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Mother-In-Law Mall
A place to find great gifts!
and products related to mothers-in-law and other family members.
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Mother-In-Law Stories
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Frequent
Fry HerTM
mamaalanna
Age: 55
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- mamaalanna/Posted: 7-APR-12
The more I think about it, the more I believe that the posters who
said MIL was OCD are right. Nothing else could explain the Great
Peanut Butter Sandwich Hissyfit.
I like peanut butter. I like jam and jelly. I do NOT like
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. For me, each one ruins the
other, kind of like hot fudge sauce on a garlic pizza.
So, when I make a PBJ "sandwich" for myself, I spread the
peanut butter on one slice of bread, jam on the other, and fold them
over on themselves to make 2 half-sandwiches. I don't use any
more filling than you would use in an ordinary PBJ, and actually use
somewhat less.
So I was totally unprepared on one of our early visits to the PIL's
house to have MIL throw a fit over how I chose to eat an ordinary
lunch. I was "spoiled" and "greedy" and
"wasteful" because of how I made my sandwich. DH tried
to point out that it was no different than an ordinary PBJ, but that
did no good. The woman was red in the face. She was so
angry at my food choices. It was pretty clear that she begrudged
every bite of food that went into my mouth. Meanwhile, Golden
Child BIL was using most of the loaf to make himself 6 or 7 sandwiches,
with gobs and gobs of both PB and J. One of his sandwiches used
at least 4 times what mine did.
Signed - I Couldn't Do
ANYTHING Right!
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- mamaalanna/Posted: 3-MAR-12
I was a barbarian from the wilds of a couple of western states.
So, to MIL's East Coast sensibilities, of course everything I did
was wrong, starting with taking her baby boy away from her.
Never mind that Baby Boy was 21 and had been in the military for 2
years. It was MY fault that he didn't write to his parents more
than once a month on his first deployment. Never mind that I
wasn't even there - we were in very different parts of the country.
He didn't write to me any more often!
It was hard keeping up a LD relationship, but MIL made it harder on
DH. She sent him letter after letter, snarling about me.
Not only had I snared him and turned him against his family, I was
probably sleeping around and would be pregnant with another man's
child when he married me. He didn't tell me any of this.
I found out when I discovered one of her letters in a pile of miscellaneous
papers after we married.
I could maybe understand it if I had married the GC, but I didn't.
DH was the scapegoat. His younger brother was the GC.
When they were kids, it was DH's job to keep GC out of trouble.
What that meant, of course, is that he got blamed for everything.
If GC wanted to do some kid thing like jump on the bed, and DH let
him, he was in trouble for that. If DH stopped him from doing
something, he was in trouble for making his little brother cry.
Is it any wonder that DH escaped as soon as he could?
Once MIL met me, she really got her hooks into me. She was the
poster child for "Different is Wrong!!!" I didn't
keep house the way she did. Can you believe it, I was such a
slob that when I washed dishes, I let them *air dry*?!? My food
didn't taste like her food. I "put dried grass all over
it." They're called "herbs", MIL! I breast-fed
my babies when they were hungry, instead of keeping them on a schedule
and poking a bottle down them, making them take it all whether they
wanted it or not. Every three weeks I had severe menstrual cramps
that at times sent me into shock. She never had them, so obviously,
I was "faking to get sympathy". The migraines in-between
each cycle were "faked" too. She just took an aspirin
when she got a headache, so there was no reason that I should have
to go to bed in a dark, quiet room with mine.
It was just never-ending: My hair (too long); my clothes (jeans
instead of skirts); the hobbies that we enjoyed (reading SF was "childish");
our pets (I shouldn't have cats because they made her sneeze, and
dogs should be tied up in the backyard); the names we gave our DDs
(as in NOT named for MIL!); until DH and I were sick to death of it.
I think that if we had lived close enough to them that they could
visit frequently, either DH would have cut her out of his life, or
we would have long since divorced. Fortunately, they always
lived a minimum of a six-hour drive away, and they visited us seldom
because of the pets and my horrible food and housekeeping.
Even the wedding rings we chose together came under attack.
They were "too fancy" because they were white gold and had
a geometric pattern engraved on them. She wanted us to stick
them away in a jewelry box and wear plain gold bands for everyday.
We could wear the fancy ones when we went out on important occasions.
Gee, thanks for the permission, MIL! Too bad we didn't pay any
attention, isn't it?
Signed - We Still Wear
Those Rings Every Day
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- Mamaalanna/Posted:23-APR-11
MIL felt free to have her hissy fits at my house, as well as her own,
about similar inconsequential things. Because we were almost
30 years younger than she was, she knew everything and we knew nothing.
Back in the era before curbside single-stream recycling was common,
our county began a recycling program. You had to take your recyclables
to the landfill and put them in the correct bin. But, it was
a start.
To further this aim, we put 3 large plastic garbage bins on our back
porch. One labeled "glass", one "plastic"
and one "steel". And, we sorted our trash accordingly.
MIL and FIL came down to visit. First, MIL fussed that we didn't
have sheer curtains put up so that "no one can see in".
One of the reasons that I hated visiting her house is that you can't
see out, because of her sheers. Then, she turned her attention
to what she could see out of the windows.
"Why is that bin marked steel? You should have almost nothing
to put in there!"
"We put a fair amount of stuff in there, Mom. Every can
that we open goes in."
She laughed. "You are so stupid. Everybody knows
that cans are made out of tin. That's why they're called TIN
CANS."
"No, Mom. Cans are made out of steel. Some of them
have a thin coating of tin, but they're primarily steel."
"DON'T CONTRADICT ME! THEY'RE CALLED TIN CANS, SO THEY'RE
MADE OUT OF TIN! YOU SHOULDN'T BE RECYCLING, IF YOU DON'T EVEN
KNOW THAT!"
I walked over to the kitchen drawer, pulled out the roll of aluminum
foil, and asked, "Is this 'tinfoil'?"
"Of course." Here she gave us the stinkeye.
Obviously, we were too stupid to be allowed to live.
"Then why does it say 'aluminum'? Is there a huge block
of ice in your icebox keeping things cold? Just because something
was called by a certain term a hundred years ago, that does not mean
that it has anything to do with that term now."
"Hmph. WELL, *I* KNOW BETTER! And, so will you when
your precious recycling center won't take those TIN CANS!"
Signed - I Wish There Was
An Internet Back Then, But She Wouldn't Have Believed That, Either!
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Frequent
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- Mamaalanna/Posted:18-NOV-10
Yet another hissy fit story, although this time it wasn't aimed at
me or DH. As MIL sank deeper into dementia, FIL started taking
over the family finances and paying the bills, as well as doing everything
else around the house. His health started to suffer under the
strain, and his kids finally staged an intervention to insist that
they move into an independent living senior complex. Their meals
and housekeeping would be taken care of, and FIL could leave MIL alone
for an hour or two without worrying that she might try to cook and
burn the house down. We were there to help them move.
DH and I were in the guest bedroom unpacking, and it was pretty clear
that MIL had forgotten that we were there. "Out of sight,
out of mind." She began reaming poor FIL a new one.
He had completely RUINED the checkbook and financial records that
she had been keeping perfectly for over 30 years. If he couldn't
remember how to do it right, she would just take them and do everything
herself, the way she did when he abandoned her to raise 3 kids all
by herself. All in her mind - the only time he "abandoned"
her was when the US Navy sent him off to sea duty! On and on
and on in this vein, until DH came out of the bedroom and pretended
that he hadn't heard a thing. She reverted to company manners
then, and soon forgot about being angry. Oh, and the way that
FIL had "completely ruined" that checkbook? He'd recorded
the date and the amount (about $15), but forgot to note who the check
was written to.
Signed - So That's "Just
the Way Mom Is", Eh?
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Frequent
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- Mamaalanna, 1 of 4 needed/Posted:
28-SEP-10
MIL was always very touchy about things that she interpreted as criticism.
She was free to criticize ME, of course - my hair, my clothes, my
hobbies, my children - you get the idea. And, she would claim
that she was "just trying to help." But, the damnedest
things would set her off. One was "The Affair of the Folding
Chairs": We had gone to visit the ILs for the Thanksgiving
holiday, and to SIL's house for Thanksgiving dinner. MIL and
FIL lived about two blocks from SIL, and brought over their folding
chairs for extra seating. Now, most folding chairs fold the
same way: You lift up the front of the seat to fold it and it
hinges up against the back. MIL's chairs were different.
You pulled up the *back* of the seat, which slid in tracks to flatten
the chair, so that the front of the seat folded down. I'd never
seen anything like them. They were probably made sometime in
the 1940's or 1950's. DH was setting up these chairs in SIL's
dining room, and commented, "I always forget that these chairs
work backwards." I watched him fight with them for a second,
and said, "Yeah, they are backwards, aren't they?" just
as MIL came into the room. Now, I *know* that she had to have
heard DH's comment, as the living room, where she was, is open to
the dining room, with only a half height wall between them.
But, it was *my* throat that she jumped down. "WHO DO YOU
THINK YOU ARE, COMING HERE AND CRITICIZING MY THINGS? WHERE
ARE YOU COMING FROM, THINKING YOUR THINGS ARE SO MUCH BETTER?
YOU'VE GOT NO RIGHT TO CRITICIZE ME LIKE THAT!", and several
more sentences in the same vein. I was standing there, stunned
by this attack that came out of left field. DH tried to calm
her down by pointing out that I was responding to something he said,
which was only the truth, and that I had said nothing about her at
all. She wasn't having any of that, and continued to screech.
And, after 25 years, I had had enough of taking her sh!t to keep the
peace. "DH, I refuse to stand here and be screamed at.
I'm going for a walk before *I* start screaming. When I get
back, your mother either apologizes or I'm getting in the car and
going home. I will not stay with someone who treats me like
sh!t and throws a hissy fit for no reason." Home was an
8 hour drive away, and we were sleeping at the PIL's house.
MIL was still throwing her tantrum when I closed the front door behind
me. I walked around for about 15-20 minutes, and I wish I'd
been a fly on the wall back at SIL's house. Apparently, my defection
was the trigger for EVERYONE else to dump on MIL. DH backed
me and asked FIL for their house keys so that we could get our suitcases.
SIL, BIL, and their spouses told MIL that she has treated me (and
her other DIL) abominably for years, and THEY won't sit back and listen
to it any more. When I got back to the house, I got a very grudging
apology from MIL. If she had been one of my kids, I would have
said, "Try that again, and this time sound like you mean it!"
The "festive" Thanksgiving meal proceeded, but very tensely
on everyone's part. Back at the PIL's house that night, I heard
MIL in their bedroom start to whine about how *I* ruined the holiday,
and FIL cut her off. Even HE sided with me. That was the
last time she pulled this sort of tantrum aimed at me. Whether
DH threatened to walk out permanently if it happened again, I don't
know. MIL started showing definite signs of senile dementia
within the next couple of years, and apparently forgot that she didn't
like me.
Signed - Wish I'd Grown
A Backbone 20 Years Earlier!
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Frequent
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- mamaalanna, 2 of 4 needed/Posted:
29-SEP-10
I don't know how many hissy fits my MIL threw over the years, but
I walked on eggshells every time we visited. There was no telling
what harmless remark would set her off, and her biological family
would just shrug it off with, "That's just the way Mom is."
I'll be posting as I think of them, so they may not be in chronological
order. One of the early ones concerned a Christmas that we spent
with them. I had worked for weeks on a square-dance shirt for
DH. His family's custom was to hand out the gifts until everyone
had a pile by their feet, then all tear into them at once. I
don't remember what I got or gave that year (other than the annual
magazine subscription from FIL/MIL), but I did watch DH to see what
he thought of my gift to him. He liked it, and wore it often
to our dances. Afterwards, I got reamed out by MIL. I
was ungrateful and selfish, it seemed. This was not because
I didn't thank people for the gifts that *I* got, or because I didn't
give nice things, but because I cared about my husband's happiness.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself! You didn't look
at anyone's gifts except the one you gave my son!" *Blink*Blink*.
Um, maybe I would have if you didn't do the massive rip-tear-shred
that was over in 2 minutes?
Signed - Maybe You Could
Open One Gift At A Time?
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Frequent
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- mamaalanna, 3 of 4 needed/Posted:
29-SEP-10
Another hissy fit story: MIL was a very house-proud woman.
Nothing was ever out of place in her house, nothing was used in such
a way that might conceivably make it look used 10 years down the road,
and things were to be used for only a certain designated use.
DH loves (name brand drink). Yes, that powdered fake orange
juice stuff. He's been drinking it for 40 years, at least.
Not my choice, but hey, *I* don't have to drink it. He wants
a 16 ounce glass every morning. When we visit anywhere, we take
some with us. The first morning at MIL's, I asked where the
glasses and the silverware were, and went to make DH's drink.
MIL said, "What do you think you're doing?" I answered,
"Making (DH's name) his (name of drink mix)." MIL
said, almost shrieking now, "But, that's an ICED TEA spoon that
you're using!" I countered (still puzzled, since this was
only our first visit), "Yes." MIL said, "Use
a REGULAR SPOON!!" I tried to explain that this isn't a
workable plan, since to use a regular spoon I'd have to stick my fingers
down into the juice to stir it up in the big glass. MIL hollered,
"THAT DOESN'T MATTER!! YOU ONLY USE THOSE SPOONS FOR ICED
TEA!!!" I brought our own iced tea spoons and a cup on
every visit after that. Yes, cups too. Apparently, the
drink mix somehow "contaminates" the glass and renders it
unsuitable for any other drink.
Signed - Never Once Saw
Her Make ICED TEA!!!!
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Frequent
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- mamaalanna, 4 of 4 needed/Posted:
30-SEP-10
I've mentioned that MIL was house-proud, and
her house was never allowed to look as if people actually lived in
it. It always looked as if she expected the people from a home
magazine to come around every day and photograph it. Once, when
our DDs were about 12 and 9, we came to visit. She thought that
MY children, not being boys, were the most horrible, messy, destructive
children ever. Why, they were so uncontrolled that they looked
at her magazines! And, they colored while sitting at the kitchen
table!!! And, they read books that she didn't approve of!!!!
They tried to be polite, quiet children, but by that age they were
already well aware that GM didn't like them. DH was using an
electric razor at that time. As you probably know, from time
to time the shaved off hairs have to be emptied out of the razor.
While we were at MIL's, the razor became full enough to empty, and
DH did so, into the pristine trash bag in the tiny wastebasket in
MIL's bathroom. There was, maybe, a teaspoon of grayish dust.
About an hour later, MIL came shrieking out of the bathroom and yelled
for my DD, "WHO MADE THE BIG MESS IN MY BATHROOM?!?"
The girls looked at each other, and didn't say anything. "ONE
OF YOU MADE THIS HUGE MESS IN MY BATHROOM!" and she brandished
the offending wastebasket. I said, "Mom, that is NOT a
'huge mess', and neither of the girls did it." MIL asked,
"WELL, WHO THE H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEYSTICKS DID?" And,
yes, that was the word she used! DH stepped in, "Mom, that's
from where I emptied my razor." MIL queried, "What
do you MEAN, emptied your razor? One of THOSE GIRLS made this
mess, and now you're trying to get them off!" I jumped
in, "YOU owe YOUR GRANDDAUGHTERS an apology. There is no
mess. DH emptied his razor IN THE TRASH, where stuff like that
is supposed to go. Would you rather he spread it all over the
floor? The girls had nothing to do with it, AND THERE IS NO
MESS!" DH told her, "Mom, if you accuse my daughters
unjustly again, we will leave and not come back." MIL finished
with, "Humph." And she stormed off to another part
of the house. She never apologized.
Signed - But Her GrandSONS
were Perfect!
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Working Women Don't Have Wives