or have an enormous fit in public and the girls would get really embarrassed. A few times MIL would see a heavy person and snicker and tell the girls “look how fat she is, she can barely walk!” Or MIL would pick on some handicapped person in front of the girls. My daughters are good hearted people and to watch their Grandmother do that, upset them. Sometimes MIL would promise to take them to dinner, and then would take them to a fancy inappropriate restaurant they didn’t want to go to just so MIL could have the type of meal SHE wanted. She’d drag them to art and museum functions under the guise of giving them some culture. It bored them to tears. What I realized later as what was really happening is that she went to those fancy adult restaurants so she could have wine at dinner or have the sample wine and food during the functions at the museum and dragged my kids along so she wouldn’t be alone. She didn’t give a hoot about their happiness or whether they had a good time with her. It was never about them!!
So many occasions MIL made terrible choices. Sometimes she would plan to have the girls come over to spend time with them and then invite her “friend of the moment” over when the girls were there. Instead of engaging with them, she’d ignore them and drink and smoke with her friend while the girls were bored to death. This happened a lot.
One time she promise the girls she’d take them to the movies. What really happened was she and her “friend of the moment” decided to go see “The Butler” (rated PG13) and dragged them along. They were 7 and 9 years old I was furious. It was NOT age appropriate. Sometimes I don’t know what the hell she was thinking. There was never any consideration about entertaining her granddaughters. It was about HER and what she wanted and what she wanted to do. It always has been.
I figured out the fancy restaurants ruse because of something she did. Again, MIL loved to have the girls get dressed up and take them out to some place fancy to eat. The girls didn’t want some place fancy to eat!! MIL did though and what mother-in-law wanted, mother-in-law got. She wanted company so she dragged along my children. One night she invited the mentally handicapped older daughter of a family friend and my two daughters out to fancy restaurant. When she brought the friend’s daughter home later that night, MIL put her car into the ditch in front of our friend’s house. MIL explained to us that she overshot the driveway and slid into the ditch because of the ice. We believed her. Later, we found out that wasn’t true. The friend of the family called and was furious because MIL was drunk and watched her stumble around the driveway and try and lie her way out of it. The friend’s husband pulled her car out of the ditch and the two of them brought everyone home, the husband driving MIL’s car. DH’s mother drove drunk with an 8 year old, a 10 year old and a 17 year old girl with Downs Syndrome in her car. SHE WAS WATCHING OTHER PEOPLE’S CHILDREN and didn’t give a shit that she was drunk. Once that happened, we never let our daughters go over to spend the night if she was driving them anywhere. She was not allowed. It was okay during the day. For whatever reason we didn’t think that was a problem. I think we were proven wrong. I wouldn’t have let her have them EVER AGAIN, but again. DH seems to think Grandma loves her granddaughters. I say the fuck she does!
It seemed like once my girls got to an age where they had an opinion and wanted to use it, things with MIL started going downhill. The girls didn’t want to go over there anymore. It wasn’t fun. And I think not only was it not fun, it was sometimes frightening. I don’t blame them. I have no idea what else was going on, but I can only guess. My girls are frightened of her anger. I’m pretty sure that she has raged at them when they questioned her or didn’t do exactly what she wanted.
MIL can get so vindictive and petty and part of her personality came out one night about a year ago when we went over to MIL’s house for dinner. MIL asked the girls to set the table and my Youngest announced “I want to sit next to momma.” Well, that didn’t sit well with MIL. The petty vicious bitch was jealous because my daughter wanted to sit next to ME! She told my Youngest, that she wasn’t allowed to sit next to me, she had to sit next to her. Youngest got very upset and told her Grandma that she wanted to sit next to me. Grandma told the grand daughter she claims to love so much that she was not going to and that because it was HER house, MIL got to set the rules as to where people sat. Youngest was NOT going to be allowed to sit by me. She made my daughter very upset. I tried to get DH to say something, but he wouldn’t. I was furious. I should have said something, but more often than not I was afraid, because my anger would have gotten the better of me. I told DH that his mother’s behavior was awful. That she was being mean and petty and upsetting her granddaughter and that she was digging her own “Grandma grave.” And she absolutely was. The girls don’t like her, for that reason and a million others just like the one above. I think Youngest sat by me anyway, I sat down right next to her and I was DARING MIL to say something, but the horrid dishrag was too cowardly to confront me.
MIL began being really bitchy a lot when she dragged the girls out shopping. If the girls saw something they liked, usually something small, they’d ask “Grandma can I have that?" Grandma would whip around and nastily utter “Do YOU have any money?” Of course they didn’t. It’s not as if I expected her to buy it for them. I don’t cave in to whatever they want either, but I’m not nasty in my refusal. There is no reason for her to act like that to granddaughters she claims “to love.”
One afternoon when MIL had the girls she stopped at little antique shop filled with pretty do-dads and fun things to look at. One display case had these tiny little coffee mugs with cute sayings on them that one could hang on a chain. They were .79 cents. Oldest didn’t have any money on her, but Youngest did. Youngest bought one for herself with her money. Oldest wanted one too. She saw a coffee cup charm that said “I [heart] my teacher” and wanted to get it and put it on a chain to give her to teacher. When she asked her Grandma of she would buy her one, the old “so, you have any money?” litany was trucked out again. Oldest said no she didn’t, and MIL proceeded to tell her that she wouldn’t buy her one. After watching all this go down, Youngest offered Oldest HER OWN money to her sister and said that she would by one for her. When MIL found out what was going to transpire she put the brakes on that and told Youngest that she was not to buy her one. Not even for .79 goddamn cents. MIL proceeded asked Oldest why she wanted one of those for anyway. When Oldest explained she wanted to give it to her teacher Grandma says spitefully “that’s stupid, she wouldn’t want one of those.”
So many instances I have like the above and yet DH still thinks it’s okay for the girls to be around this vicious woman. She’s rude, spiteful and emotionally abusive. She’s called them a “little shit” if they actually dared to have an opinion or called her out on the bullshit they no doubt saw. I’m quite sure, just like all narcissists, MIL sees them as beneath her and innocent enough to do or say whatever the hell she wants to. A few days ago I found this quote and I lost the blood in my head. This is exactly MIL.
Narcissists don't like to be questioned and don't want to deal with children who can stand up for themselves. It's common for some narcissistic parents to become more abusive toward their children when the children reach the age of reason (about 7 years old) or when the children enter into puberty, which many of these parents find very psychologically threatening.To me, this supports my theory that the shit started hitting the fan when the girls were 6 and 8 years old. This is when it started falling apart and it has continued to do so since then.
Here are few more stories.
Last Thanksgiving my niece flew in to town to visit and stayed with MIL. I was skeptical about how MIL was going to treat my girls once niece, who rarely visits, came to town. Niece is in her early 20’s and was going to be considered the “Golden Child” for coming to visit and help with MIL’s broken leg. MIL always treats those she is familiar with like shit when new, missed family members are around to dote on. The ones that help her, do things for her and are around when she wants them are relegated to “dirt on the bottom of her boots” status. I watch her do this to me on a number of occasions. True to form it happened. She wanted the girls to decorate a x-mas tree she had and when one of my girls dropped an ornament on MIL’s sterile, cold tile floor and it broke, MIL had a screeching fit, demanding that they clean it up, blah blah blah. Interestingly, when niece broke one MIL said “oh, not a big deal, that isn’t important.” This favoritism was noticed by my daughters and they told me about it.
At Christmas time I was quite convinced that Oldest was cluing in on her Grandmother and had already formed an opinion that she did not like her. I also think that MIL was feeling this resentment from Oldest and didn’t like it that Oldest was finally getting a clue about who MIL really is. MIL is beginning to understand that she is losing the control she once had with Oldest. Narcissists don’t like it when you have their number. They want to be superior, they don’t want you to know their failings.
On Christmas Eve this past year we had a full house of people including my family members. Early in the evening MIL sat across the living room from Oldest staring at her. Just staring at her like … I don’t know … like a zombie. My daughter motions me over to her and then whispered to me: “momma, grandma is staring at me and it’s scaring me. Make her stop.” I told Oldest to ignore her. I walked away, and then turned around so I could watch what she was doing with my own eyes. Without a doubt, she was drilling malevolent intent into my kid. It definitely was scary. A few weeks later while reading about narcissism I discovered something called the “Narcissistic Stare.” Here are a few quotes from readings about narcissists:
Narcissists indeed have a stare. It is an intense, relentless gaze that seems to preclude the destruction of his victim or target . . . The stare intends to invade people’s space either by their sudden intrusions or intimidating look-overs.
Some people respond to the emotionless stare of the psychopath with considerable discomfort. Almost as if they feel like potential prey in the presence of the predator. Whatever the psychological meaning of the stare, it is clear that intense eye contact is an important factor in the ability of the psychopaths to manipulate and dominate others.
Within the last few months before the big blow up on MIL’s birthday, things were definitely coming to a head anyway. The girls didn’t want to have anything to do with her. They don’t like her. But when MIL broke her leg in November things really took a dive. MIL couldn’t walk and couldn’t drive and she wanted everyone to pity her. She could not seem to hide her nastiness anymore. She began to get more demanding and horrible even with DH and he was reaching his limit of patience with her. It was at this time that we were, or at least I was, not encouraging the girls to spend time with her. Not that I needed to encourage them not too, but I certainly did not want them to be around her. After she broke her knee, we did have the girls help her with a few things every day that MIL could not do. The girls would go over to her house to scoop her cats litter box or do a few things to help. Of course, when they were done, they wanted to leave and come home. She’d tell them to stay that she wanted their company. They didn’t want to. As soon as they’d start to leave, MIL would burst into tears and tell them they were being mean to her. (Her words) She’d say “I’m nice to you, but you aren’t nice to me!” She’d sound like a five year old. She’d complain out loud “you don’t want me anymore! I’m just going to move away and everyone will be sorry.” It made the girls very uncomfortable and pissed me off because MIL’s emotional well-being is not the responsibility of my children. Screw her for trying to guilt them.
Again, my daughters do not like their grandmother. It has absolutely nothing to do with me. Grandma made her bed and she should have to suffer the consequences of her shitty behavior. But DH insists that the girls have a relationship with her because he says, “my mom loves the girls.” She does not. I don’t know what she feels, but she doesn’t feel love. She wants to control them, she wants them to do what SHE wants them to do and if they don’t tow that line, she treats them like crap. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t endanger their lives by driving drunk. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren let them have opinions and feelings. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t argue with them because Grandma is jealous. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren don’t humiliate them or others around them. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren get their asses out of bed to make them breakfast, not lounge (probably hung over) until almost lunch. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren do things that the grandchildren want to do, NOT what Grandma wants to do. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren respect their grandchildren’s parents and don’t talk badly about them. Grandma’s that love their grandchildren respect their grandchildren’s needs, not walk all over them.
How DH can say his mother loves the girls is beyond comprehension. So many stories, I can’t even get them all paper. I’m sad because this is what DH believes love looks like. This is what DH thinks is acceptable. This is the behavior that DH thinks is worth ignoring so that his mother can preserve her fantasy that she HAS some sort of relationship with her granddaughters. She doesn’t. It’s gone. She blew it. She lost them and by no fault of anyone else but her own. Since she is unlikely to change, the girls aren’t going to suddenly change their minds and want to like her. Forcing them to be with Grandma because Grandma believes she has a right to them is bullshit. I don’t want to do it. And I don’t know what to do.
DH has agreed to supervised visits with his mother when she returns from a trip in two weeks. Supervised is fine, but what fucking torture! He doesn’t want to be there and neither to do they. Why is he doing this?
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Grandma the Unfit
In early January we decided to take MIL out to dinner for her birthday. We had also invited along MIL’s friend Janet, but she was meeting us at the restaurant. Nobody was really looking forward to this dinner. We were doing it purely out of obligation. A few behavior issues had arisen over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with mother-in-law not even a week earlier and I was still angry about it and the girls were still uncomfortable as well about what she did. But, DH has been stressed for a while now with his job and I’ve begun getting concerned about his well-being. The last thing he needs is stress at home so I was determined to be as pleasant as possible so the evening would hopefully go smoothly. Little did I know that it would actually be a complete horror of an evening despite anything I said or did, but I didn’t know that yet.
We picked MIL up and because she’d had a car accident two months previous and had broken her knee, she was seated in the front seat directly in front of me. I sat in the back seat with the girls. Right away I sensed something was off but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like she was hiding something, or like she was totally faking her behavior. We chatted all the way to the restaurant where we were to meet her friend Janet. Janet was a friend she’d had for about a year and a half, but true to historical form, I had been noticing Judy’s car in her driveway less and less as time went on. It had been over a year. MIL was far past due for losing yet another friend. I suspected Janet had one foot out the door already.
Janet was not yet at the restaurant when we arrived so we sat down at a large table. I sat on one side with youngest to my left and oldest on my right. MIL sat directly across from me and DH was to MIL’s right hand side. At the far end were two large gift bags that contained MIL’s birthday presents. We looked at the menu for a while and continued to wait for Janet. She was taking much longer than expected but the weather wasn’t that great. Then began the evenings torment.
I’ve point out before that MIL has a thing for jewelry. I do too, but I don’t collect it or hoard it for its own sake. Most of the jewelry I have was bequeathed to me by my mother who had many many nice pieces, or it is the jewelry that DH has given me over the years. I like jewelry for its beauty and for the sentimental and emotional value it holds for me.
The evening’s bizarreness ensued when MIL asked me if I liked silver jewelry. I became uneasy because I sensed the conversation was going to go somewhere that I wouldn’t like, I was sure of it. I casually stated that I do, because … I do. I have many silver and sterling pieces of jewelry. I wear it all the time. She begins to sort of argue with me saying that she doesn’t recall seeing me wear any, blah blah blah. I’m not sure her purpose in saying that. Was she insinuating that I was lying or what the hell? I reiterated what I said and tried to stop the direction that it was going because it seemed to serve no purpose. At least no purpose I was aware of. She suddenly began trying to take off a silver bracelet that was on her wrist and she couldn’t get it off. DH had to help her. Once removed, MIL flung the bracelet at me from across the table and said, “do you like that?” I picked it up and looked at it. It was a nice linked beaten sterling silver bracelet. I wasn’t sure what the hell to say so I just said “yes, it’s nice.” MIL sniffs her nose in the air and says “WELL, it’s yours, it’s my birthday present to you!”
I don’t like taking presents from MIL. They always come with strings or she will remind you about it later when she wants something from you. I sensed a control issue rearing its head. Because I didn’t want anything from her at all except her complete removal from the Midwest, I was reluctant to take a bracelet from her that I could not have given two shits about. But, I was still trying to keep the peace for the evening. I decided that it was the better part of valor just to say thank you and be done with it. So I did.
BUT SHE WASN’T DONE YET.
She then started fussing with this necklace around her neck and asked DH to help her remove it. “Do you like gold?” With that statement, she again flung a heavy gold rope chain across the table and it slid to stop next to my fork. What in the actual hell is she doing?? I don’t like necklaces. Really and truly. Well, I do like them. It’s just my neck that doesn’t. I feel claustrophobic in them. When I do wear them, the minute I take them off I sigh happily wondering how I could have stood that weight around my neck all day. Even slim chains make me feel that way. I didn’t want her heavy rope necklace regardless of how nice it was. I told her no and explained why. She then proceeded to tell me why that was ridiculous, or that I should “just get used to it. etc etc. etc.” I continued to tell her no several times, and I handed it back to her. As soon as I did that, Janet arrived at the restaurant and began to sit down next to MIL in a flurry of apologies and “happy birthdays.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but DH informed me later that my not taking her stupid necklace began the downfall of the entire evening.
Once the “hello’s” were said and Janet was settled in her chair we were still waiting for dinner to arrive so DH suggested that MIL open her gifts. MIL is extremely hard to buy for (again this another entry all unto itself), but DH and Crunchy had come up with an idea that I thought was actually pretty good. Since MIL loves to entertain and always has picky food before dinner, Crunchy and DH had purchased a sundry of picky canned or bottled foods that would keep for a while that she could pull out whenever she wanted to entertain. Food items like stuffed olives, and pickled asparagus, prosciutto and preserved salami’s. There were two giant bags of stuff like that. Truly it was the perfect gift for her. As MIL opened the gifts, she ooh’d and ahh’d and seemed to love the idea, as did Janet. But, shortly after that something dark began to slither out of MIL. As they were wrapping up the items and putting them back in the bags, she began to complain that she didn’t want the gifts. She told DH she didn’t want them and that he could take them back. We got her food because “all we want to do is make her fat.” It was ridiculous. It’s not like she had to eat it all at once, and it was just small food and she could put out as little or as much as she wanted. As much as DH tried to convince her the gift was a good one, she refused to listen to him. Her slithering mood did not improve from there.
Next she began to attack me with pointed questions sure to elicit answers that I knew she was never prepared to accept. She said she knew I didn’t like her and wanted to know exactly why. She asked why I didn’t go see how she was two months ago when she was in the car accident that injured her knee. She was just full of questions determined to make me feel guilty. I looked at her and said calmly, “MIL, we aren’t going to discuss any of that now. It’s your birthday dinner.” DH tried to get her to shut up too, quietly telling her to stop it. My oldest sitting next to me was getting scared because I know she’s seen MIL like this before when WE haven’t been around. She’s been a victim of this bad behavior I was sure of it. Oldest tapped my leg and whimpered “mommy, I want to go home.” I put my arm around her and told her it was fine and dinner would be here soon.
Once I calmed Oldest down, I could see that MIL was having a somewhat quiet discussion with DH. I could tell that MIL was complaining about me to me to DH in a voice I could barely make out, but I did hear my name occasionally and something like “fucking daughter-in-law.” One time I heard her say “I know she is pissed off I moved here, but that’s just too bad.” I couldn’t hear or understand most of her criticism and complaining to DH, but my youngest daughter heard every bit of it. My youngest sat there staring at the two of them across the table looking like deer in the headlights.
At this point, dinner arrived. It didn’t stop her momentum at all.
Everyone was uncomfortable and she was starting to get loud. She turned from picking on me to picking on both of our daughters – She harassed my Oldest about her chapped lips and how she never uses chap stick and that it looks awful. She complained about Youngest and her bitten finger nails and what a horrible habit it is, and in the same breath turned and praised Oldest for her gorgeous finger nails. She criticized the way Oldest held her fork – ONCE. She said “What? Don’t you teach your children table manners??” DH who was not happy with how things were progressing said, “yes, we do.” MIL snorted and said “I fucking doubt it.”
I can’t even remember what she went on and on about. DH was getting angry and telling her to stop it. Her friend Janet looked at me in distress, her eyes saying what she wouldn’t: “What the hell is wrong with her?” Then suddenly, about 10 minutes after we got our food MIL announced “I want to go home. Right now!” We all had to hurry and eat, which was fine because we wanted to get away from her. After we packed everything up, she used her four-point walker and moved as fast as her legs could get her. While getting in the car MIL was heard to grip, "I just don't understand why your wife wouldn't take the jewelry?" We got in the car and promptly got lost because the highway on ramps had been moved around during recent construction and were no longer where they were. This is out in the country a bit, so they could have been anywhere. When I tried to explain to DH how to find the highway on ramp, MIL shouts at me from the front seat in a slurred voice “Shuuddup beeetch.” I was so angry at that moment I swear I saw stars. She blabbered nonsense all the way home and I could tell DH had had it with her.
When we pulled into her driveway 10 minutes later, she began to get out of the car while DH got her walker. Before exiting completely, she very purposefully turned in her seat pinning Youngest with a stare and said “sweetie, would you like to help Grandma carry her things into the house?” Youngest looked at her grandmother wide eyed and frightened and shook her head no. After all she witnessed that night, she didn’t want to do anything for Grandma. Grandma became infuriated and shrieked “I beg your pardon!?” She couldn’t actually believe that a peon 9 year old was not going to schlep her damn packages in to the house. I directed her anger at me and said “No, MIL, she doesn’t want to help you, but I will help DH carry your things.” MIL got out of the car in a huff and headed into the house while I grabbed the gift bags and her left over dinner containers and followed them into the garage. MIL had to go backwards up the garage steps to the landing where the door was located. She used her walker as leverage. As she climbed backward up the steps and when she got high enough, she stared at me over DH’s head and was glaring at me with the most hate filled look I have ever seen. She began complaining loudly about me, I can’t remember what she was saying anymore and I just let her complain. But at one point she said “Did you hear me!!??” I guess me not answering her blabbering was not tolerated. I looked at her calmly and said “Oh, I heard you” and said nothing more.
Once in the house I walked past her and set her items down on the counter. Unfortunately I had to walk by her again on my way out the door. She watched me walk by drilling her beady eyes into my skull. As I walked by she screamed as loud as she could:
I sailed past her in the doorway and said nothing.
When DH got home five minutes later, he was furious and said “I’m done with my mother.” He also walked into the girls bedrooms and helped them get into bed and told them both that they didn’t have to go over to see their grandmother anymore for a while. I took that as a huge sign. Had she finally stuck her foot in too far?
I hoped so, and DH did change a little, but it’s not nearly enough because since then he’s been like a flip floppy fish.
There is still so much more to this, and I’m tired.
We picked MIL up and because she’d had a car accident two months previous and had broken her knee, she was seated in the front seat directly in front of me. I sat in the back seat with the girls. Right away I sensed something was off but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like she was hiding something, or like she was totally faking her behavior. We chatted all the way to the restaurant where we were to meet her friend Janet. Janet was a friend she’d had for about a year and a half, but true to historical form, I had been noticing Judy’s car in her driveway less and less as time went on. It had been over a year. MIL was far past due for losing yet another friend. I suspected Janet had one foot out the door already.
Janet was not yet at the restaurant when we arrived so we sat down at a large table. I sat on one side with youngest to my left and oldest on my right. MIL sat directly across from me and DH was to MIL’s right hand side. At the far end were two large gift bags that contained MIL’s birthday presents. We looked at the menu for a while and continued to wait for Janet. She was taking much longer than expected but the weather wasn’t that great. Then began the evenings torment.
I’ve point out before that MIL has a thing for jewelry. I do too, but I don’t collect it or hoard it for its own sake. Most of the jewelry I have was bequeathed to me by my mother who had many many nice pieces, or it is the jewelry that DH has given me over the years. I like jewelry for its beauty and for the sentimental and emotional value it holds for me.
The evening’s bizarreness ensued when MIL asked me if I liked silver jewelry. I became uneasy because I sensed the conversation was going to go somewhere that I wouldn’t like, I was sure of it. I casually stated that I do, because … I do. I have many silver and sterling pieces of jewelry. I wear it all the time. She begins to sort of argue with me saying that she doesn’t recall seeing me wear any, blah blah blah. I’m not sure her purpose in saying that. Was she insinuating that I was lying or what the hell? I reiterated what I said and tried to stop the direction that it was going because it seemed to serve no purpose. At least no purpose I was aware of. She suddenly began trying to take off a silver bracelet that was on her wrist and she couldn’t get it off. DH had to help her. Once removed, MIL flung the bracelet at me from across the table and said, “do you like that?” I picked it up and looked at it. It was a nice linked beaten sterling silver bracelet. I wasn’t sure what the hell to say so I just said “yes, it’s nice.” MIL sniffs her nose in the air and says “WELL, it’s yours, it’s my birthday present to you!”
I don’t like taking presents from MIL. They always come with strings or she will remind you about it later when she wants something from you. I sensed a control issue rearing its head. Because I didn’t want anything from her at all except her complete removal from the Midwest, I was reluctant to take a bracelet from her that I could not have given two shits about. But, I was still trying to keep the peace for the evening. I decided that it was the better part of valor just to say thank you and be done with it. So I did.
BUT SHE WASN’T DONE YET.
She then started fussing with this necklace around her neck and asked DH to help her remove it. “Do you like gold?” With that statement, she again flung a heavy gold rope chain across the table and it slid to stop next to my fork. What in the actual hell is she doing?? I don’t like necklaces. Really and truly. Well, I do like them. It’s just my neck that doesn’t. I feel claustrophobic in them. When I do wear them, the minute I take them off I sigh happily wondering how I could have stood that weight around my neck all day. Even slim chains make me feel that way. I didn’t want her heavy rope necklace regardless of how nice it was. I told her no and explained why. She then proceeded to tell me why that was ridiculous, or that I should “just get used to it. etc etc. etc.” I continued to tell her no several times, and I handed it back to her. As soon as I did that, Janet arrived at the restaurant and began to sit down next to MIL in a flurry of apologies and “happy birthdays.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but DH informed me later that my not taking her stupid necklace began the downfall of the entire evening.
Once the “hello’s” were said and Janet was settled in her chair we were still waiting for dinner to arrive so DH suggested that MIL open her gifts. MIL is extremely hard to buy for (again this another entry all unto itself), but DH and Crunchy had come up with an idea that I thought was actually pretty good. Since MIL loves to entertain and always has picky food before dinner, Crunchy and DH had purchased a sundry of picky canned or bottled foods that would keep for a while that she could pull out whenever she wanted to entertain. Food items like stuffed olives, and pickled asparagus, prosciutto and preserved salami’s. There were two giant bags of stuff like that. Truly it was the perfect gift for her. As MIL opened the gifts, she ooh’d and ahh’d and seemed to love the idea, as did Janet. But, shortly after that something dark began to slither out of MIL. As they were wrapping up the items and putting them back in the bags, she began to complain that she didn’t want the gifts. She told DH she didn’t want them and that he could take them back. We got her food because “all we want to do is make her fat.” It was ridiculous. It’s not like she had to eat it all at once, and it was just small food and she could put out as little or as much as she wanted. As much as DH tried to convince her the gift was a good one, she refused to listen to him. Her slithering mood did not improve from there.
Next she began to attack me with pointed questions sure to elicit answers that I knew she was never prepared to accept. She said she knew I didn’t like her and wanted to know exactly why. She asked why I didn’t go see how she was two months ago when she was in the car accident that injured her knee. She was just full of questions determined to make me feel guilty. I looked at her and said calmly, “MIL, we aren’t going to discuss any of that now. It’s your birthday dinner.” DH tried to get her to shut up too, quietly telling her to stop it. My oldest sitting next to me was getting scared because I know she’s seen MIL like this before when WE haven’t been around. She’s been a victim of this bad behavior I was sure of it. Oldest tapped my leg and whimpered “mommy, I want to go home.” I put my arm around her and told her it was fine and dinner would be here soon.
Once I calmed Oldest down, I could see that MIL was having a somewhat quiet discussion with DH. I could tell that MIL was complaining about me to me to DH in a voice I could barely make out, but I did hear my name occasionally and something like “fucking daughter-in-law.” One time I heard her say “I know she is pissed off I moved here, but that’s just too bad.” I couldn’t hear or understand most of her criticism and complaining to DH, but my youngest daughter heard every bit of it. My youngest sat there staring at the two of them across the table looking like deer in the headlights.
At this point, dinner arrived. It didn’t stop her momentum at all.
Everyone was uncomfortable and she was starting to get loud. She turned from picking on me to picking on both of our daughters – She harassed my Oldest about her chapped lips and how she never uses chap stick and that it looks awful. She complained about Youngest and her bitten finger nails and what a horrible habit it is, and in the same breath turned and praised Oldest for her gorgeous finger nails. She criticized the way Oldest held her fork – ONCE. She said “What? Don’t you teach your children table manners??” DH who was not happy with how things were progressing said, “yes, we do.” MIL snorted and said “I fucking doubt it.”
I can’t even remember what she went on and on about. DH was getting angry and telling her to stop it. Her friend Janet looked at me in distress, her eyes saying what she wouldn’t: “What the hell is wrong with her?” Then suddenly, about 10 minutes after we got our food MIL announced “I want to go home. Right now!” We all had to hurry and eat, which was fine because we wanted to get away from her. After we packed everything up, she used her four-point walker and moved as fast as her legs could get her. While getting in the car MIL was heard to grip, "I just don't understand why your wife wouldn't take the jewelry?" We got in the car and promptly got lost because the highway on ramps had been moved around during recent construction and were no longer where they were. This is out in the country a bit, so they could have been anywhere. When I tried to explain to DH how to find the highway on ramp, MIL shouts at me from the front seat in a slurred voice “Shuuddup beeetch.” I was so angry at that moment I swear I saw stars. She blabbered nonsense all the way home and I could tell DH had had it with her.
When we pulled into her driveway 10 minutes later, she began to get out of the car while DH got her walker. Before exiting completely, she very purposefully turned in her seat pinning Youngest with a stare and said “sweetie, would you like to help Grandma carry her things into the house?” Youngest looked at her grandmother wide eyed and frightened and shook her head no. After all she witnessed that night, she didn’t want to do anything for Grandma. Grandma became infuriated and shrieked “I beg your pardon!?” She couldn’t actually believe that a peon 9 year old was not going to schlep her damn packages in to the house. I directed her anger at me and said “No, MIL, she doesn’t want to help you, but I will help DH carry your things.” MIL got out of the car in a huff and headed into the house while I grabbed the gift bags and her left over dinner containers and followed them into the garage. MIL had to go backwards up the garage steps to the landing where the door was located. She used her walker as leverage. As she climbed backward up the steps and when she got high enough, she stared at me over DH’s head and was glaring at me with the most hate filled look I have ever seen. She began complaining loudly about me, I can’t remember what she was saying anymore and I just let her complain. But at one point she said “Did you hear me!!??” I guess me not answering her blabbering was not tolerated. I looked at her calmly and said “Oh, I heard you” and said nothing more.
Once in the house I walked past her and set her items down on the counter. Unfortunately I had to walk by her again on my way out the door. She watched me walk by drilling her beady eyes into my skull. As I walked by she screamed as loud as she could:
“YOOOUUUU.AAAAREEEEEE.A.FUUCCCKKING BIIIITTTCH!!!"
I sailed past her in the doorway and said nothing.
When DH got home five minutes later, he was furious and said “I’m done with my mother.” He also walked into the girls bedrooms and helped them get into bed and told them both that they didn’t have to go over to see their grandmother anymore for a while. I took that as a huge sign. Had she finally stuck her foot in too far?
I hoped so, and DH did change a little, but it’s not nearly enough because since then he’s been like a flip floppy fish.
There is still so much more to this, and I’m tired.
Instant Rage
Six entries in and I’ve reached a crisis mode of sorts.
As I mentioned in my very first entry, something happened with MIL at the beginning of the year that brought everything hurtling to the forefront once again as far as MIL’s behavior. It was already simmering, but it definitely came to a boil one cold January evening when we took MIL out for a belated birthday dinner. But I’ll get to that later.
For a very long time I’ve managed MIL issues as I could -- day by day. There have been periods of time where she was busy doing her own thing and she didn’t bother us for a while, or periods where she only contacted us when she needed something, and then there have been weird periods of time out of the blue where she’d lean all over DH as if he was the only person in the world. Regardless of HER mood, I was on cruise control, pretty much in denial and simply trying not to let her annoy me. I was able to survive that way for a long time until about a year and a half ago near Halloween when a crack began to appear in my once passive façade.
It was a Saturday afternoon and we were getting the girls into their Halloween costumes because MIL was taking the girls to a local Halloween party that was outside and involved bounce houses. Our house was in a bit of turmoil at that moment because I told both of my girls that they needed decent shoes because it was going to be muddy out and they’d need to be able to slip their shoes on and off easily because of the bounce houses. Unfortunately, shoes have always been a problem for my youngest daughter. She’s one of those sensitive children that cannot tolerate tags in her clothes, seams in her socks, rough or embroidery backing on the inside front of a sweatshirt, etc. Shoes also have to be JUST RIGHT. It’s a struggle. Youngest was having a hard time finding just the right shoes and both DH and I were in her room trying to find something suitable amongst whatever was in her closet that actually fit.
MIL was scheduled to pick the girls up at 2:00 pm. At exactly 2:00 on the dot, MIL flew into the driveway and immediately started honking her horn impatiently. This annoyed me, but I ignored it. When the girls did not come out instantly, she got out of her car and walked into the house making inquiring noises regarding what the girls were doing to take so long. My oldest was ready, but I could hear DH and youngest debating in her bedroom about shoes. It sounded like they were close to coming to a decision. MIL started bickering about the girls being “late.” I explained to MIL that they needed good shoes for what they’d be doing today and we weren’t sure what fit youngest anymore. As my youngest came out into the living room holding the shoes she had chosen to wear she wanted me to help put them on so it would go faster. I squatted down to assist her, listening to MIL continue to whine about the time and how she had to “pick up Janet” and she’d be late. Claire started to say something about her sock not fitting right so we were trying to make it work when MIL just went off, loudly beginning to yell at my children for taking so long. I’m sitting there when it dawns on me that despite the fact that these are MY children and we are in MY house and she’s the one her who offered to take them on this trip and she’s also the one who decided what time she was picking them up, MIL was berating and harassing them right in front of me like it was her prerogative to verbally bash my kids. That was not okay. Not only were my daughters standing right there, but their 9 year old girlfriend friend was as well. This poor little girl stood there listening to MIL’s diatribe with her eyes as round as saucers. MIL’s urgency and bellowing was unpleasant and it was stressing everyone out. I saw no reason for it at all. Had it been 2:15 or something that would have been different, but it was only about 2:02. They certainly were not late.
As I continued to tie shoes, I said very calmly and matter of fact, “MIL, we’ve waited for when you were running late, I think you can be patient for the girls right now.” I did not say it rudely. It was a fact and nothing more than my response to her haranguing my children. Immediately, and I do mean immediately, her eyes popped out of her head and this is the discussion that ensued:
MIL’s concern that it is rude to make someone wait was absurd. MIL makes everyone wait for her whether she has guests or someone else has guests waiting on her as well. She does not care one jot. She’s late every time we pick her up to go somewhere. She’s late to every event at our home we invite her to. She has been LATE to almost every birthday party we have ever had for our girls, and she was 40 minutes late to her own 70th birthday party when it was being held across the street from her house.
After calling me a bitch, MIL stormed out like a ticked off teenager, the girls following in her wake. I was concerned how she’d treat them but they were getting into the car and excited to go, so I let them. I have no idea how she behaved in the car after that.
After everyone was gone I discussed what happened with DH and I was angry. He seemed stunned that she called me a bitch, and I told him that I was D.O.N.E. with her. He said that he didn’t blame me. But that’s pretty much where it ended. I’m 100% positive that he never said a word to her about it, never told her NOT to say anything like that to me again. It was simply forgotten, by everyone, especially WWW as if it never happened. But, I didn’t forget. I was not kidding when I told DH that I was done and I meant it. From that time forward I ignored her. If she walked into the house, I left the room. I didn’t acknowledge her presence either. If she said hello, I would say it back, but that’s it. This had the effect of really pissing her off because she wasn’t getting the deference from me she felt she deserved, which she absolutely did not. It was tense and I barely allowed her in my orbit unless I had to.
From that point on as well, relations between MIL and our daughters were getting worse. The girls were complaining that they didn’t want to be with her. My youngest threw fits and cried if she was required to spend the night or grandma wanted them for the night. In addition, I began noticing odd controlling behavior with MIL that she was pull right in front of DH and I that was NOT serving to build a strong and loving relationship with her granddaughters. Why she didn’t and doesn’t understand now that her behavior with them has caused them to dislike being around her very much is shocking. But clearly she doesn’t get it. MIL’s relationship with the girls will be another entry. Nonetheless, the girls’ relationship with MIL is what is causing my current crisis and where I feel at a loss on what to do since DH is STILL not getting it.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself. After the bitch calling incident, things continued as I have explained above -- tense with me, and getting worse with the girls. And then came the blow up in early January.
As I mentioned in my very first entry, something happened with MIL at the beginning of the year that brought everything hurtling to the forefront once again as far as MIL’s behavior. It was already simmering, but it definitely came to a boil one cold January evening when we took MIL out for a belated birthday dinner. But I’ll get to that later.
For a very long time I’ve managed MIL issues as I could -- day by day. There have been periods of time where she was busy doing her own thing and she didn’t bother us for a while, or periods where she only contacted us when she needed something, and then there have been weird periods of time out of the blue where she’d lean all over DH as if he was the only person in the world. Regardless of HER mood, I was on cruise control, pretty much in denial and simply trying not to let her annoy me. I was able to survive that way for a long time until about a year and a half ago near Halloween when a crack began to appear in my once passive façade.
It was a Saturday afternoon and we were getting the girls into their Halloween costumes because MIL was taking the girls to a local Halloween party that was outside and involved bounce houses. Our house was in a bit of turmoil at that moment because I told both of my girls that they needed decent shoes because it was going to be muddy out and they’d need to be able to slip their shoes on and off easily because of the bounce houses. Unfortunately, shoes have always been a problem for my youngest daughter. She’s one of those sensitive children that cannot tolerate tags in her clothes, seams in her socks, rough or embroidery backing on the inside front of a sweatshirt, etc. Shoes also have to be JUST RIGHT. It’s a struggle. Youngest was having a hard time finding just the right shoes and both DH and I were in her room trying to find something suitable amongst whatever was in her closet that actually fit.
MIL was scheduled to pick the girls up at 2:00 pm. At exactly 2:00 on the dot, MIL flew into the driveway and immediately started honking her horn impatiently. This annoyed me, but I ignored it. When the girls did not come out instantly, she got out of her car and walked into the house making inquiring noises regarding what the girls were doing to take so long. My oldest was ready, but I could hear DH and youngest debating in her bedroom about shoes. It sounded like they were close to coming to a decision. MIL started bickering about the girls being “late.” I explained to MIL that they needed good shoes for what they’d be doing today and we weren’t sure what fit youngest anymore. As my youngest came out into the living room holding the shoes she had chosen to wear she wanted me to help put them on so it would go faster. I squatted down to assist her, listening to MIL continue to whine about the time and how she had to “pick up Janet” and she’d be late. Claire started to say something about her sock not fitting right so we were trying to make it work when MIL just went off, loudly beginning to yell at my children for taking so long. I’m sitting there when it dawns on me that despite the fact that these are MY children and we are in MY house and she’s the one her who offered to take them on this trip and she’s also the one who decided what time she was picking them up, MIL was berating and harassing them right in front of me like it was her prerogative to verbally bash my kids. That was not okay. Not only were my daughters standing right there, but their 9 year old girlfriend friend was as well. This poor little girl stood there listening to MIL’s diatribe with her eyes as round as saucers. MIL’s urgency and bellowing was unpleasant and it was stressing everyone out. I saw no reason for it at all. Had it been 2:15 or something that would have been different, but it was only about 2:02. They certainly were not late.
As I continued to tie shoes, I said very calmly and matter of fact, “MIL, we’ve waited for when you were running late, I think you can be patient for the girls right now.” I did not say it rudely. It was a fact and nothing more than my response to her haranguing my children. Immediately, and I do mean immediately, her eyes popped out of her head and this is the discussion that ensued:
MIL: “I BEG YOUR PARDON?!!!!” YOU HAVE NEVER ONCE HAD TO WAIT FOR ME!!!!”She’s raging at me that I’m a bitch and doing this in front our children and their friend, all because I reminded her that we’ve been patient for her and asking the same courtesy in return. This is what sends this woman into crazed indignation.
Me: Standing up now I said “Yes, MIL, many many times we have waited for you. You can wait just a minute longer. They aren’t late, it’s barely past 2:00.”
MIL: “But I have a friend waiting and it’s rude to make her wait.” [This pissed me off because MIL makes everyone wait for her ALWAYS.]
Me: “That’s never stopped you from making us wait for you before.”
MIL: Now she’s in a rage and she bursts out “YOUUUUU BITCH!!!!”
MIL’s concern that it is rude to make someone wait was absurd. MIL makes everyone wait for her whether she has guests or someone else has guests waiting on her as well. She does not care one jot. She’s late every time we pick her up to go somewhere. She’s late to every event at our home we invite her to. She has been LATE to almost every birthday party we have ever had for our girls, and she was 40 minutes late to her own 70th birthday party when it was being held across the street from her house.
After calling me a bitch, MIL stormed out like a ticked off teenager, the girls following in her wake. I was concerned how she’d treat them but they were getting into the car and excited to go, so I let them. I have no idea how she behaved in the car after that.
After everyone was gone I discussed what happened with DH and I was angry. He seemed stunned that she called me a bitch, and I told him that I was D.O.N.E. with her. He said that he didn’t blame me. But that’s pretty much where it ended. I’m 100% positive that he never said a word to her about it, never told her NOT to say anything like that to me again. It was simply forgotten, by everyone, especially WWW as if it never happened. But, I didn’t forget. I was not kidding when I told DH that I was done and I meant it. From that time forward I ignored her. If she walked into the house, I left the room. I didn’t acknowledge her presence either. If she said hello, I would say it back, but that’s it. This had the effect of really pissing her off because she wasn’t getting the deference from me she felt she deserved, which she absolutely did not. It was tense and I barely allowed her in my orbit unless I had to.
From that point on as well, relations between MIL and our daughters were getting worse. The girls were complaining that they didn’t want to be with her. My youngest threw fits and cried if she was required to spend the night or grandma wanted them for the night. In addition, I began noticing odd controlling behavior with MIL that she was pull right in front of DH and I that was NOT serving to build a strong and loving relationship with her granddaughters. Why she didn’t and doesn’t understand now that her behavior with them has caused them to dislike being around her very much is shocking. But clearly she doesn’t get it. MIL’s relationship with the girls will be another entry. Nonetheless, the girls’ relationship with MIL is what is causing my current crisis and where I feel at a loss on what to do since DH is STILL not getting it.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself. After the bitch calling incident, things continued as I have explained above -- tense with me, and getting worse with the girls. And then came the blow up in early January.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
On Cliff Ledge I Would Shove
I’ve always liked the saying “There’s no place like home.” Home is a place where one should feel where you can go to escape any troubles, where help always waits, where it’s comforting, familiar and those around you understand you. A place to call your own. One that you control.
I waited a really long time to have my own home. My first disastrous marriage ended in divorce after nine years in which was I was left standing with only some furniture, my clothes and about $4,000.00 in debt. I count my blessings because there was nothing to permanently link me to the man, such as children. We didn’t have to sell a house, we had no children to fight for custody, and we didn’t even have a savings account to split. After that marriage ended, the things I wanted for my life didn’t change. I still wanted a home. I desired many things that I felt like I should have had already by the time I reached 30 -- a home, children, security, etc. All of that.
Eventually, of course, I did end up having those things with DH and with DH is where I belong. For the first two years of our marriage, it was complete happiness. We were together planning our future and intertwined with each other’s lives as it should be. The first year we spent incorporating our belongings and our personalities into one. As we approached our one year anniversary, my biological clock was ticking and knew that if children were going to be a part of our life, then we needed to get on with the gettin’ on. In early summer of our first year of marriage we began looking for a new home. We loved our current home, but it wasn’t large enough or family friendly enough for a baby and all its belongings.
In October of 2002, we closed on a house that we had basically built from the studs up and we moved into our new abode with excitement. During that time, I’d convinced DH that we needed this adorable, all but abandoned dog that I discovered. Never one to tell me no, DH agreed and our new pooch came into our lives. He must have been our fertility charm, because two months later I found out I was pregnant.
I have no real recollection of MIL during this time frame. All was well. She was far away and if we had to deal with her it was over the phone. She still called DH way too many times a day but that could be ignored for the most part. The only interaction I do recall was one time when the phone rang, and when I answered WWW said “are you fat yet?” That’s her. No tact. She thought she was being funny. I just thought she was acting entirely too familiar. Like … it might be amusing if my best friend called and said “hey are you fat yet?” because I would know she meant that in a loving and humorous way. With WWW, we were not close and her comment wasn’t funny and I didn’t take it that way and I doubt she really meant it that way either. I took it for what it was, spew from the mouth of Mount Vicious.
Almost all of our immediate family members live far away. WWW, Crunchy and my sister “Middle” live over 1,000 miles away. My other sister “Oldest” lives an hour away. My parents were gone and DH’s dad (when he was alive) and step-mom live six hours away. If any immediate family was to visit after our baby was born, it would mean that they were staying in our house during the duration of their stay as we have room to accommodate guests. However, DH and I agreed we didn’t want any family around the first week after the baby was born. I specifically didn’t want the pressure of guests, even family, staying in our house while I healed and we bonded with the baby that first week. I don’t believe that was an out-of-line request and I still don’t. Also, that request applied across the board, no matter who they were in our family. We informed our relatives of our request a few months in advance. Everyone in our family understood and respected that request — except WWW. Not surprising after what I know now. She doesn’t like boundaries. She doesn’t like being told she has to do something (or not do something) that she feels she has every right to do. Approximately two to three weeks or so AFTER everyone had been told of our request (including her), WWW totally-on-purpose mixed our request up. It was her view that we had said that we didn’t want her to visit after the baby was born AT ALL. She believed this because she had spoken to Crunchy on the phone and that Crunchy told her that we didn’t want her there at all. This of course was not true and Crunchy did not say that. DH had told his mother with his own mouth what our request was and she didn’t have much of a response. As I have learned over the years, a non-response by her to something that should produce a response only means that she’s really pissed and is thinking up any number of ways to blow it up in your face LATER.
What really happened was that after WWW’s alleged discussion with Crunchy, WWW chose to believe that particular version of the request, rather than the one specifically told her by her own son. In her fury over this imagined slight, she emailed DH and said: “If I am not wanted then I will have nothing to do with your baby ever and will walk out of your lives forever!” She said some other things too, but that was the extent of the message. DH was immediately upset and I was appalled. I had never dealt first hand with such knee jerk, in-your-face brutal selfishness before, especially over something that was patently false. That his mother believed we’d even think such a thing was absurd. That she would make the request regarding the birth of our first child all about HER had me taken aback. Worse, was she really set to walk out of our lives and have nothing whatsoever to do with her grandchild? I laughed because her threat, at least to me, was no threat at all! Not so much DH. I don’t think she really believed we said that. I think she dreamed up some bullshit so she could play the “wounded mother” routine so everyone would feel sorry for her and turn everything around from being about DH and I and our new child to being about poor Mommy Dearest. What was so infuriating is that I saw what she was doing and I would never have tolerated someone like that in my life for one more second were it not that she was DH’s mother.
After the baby arrived, WWW came almost immediately after the first week. While she was visiting, WWW happened to notice the real estate lot across the street from our house was for sale. It was the last lot in the neighborhood that had yet to be sold. She bought it. She bought it, picked up her entire life from over 1,000 miles away and plopped it 30 yards away. I could do nothing to stop it, because why? Because I didn’t know what she was yet, I knew she was a bitch and really annoying, but I didn’t understand the horrible dysfunction and evil she could do. Because she was so good at manipulation, she was able to smoothly lie her way in until it was too late.
When she purchased the lot, WWW indicated that she was only purchasing the lot for real estate investment purposes, which could have been true. WWW was heavily involved in the real estate area at that time and had three or four other properties in CA, AZ and FL that she owned. I mentioned my apprehension about this to DH and he placated me with “it’s just an investment.” A few months later WWW stated she was actually going to build a house on the property, but not actually live there. She was going to flip it and make some money. I was alarmed by this time, but DH assured me she’d never live here because she hates cold weather and the snow. A few months after that, she announced that she actually was going to live there, but only live there a few months out of the year because she hated snow. By this time, I’m alarmed as hell, and DH was at a loss. He told me she’d only be here in the summer, but NEVER the winter or fall -- remember she hated the snow? It wouldn’t be that bad. By the time the house was finished she gave up all pretense of living here part time, and began behaving like she was going to be living here permanently. There was no announcement or informing us that it changed. She just suddenly changed ALL of her information to her new house as her permanent residence, changed her health insurance, and began to make the plans to move EVERYTHING in a semitruck here including her vehicle. There was no opportunity to say “hey, ummm, no. You can’t live there forever.” There was never consultation or discussion with us about if that was something we wanted. Why would it? She doesn’t give a shit about what any one wants but herself. She did, however, KNOW damn well it wasn’t a good idea, which is why she never asked us outright, never indicated what her real plans were and hid it from us. I was sick to my stomach about it. I was learning to hate her and did not know how I was going to deal with that. I hated everything about her. I hated her haughtiness, I hated her know-it-all conversations, I hated her voice, I hated that she treated my husband like a slave and our marriage like an inconvenience. My biggest fear was that I was going to resent my husband for allowing all this. And I told him so.
Another huge factor that arose out of her building a house across the street from us was that I didn’t realize that all that planning and building would require her to fly back and forth countless times, at which point each time she visited to do business she stayed IN OUR HOUSE no less than 10 days at a time. All added together, she lived with us for approximately four months over the span of a year. By the end of all the building, no description can begin to cover how badly I was beginning to lose my mind with the constant interruptions of our newly formed family. Whenever she came to visit, our life was turned upside down and she demanded all of DH’s time. She and DH were CONSTANTLY going over the building plans, driving here and there to Lowe’s or Home Depot helping her pick out every little fucking thing in her house. He had to meet with the builders every time that she did. I tried to get DH to see how intrusive it was, how it bothered me. He just nodded and didn’t say much and never even tried to set boundaries with her. He continued to let her constant interruptions upset the flow of our family life. What’s more, the interruptions didn’t even stop when she was gone. Because if she was gone it was up to DH to meet with the builders on his mother’s behalf, his job to cruise around town looking for the perfect tile she’d picked out at the right price, his job to check the work being done every day on the house. It was never fucking ending. I couldn’t escape. Ever.
I know some people will not understand why I didn’t stop her or tell her no. Or put my foot down. Confrontation was never my thing and this was his mother! I feel like a coward. But for the most part, I was kept out of the loop as to what was going on. DH had two jobs and was extremely busy and when his mother was in town, there was no room for me, not that I cared. This was mother/son bonding over this house and they were apparently just fine doing all of this without me around. As WWW’s plans changed about her living arrangements, the excuses just kept pouring in and gradually getting worse until it was too late and she was moving here permanently. By this time I was pregnant with our second child.
Once she moved in across the street, our marital life was flipped upside down. No more did I feel like it was our marriage and we were building it together as one unit. Once the old bat moved in, I felt like I was sharing my husband with another woman. And I was!! Countless hours. Hours upon hours he spent with her BEFORE she even moved in, and now he was apparently to spend countless hours doing work for her to make sure her moving in experience was just perfect. I can’t even begin to tell you the number of hours he spent doing shit for her. Time that was taken away from his own family and from me. It didn’t seem to faze him. Even if I complained. It was normal for him. No big deal. So constant has DH been at her beck and call for the last 10 years, so ceaseless have her phone calls been every day, sometimes five, six, seven calls a day even though she lives within shouting distance, that the resentment I so feared came to fruition. It was clear she felt DH was her property to claim and shove around and claim and she was going to prove it by doing exactly as she damn well please. Her unending need of him for this and for that, and come here and fix this RIGHT NOW that sometimes I felt like I hated them both. More times than not I seethed under my breath that if she’s so god dammed important to him then why doesn’t he just move in with her.
So many nasty things this woman has done and said to me. So many now I barely remember 80% of them. I think I’ve just blocked them. I think I blew them off to some dusty place in my mind because to think about them was painful. However, some of them I do remember and the one I’m going to tell next was particularly heinous.
It should be no surprise that by this time, I was learning to keep my distance from WWW and that I didn’t like her much. I think that WWW was sensing a change in me and she tried to reach out to keep me in her clutches. One night during one of her many visits, she did something that once I got away from her, I sobbed and sobbed. I think one of most eye opening things for a woman who has a baby is that once you have a baby of your own, you can now comprehend just how much your own mother loves you. Mother love is kind of overwhelming. How could any woman really know what a mother’s love is like until you are one? When a woman first becomes a mother, I sincerely believe that it becomes a time when you want your own mother around. I didn’t have mine. She was four years gone. It was a gaping hole that could never be filled. I struggled (and still do) to learn how to be a parent without being able to share my children with them.
That night while talking, WWW had the audacity to try and use my mother’s memory in some bullshit ploy to get me to accept her. WWW had never met my parents. She has never, not even once, asked about them nor has she ever appeared to have the slightest interest in them. I doubt she even knows their names. But that night she spoke about my mom as if she and my mother had been fast friends. WWW leaned in to me, putting her hand on mine and said in a syrupy voice:
I wanted to vomit. I was mortified. For her to assume that SHE as a MOTHER is somehow comparable for the loss of mine was incomprehensible. My mother was a saint compared to her. This woman can’t keep a relationship longer than six months. When my mom died we had to have the funeral service in a ginormous chapel to accommodate everyone and, even then, they had to add chairs to the back of the chapel, and then when the chairs ran out, a line of standing room only guests snaked out the door into the parking lot where people stood in the wet drizzle anyway even though they couldn’t see anything. That is how much my mother was loved. There is no comparing my mother to her. While my mother had standing room only at her funeral service, I guarantee there won’t even be one person to who will give enough of a shit to spit on this woman’s grave when she dies.
This is why I loathe this woman. My mother was not perfect but she was the epitome of a real mother’s love. She knew how to show concern, and selflessness, sympathy and caring. Her kids came first. That this hag masquerades as some sort of “mother” is a fucking sham that I can’t stand. Worse, is that DH can’t even see how foul she is.
This is why if nobody was watching and I knew I could get away with it, that I would shove her off a cliff and dust off my hands and feel no remorse. She is a pox on humanity. A vile, vicious alcoholic bitch who serves no good purpose on this earth. AT ALL.
I waited a really long time to have my own home. My first disastrous marriage ended in divorce after nine years in which was I was left standing with only some furniture, my clothes and about $4,000.00 in debt. I count my blessings because there was nothing to permanently link me to the man, such as children. We didn’t have to sell a house, we had no children to fight for custody, and we didn’t even have a savings account to split. After that marriage ended, the things I wanted for my life didn’t change. I still wanted a home. I desired many things that I felt like I should have had already by the time I reached 30 -- a home, children, security, etc. All of that.
Eventually, of course, I did end up having those things with DH and with DH is where I belong. For the first two years of our marriage, it was complete happiness. We were together planning our future and intertwined with each other’s lives as it should be. The first year we spent incorporating our belongings and our personalities into one. As we approached our one year anniversary, my biological clock was ticking and knew that if children were going to be a part of our life, then we needed to get on with the gettin’ on. In early summer of our first year of marriage we began looking for a new home. We loved our current home, but it wasn’t large enough or family friendly enough for a baby and all its belongings.
In October of 2002, we closed on a house that we had basically built from the studs up and we moved into our new abode with excitement. During that time, I’d convinced DH that we needed this adorable, all but abandoned dog that I discovered. Never one to tell me no, DH agreed and our new pooch came into our lives. He must have been our fertility charm, because two months later I found out I was pregnant.
I have no real recollection of MIL during this time frame. All was well. She was far away and if we had to deal with her it was over the phone. She still called DH way too many times a day but that could be ignored for the most part. The only interaction I do recall was one time when the phone rang, and when I answered WWW said “are you fat yet?” That’s her. No tact. She thought she was being funny. I just thought she was acting entirely too familiar. Like … it might be amusing if my best friend called and said “hey are you fat yet?” because I would know she meant that in a loving and humorous way. With WWW, we were not close and her comment wasn’t funny and I didn’t take it that way and I doubt she really meant it that way either. I took it for what it was, spew from the mouth of Mount Vicious.
Almost all of our immediate family members live far away. WWW, Crunchy and my sister “Middle” live over 1,000 miles away. My other sister “Oldest” lives an hour away. My parents were gone and DH’s dad (when he was alive) and step-mom live six hours away. If any immediate family was to visit after our baby was born, it would mean that they were staying in our house during the duration of their stay as we have room to accommodate guests. However, DH and I agreed we didn’t want any family around the first week after the baby was born. I specifically didn’t want the pressure of guests, even family, staying in our house while I healed and we bonded with the baby that first week. I don’t believe that was an out-of-line request and I still don’t. Also, that request applied across the board, no matter who they were in our family. We informed our relatives of our request a few months in advance. Everyone in our family understood and respected that request — except WWW. Not surprising after what I know now. She doesn’t like boundaries. She doesn’t like being told she has to do something (or not do something) that she feels she has every right to do. Approximately two to three weeks or so AFTER everyone had been told of our request (including her), WWW totally-on-purpose mixed our request up. It was her view that we had said that we didn’t want her to visit after the baby was born AT ALL. She believed this because she had spoken to Crunchy on the phone and that Crunchy told her that we didn’t want her there at all. This of course was not true and Crunchy did not say that. DH had told his mother with his own mouth what our request was and she didn’t have much of a response. As I have learned over the years, a non-response by her to something that should produce a response only means that she’s really pissed and is thinking up any number of ways to blow it up in your face LATER.
What really happened was that after WWW’s alleged discussion with Crunchy, WWW chose to believe that particular version of the request, rather than the one specifically told her by her own son. In her fury over this imagined slight, she emailed DH and said: “If I am not wanted then I will have nothing to do with your baby ever and will walk out of your lives forever!” She said some other things too, but that was the extent of the message. DH was immediately upset and I was appalled. I had never dealt first hand with such knee jerk, in-your-face brutal selfishness before, especially over something that was patently false. That his mother believed we’d even think such a thing was absurd. That she would make the request regarding the birth of our first child all about HER had me taken aback. Worse, was she really set to walk out of our lives and have nothing whatsoever to do with her grandchild? I laughed because her threat, at least to me, was no threat at all! Not so much DH. I don’t think she really believed we said that. I think she dreamed up some bullshit so she could play the “wounded mother” routine so everyone would feel sorry for her and turn everything around from being about DH and I and our new child to being about poor Mommy Dearest. What was so infuriating is that I saw what she was doing and I would never have tolerated someone like that in my life for one more second were it not that she was DH’s mother.
After the baby arrived, WWW came almost immediately after the first week. While she was visiting, WWW happened to notice the real estate lot across the street from our house was for sale. It was the last lot in the neighborhood that had yet to be sold. She bought it. She bought it, picked up her entire life from over 1,000 miles away and plopped it 30 yards away. I could do nothing to stop it, because why? Because I didn’t know what she was yet, I knew she was a bitch and really annoying, but I didn’t understand the horrible dysfunction and evil she could do. Because she was so good at manipulation, she was able to smoothly lie her way in until it was too late.
When she purchased the lot, WWW indicated that she was only purchasing the lot for real estate investment purposes, which could have been true. WWW was heavily involved in the real estate area at that time and had three or four other properties in CA, AZ and FL that she owned. I mentioned my apprehension about this to DH and he placated me with “it’s just an investment.” A few months later WWW stated she was actually going to build a house on the property, but not actually live there. She was going to flip it and make some money. I was alarmed by this time, but DH assured me she’d never live here because she hates cold weather and the snow. A few months after that, she announced that she actually was going to live there, but only live there a few months out of the year because she hated snow. By this time, I’m alarmed as hell, and DH was at a loss. He told me she’d only be here in the summer, but NEVER the winter or fall -- remember she hated the snow? It wouldn’t be that bad. By the time the house was finished she gave up all pretense of living here part time, and began behaving like she was going to be living here permanently. There was no announcement or informing us that it changed. She just suddenly changed ALL of her information to her new house as her permanent residence, changed her health insurance, and began to make the plans to move EVERYTHING in a semitruck here including her vehicle. There was no opportunity to say “hey, ummm, no. You can’t live there forever.” There was never consultation or discussion with us about if that was something we wanted. Why would it? She doesn’t give a shit about what any one wants but herself. She did, however, KNOW damn well it wasn’t a good idea, which is why she never asked us outright, never indicated what her real plans were and hid it from us. I was sick to my stomach about it. I was learning to hate her and did not know how I was going to deal with that. I hated everything about her. I hated her haughtiness, I hated her know-it-all conversations, I hated her voice, I hated that she treated my husband like a slave and our marriage like an inconvenience. My biggest fear was that I was going to resent my husband for allowing all this. And I told him so.
Another huge factor that arose out of her building a house across the street from us was that I didn’t realize that all that planning and building would require her to fly back and forth countless times, at which point each time she visited to do business she stayed IN OUR HOUSE no less than 10 days at a time. All added together, she lived with us for approximately four months over the span of a year. By the end of all the building, no description can begin to cover how badly I was beginning to lose my mind with the constant interruptions of our newly formed family. Whenever she came to visit, our life was turned upside down and she demanded all of DH’s time. She and DH were CONSTANTLY going over the building plans, driving here and there to Lowe’s or Home Depot helping her pick out every little fucking thing in her house. He had to meet with the builders every time that she did. I tried to get DH to see how intrusive it was, how it bothered me. He just nodded and didn’t say much and never even tried to set boundaries with her. He continued to let her constant interruptions upset the flow of our family life. What’s more, the interruptions didn’t even stop when she was gone. Because if she was gone it was up to DH to meet with the builders on his mother’s behalf, his job to cruise around town looking for the perfect tile she’d picked out at the right price, his job to check the work being done every day on the house. It was never fucking ending. I couldn’t escape. Ever.
I know some people will not understand why I didn’t stop her or tell her no. Or put my foot down. Confrontation was never my thing and this was his mother! I feel like a coward. But for the most part, I was kept out of the loop as to what was going on. DH had two jobs and was extremely busy and when his mother was in town, there was no room for me, not that I cared. This was mother/son bonding over this house and they were apparently just fine doing all of this without me around. As WWW’s plans changed about her living arrangements, the excuses just kept pouring in and gradually getting worse until it was too late and she was moving here permanently. By this time I was pregnant with our second child.
Once she moved in across the street, our marital life was flipped upside down. No more did I feel like it was our marriage and we were building it together as one unit. Once the old bat moved in, I felt like I was sharing my husband with another woman. And I was!! Countless hours. Hours upon hours he spent with her BEFORE she even moved in, and now he was apparently to spend countless hours doing work for her to make sure her moving in experience was just perfect. I can’t even begin to tell you the number of hours he spent doing shit for her. Time that was taken away from his own family and from me. It didn’t seem to faze him. Even if I complained. It was normal for him. No big deal. So constant has DH been at her beck and call for the last 10 years, so ceaseless have her phone calls been every day, sometimes five, six, seven calls a day even though she lives within shouting distance, that the resentment I so feared came to fruition. It was clear she felt DH was her property to claim and shove around and claim and she was going to prove it by doing exactly as she damn well please. Her unending need of him for this and for that, and come here and fix this RIGHT NOW that sometimes I felt like I hated them both. More times than not I seethed under my breath that if she’s so god dammed important to him then why doesn’t he just move in with her.
So many nasty things this woman has done and said to me. So many now I barely remember 80% of them. I think I’ve just blocked them. I think I blew them off to some dusty place in my mind because to think about them was painful. However, some of them I do remember and the one I’m going to tell next was particularly heinous.
It should be no surprise that by this time, I was learning to keep my distance from WWW and that I didn’t like her much. I think that WWW was sensing a change in me and she tried to reach out to keep me in her clutches. One night during one of her many visits, she did something that once I got away from her, I sobbed and sobbed. I think one of most eye opening things for a woman who has a baby is that once you have a baby of your own, you can now comprehend just how much your own mother loves you. Mother love is kind of overwhelming. How could any woman really know what a mother’s love is like until you are one? When a woman first becomes a mother, I sincerely believe that it becomes a time when you want your own mother around. I didn’t have mine. She was four years gone. It was a gaping hole that could never be filled. I struggled (and still do) to learn how to be a parent without being able to share my children with them.
That night while talking, WWW had the audacity to try and use my mother’s memory in some bullshit ploy to get me to accept her. WWW had never met my parents. She has never, not even once, asked about them nor has she ever appeared to have the slightest interest in them. I doubt she even knows their names. But that night she spoke about my mom as if she and my mother had been fast friends. WWW leaned in to me, putting her hand on mine and said in a syrupy voice:
“I wanted to tell you that your mom came to me in a dream last night. It was obvious that she was very happy that I was now in your life and she wanted me to know --- I believe that she was showing me that she was wanting to share you with me as a mother.”
I wanted to vomit. I was mortified. For her to assume that SHE as a MOTHER is somehow comparable for the loss of mine was incomprehensible. My mother was a saint compared to her. This woman can’t keep a relationship longer than six months. When my mom died we had to have the funeral service in a ginormous chapel to accommodate everyone and, even then, they had to add chairs to the back of the chapel, and then when the chairs ran out, a line of standing room only guests snaked out the door into the parking lot where people stood in the wet drizzle anyway even though they couldn’t see anything. That is how much my mother was loved. There is no comparing my mother to her. While my mother had standing room only at her funeral service, I guarantee there won’t even be one person to who will give enough of a shit to spit on this woman’s grave when she dies.
This is why I loathe this woman. My mother was not perfect but she was the epitome of a real mother’s love. She knew how to show concern, and selflessness, sympathy and caring. Her kids came first. That this hag masquerades as some sort of “mother” is a fucking sham that I can’t stand. Worse, is that DH can’t even see how foul she is.
This is why if nobody was watching and I knew I could get away with it, that I would shove her off a cliff and dust off my hands and feel no remorse. She is a pox on humanity. A vile, vicious alcoholic bitch who serves no good purpose on this earth. AT ALL.
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