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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
Suffering Daughter
Age: 22 MIL Age: 50
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 31-MAR-11
Christmas 2004. DM has never been shy for playing favorites
with her children. She bought my brother and me a computer surge
protector and a desk fan each. That was the most pathetic Christmas
morning I have ever experienced.
It gets better. She moved the computer my brother and I shared
(a $2000 top-of-the-line model) and the desk (a very expensive desk
bought specifically for the computer) to my brother's room.
She, then, bought me my own computer (can't be seen to be playing
favorites, y'know). It was a $150 secondhand ex-boy's high school
computer with a huge dent in the side. It ran Windows '95.
I also got a $40 desk, which I had to put together myself. She,
later, had the audacity to get angry at me because my grades were
slipping. Apparently, I should be able to complete all my schoolwork
with a 10 year old computer that doesn't have the internet or any
office software. I did it all using out-of-date encyclopedias
and notepad. Sigh.
Signed - I Can't Win!
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 5-MAR-11
I was a bridesmaid in a wedding this past weekend. I've mentioned
it previously in my "Wedding Saga" story. It went
beautifully! My brother showed up. Everyone was on time
and looked beautiful. So, why am I writing this?
I need your advice.
At the photos, post-ceremony, there was another couple and their wedding
party also taking photos on the grounds. They looked beautiful,
happy, and they were obviously having a great time posing for the
camera. Unfortunately, they will probably never forget my brother
yelling, "Don't move! Them (racial slur) can only see you
when you move!" I freaked out, and told him that if he
couldn't behave like a human being, he could sit in the corner like
a dog, and not talk to anyone. I felt so awful for the couple!
What an awful thing to say on someone's wedding day!
But, it gets better. Mum was supposed to give me a lift home
after the wedding, as I'd had too much to drink. As soon as
I mentioned to Mum that my BF would be waiting for me, as he was working
right around the corner from where I live, and he stays with me once
a week after his 1 AM finish, my brother went off and started yelling,
"My own sister is f***ing a f***ing (racial slur)."
Oh my Lord. Luckily, the bride and groom had left!
At this point, Mum decided it was appropriate to mention that my ex-BF
was a much better choice for me. Why? Because he's a jobless
loser? Because he doesn't wash, cook or clean? Because
he does nothing but play video games all day? Or, because he
was of an ethnic background they approve of? I should give him
a call. My Step-dad (God love him) grabbed one idiot in each
hand and dragged them out. He came back, hugged me, and apologized
for their idiocy. He stated that as long as I was happy, he
didn't care what I did. I'm an adult. I ended up getting
a lift home with GP and his wife. They're lovely, sweet, and
really don't care about who I'm seeing.
I'm at the point where I want to cut the idiots off. I feel
bad because I can't see any way to cut off the racist part without
offending and/or cutting off the nice part. I feel this will
get a lot worse, if we decide to get married or have children.
Does anyone have any advice on how to do this? Should I try
to talk to them first? Step-dad and I took Mum to counseling,
and the only advice the counselor had was, "RUN!".
So, it really is that bad. Please help me. I don't want
to lose my BF over this.
Signed - I Feel So Helpless
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 27-JAN-11
I recently went to a wedding shower (Bridal
Shower? Kitchen Tea?) for my aunt. I knew that she had invited
my grandma, my other aunt and my mother. My uncle is from a
reasonably small family, while hers is large and she has a lot of
friends. So, the only people I knew were my family, the bride,
and the other bridesmaids.
I was making an effort to get to know all the other ladies there.
I'm a reasonably bubbly and outgoing person, and I'm going to be seeing
them again at the wedding soon, so I may as well get to know them!
I was chatting to one lovely lady about weight loss, and mentioned
that I'd lost 5 kilos due to a health condition that has recently
been diagnosed. It's beyond my control. I have a food
allergy, and it causes all sorts of problems, including messing with
my thyroid and metabolism. I put on weight very easily, but
it's hard for me to lose weight. I was so proud of myself!
Unfortunately, I was standing too close to "Mummy Dearest",
and she overheard me. In front of everyone, she turned around
(note, she only has two volumes - loud and louder) and said, "Wow!
I'm so proud of you!" Great, right? Here's the kicker:
Her next words were, "If you lose five more, you'll be beautiful!"
AARGH! My response was, "I'm already beautiful, Mum,"
and I turned my back on her. She still hasn't figured out why
I'm mad at her.
Signed - Damsel In Distress
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 26-JAN-11
When we were kids, my brother and I were exceptionally
badly-behaved children. My brother, being the favorite, was
allowed to do anything and everything that he wanted to without consequence.
Obviously, leaving a child without rules, and failing to discipline
them, means that they will be badly behaved.
Unfortunately, I copped all the anger and frustration and punishments
that should have been dealt out to my brother. I'm only a girl;
why should my feelings matter?
So, I went in the opposite direction, and began rebelling so that
I could feel that I actually deserved to be punished, as opposed to
being punished for being good.
One day, after a visit from the police, where my brother was arrested
for stealing a pushbike, my mother snapped and began beating me with
the wooden spoon. My brother, in a moment of insanity (or was
it clarity?), yelled, "What are you hitting SufferingDaughter
for? Hit me!" He pointed his bottom straight at Mum.
Mum lost it - how DARE he stand up for his sister - and belted him
so hard with the spoon that it snapped.
This wasn't enough for her. She then ripped the iron out of
the wall, and proceeded to belt both of us with the sharply pointed
plug end. She didn't just use the cord, but the actual plug.
She didn't stop until we were both crying and bleeding. All
I can say now is, thank goodness she didn't use the iron end.
Signed - Feeling Low? Here,
Have Some Iron
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 25-JAN-11
My mother once called me at work and screamed
at me so loudly that people I've never met, who work in the next department,
came around to make sure everyone was OK. When I told her to
stop yelling, she positively screamed, "I'm NOT YELLING!!!"
Of course, everyone heard her, and they were laughing so hard that
they couldn't stay upright. I was holding the phone about a
meter away from my ear, and could still hear her clearly. At
least my coworkers now know that nothing I've said about her has been
exaggerated.
Signed - I'm Not Yelling,
I'm Pretending To Be An Air Horn
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 22-JAN-11
I figured that, since I was already telling stories about my scars,
I'll explain the one on my knee that is shaped exactly like Australia.
It's great for pointing out to foreigners where Sydney is. All
I have to do is roll up my pants leg! Sorry, I'm just trying
to look on the bright side.
Well, my idiot of a brother and I were having a fight one day.
I can't even remember what the fight was about. It was around
the 2000 Sydney Olympics, as I have a photo of a friend and me at
one of the events sporting my injuries. During the fight, my
brother stepped out of the house, and I took the opportunity to lock
him outside, as he had been hitting me, pulling my hair, and threatening
to kill me. It was not a hot day, and he had access to water
and a bathroom in the garage, so I didn't feel too bad for him.
Time passed, we calmed down, and Mum came home from work and let him
into the house.
The next day, a similar thing happened, where he started hitting me
and pulling my hair. I called my friend and asked if she wanted
to hang out. Then, I hopped onto my bike and rode off down the
driveway. The driveway is a long, black gravel driveway that
is extremely steep. I hit the brakes and nothing happened.
My brother had cut the brake cord to both sets of brakes and not bothered
to tell anyone. I picked up speed, hit the bottom of the driveway,
made it across the road without being hit by a car (thank goodness)
and hit the gutter on the other side. I came off my bike and
landed on my neighbor's driveway. My brother realized what had
happened. He then called his friends and they CAME AND LAUGHED
AT ME as I lay on the driveway with all the skin ripped off both my
arms, legs and half my face. My glasses had smashed and the
bike was totaled.
The neighbor came running out and helped me into the house.
He brought my bike in and then called my mum to come home. Mum
finished her shift, and strolled in four hours later. I was
sitting on the bathroom floor, crying and covered in blood.
She proceeded to yell at me for locking my brother out, and told me
that I got what I deserved. She added that I should stop being
such a girl. That was the point when I realized that, as long
as I was a girl, I would NEVER be as good as my brother, no matter
what I did with my life. She put some bandages over my grazes
and sent me to my room.
Three weeks later, as you can imagine, said injuries were very nicely
infected, sore, oozing, and still bleeding considerably. I could
barely move my arms and couldn't walk properly. My face looked
like something out of Saw. I ended up visiting my dad (I'm not
sure how, as neither parent has spoken to the other for 15 years)
and my step-mum (God love that woman, she's absolutely the most wonderful
person I have ever met) took one look at me and practically burst
into tears. She spent probably an hour or more cleaning my grazes,
sterilizing them, and putting Mercurochrome on them. Within
two days they started healing. Unfortunately, because of the
delay between my injuries and having them treated, the scarring was
noticeable. Even now, 10 years later, you can see the line in
my skin where the color darkens from the scarring. But, Mum
still blames my step-mum for "trying to fix me", "trying
to make her look like a bad mother", and "causing my scarring"
by putting Mercurochrome on me! Gah!
Signed - Mercurochrome
Madness
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 21-JAN-11
I'm rather enjoying typing up all these stories,
as it's quite therapeutic for me. It's even better than the
counseling sessions that Mum forced me into as a tween, because the
counselor was a friend of my mum's and refused to accept that Mum
was the problem!
Well, it's been a few years since then, and my 21st Birthday rolled
around. I'd recently bought my first home, a tiny apartment
(that's another story entirely) and was in the process of furnishing
it. I wasn't planning on celebrating very much, but I ended
up having a party with a group from work, which was quite a fun night.
I had a party with my dad's family, which was a very nice sophisticated
lunch, even though half the invitations got lost in the mail and I
had to verbally invite everyone (one of the invites showed up at my
uncle's place two weeks before my 22nd birthday).
And, I had Mum's party. It was, literally, my mum's party.
She invited her entire family, and all her friends. People who
had been at her 21st birthday party, nearly 30 years before, were
invited to my party. I only knew about 6 people there.
My only requests were no baby photos and no games. She not only
had games - yes, several - but my cake had a giant photo of me as
a baby! Although I do admit that I got a lot of pleasure out
of eating my own face, it still pissed me off!
None of the invitations were right, because she sent me the names/addresses
in her native language, which I barely understand, and none of the
various people were matched into partners/families. Then, she
sent her own invitations to everyone anyway! Nobody got thank-you
notes, because I gave up trying to figure out who lived where and
who was related. I just thanked everyone verbally.
At the end of the party she got out the video camera and made me open
my presents, while taping me in front of everyone. Half the
cards were in her native language and I can't read it! She kept
trying to make me read out the cards, and you can hear me on the video
get crankier and crankier. I repeated, "I can't read it,
I can't read it, I can't READ IT!!!" Everyone was very
generous, and I am very grateful, as it helped me to paint and furnish
my new apartment. Grandpa gave me a fridge, Nan bought me a
microwave, other people gave me a knife set, cookware, plates, and
an electric blanket. Of course, at the end Mum presented me
with a generous check to go towards my apartment. I'm not going
to tell you that she took it away after everyone left, because she
didn't. But, I found out last night that she is giving my drug
addicted, alcoholic, unemployed loser of a brother twice that amount
for his 21st! I can't win.
Signed - I Was Meant To
Be A Boy!
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter/Posted: 21-JAN-11
I went to visit my nan the other day, and we started talking about
Mum and all the odd things she's done over the years. My nan
tells me stories about my Mum that make me laugh and cry at the same
time.
She reminded me of when I was approximately 6 and my brother was about
5, and we were at Nan's place, playing with some toys. I was
holding something that my brother wanted, so he snatched it from me.
I grabbed it back, as children do. He grabbed my hair and ripped
a huge chunk of it out, taking some of my skin.
Nan got up and belted my brother across the backside with the plastic
handle of the feather duster. Note: This was almost 20
years ago, and Nan is a big believer in spanking her children.
She had four, and they're all lovely people. Well, she belted
my brother a good one.
Mum walked in and screamed at Nan for smacking her precious son!
She wasn't interested in checking to make sure that I was OK, even
though I was bleeding and crying, because her precious baby boy had
a sore bottom.
Nan refused to baby-sit for my brother after that. My hair never
grew back properly, and it's still very thin and a different color
in that spot.
On another note, I have a visible scar on my shoulder that is the
exact size and shape of my brother's teeth, when he was four.
Explain that one, b!tch!
Signed - Baldy-locks
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter, 1 of 4 needed/Posted:
5-JAN-11
I went to visit my family for dinner last night. Thank God I
only have to do this once or twice a year. They're NUTS!
Being in public at an up-market restaurant has NO meaning for these
people. Time and space seem to just melt away when they want
to pick a fight. AARGH! I don't even know where to start!
We were celebrating our Christmas, so the family met up at a nice
restaurant for dinner. I can't take my BF, due to the deep-seated
racism in my brother and mother. So, as you can probably imagine,
I don't like these gatherings because it usually involves my brother
threatening to follow me home and beat the sh!t out of my BF.
Charming.
But, no, this time they decided to pick on people with disabilities
(deaf, paraplegia, elderly, etc.,) instead of people who are of a
different color than us. I am close friends with someone who
is deaf, so you can imagine that I was NOT happy. Then, the
fighting started. Apparently, my brother spoke to GP about something,
and GP only got half of the story. So, he confronted my mum
about it. Mum yelled at GP. Brother then yelled at Mum.
Step-dad yelled at brother for yelling at Mum. So GP yelled
at Step-dad. I changed the subject and they ALL yelled at me.
Whatever!
Then, we got onto the subject of children and dummies (pacifiers),
and what is the right age to take the dummy away. Grandpa asked
me how old I was when they took my dummy away. 7 months, I answered
. Yep, you read that right. Mum put my bottles and dummies
on to sterilize, and then went and had a nap (this is a long-standing
issue with her). She burned the lot. So, I didn't have
a dummy. Instead, I sucked my thumb up until the age of 17.
Note: I quit this 6 years ago, but Mum still takes EVERY opportunity
to make fun of me. Hello, YOU were negligent and YOU burned
my dummy! I still have separation anxiety when it comes to certain
things because of this! This is the third time that she has
done this to me in the middle of a restaurant! And, she only
has two volumes - loud and louder, so everybody within the vicinity
heard her.
Then, my brother took the opportunity to make fun of the size of my
chest, my cats (DK and DK2, the sweetest and most loving cats EVER
- you DO NOT make fun of my cats), my car (he lost his license for
drinking and driving), etc. While trying to control my anger,
I accidentally knocked over a cup of coffee, and they all decided
to pick on that, too! I gave up, and handed everyone their presents.
Then, I started to leave. DM screamed at me that we weren't
doing Christmas yet. WTF? It's CHRISTMAS DAY! I
told her to go see a taxidermist (Dad's favorite line from their very
messy divorce, and I know it hurts her, because I look like him and
even sound like him when I say it), and walked out.
Unfortunately, her 50th birthday is coming up in two months, and I
have to see her again. I'm going to spend the night hiding behind
my very sympathetic Aunt, and avoiding talking to anyone who might
want to scream to half the suburb that I used to suck my thumb.
I hate my family. *Whimper*.
Signed - Can't Wait Until
She Kicks The Proverbial Bucket
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Frequent
Fry Her TM.
- SufferingDaughter, 2 of 4 needed/Posted:
8-JAN-11
The Wedding Saga: This one is a little difficult to explain
without some background. My brother is 2 years younger than
me, and recently lost his license for drunk driving. He almost
ended up in jail, but thanks to my GP's love, patience and connections
with lots of very smart people, he managed to get my brother off with
community service, alcohol rehab, and a driving ban. You think
he'd be grateful. Nope! He accused the family of trying
to force him to be someone who he is not, and treating him like cr@p.
He screamed at GP (note that Grandpa spent $10,000 keeping his only
GS out of jail) and said that he wasn't going to be in the wedding.
My aunt and uncle are getting married soon, and had asked him to be
a groomsman, paired up with me as a bridesmaid. All anyone talked
about for months was how to get my brother back into the wedding.
I told them that I was happy to stand down, but they wouldn't hear
of it. So, I told them I'd walk down on my own. Mum screamed
at me that I was a horrible person and that I was trying to ruin the
wedding! They can't have unmatched sides in the wedding party!
How dare I suggest that? I screamed back that they could put
a pig in a suit and nobody would ever know that it wasn't my brother.
All he!! broke loose! Mum ripped into me for being a b!tch,
a whore, an addict (I don't drink, I have never smoked a cigarette
or done any drugs, EVER - apparently she was referring to me sucking
my thumb until I was 17!) and various other nasty things. She
said that I was completely worthless and that nobody will ever love
me or marry me because I'd be a horrible wife and mother (projecting,
much?).
She also called me a b!tch because my piercings were going to ruin
the wedding photos (I had them done long before my uncle even met
my future aunt!) and said that I'm selfish and hateful because of
it (I've already spoken to future aunt and we've organized what I'm
going to do with them for the wedding - take them out for the church
and the photos and put them back in for the reception).
Step-dad took my side and told Mum to stop being so nasty to me, because
I was just trying to help. She broke up with him and screamed
at him for trying to ruin the wedding, too! It's not even her
wedding, it's her brother's! Step-dad ended up stepping down
as a groomsman, too. So, now they were two people short on one
side. Uncle managed to get a friend to replace Step-dad.
Then Mum and Step-dad got back together! But, they couldn't
put him back in the wedding party because they had already replaced
him, and they were hoping my brother would come to his senses.
He did, to an extent - after falling over while drunk and hurting
himself seriously, he swore to never drink again (he only drinks beer
now, not spirits, so apparently that classifies as not drinking).
He's back in the wedding party. I'm going to have a great night.
I get to baby-sit him for the ENTIRE wedding and make sure he behaves.
I'm still rooting for the pig.
Signed - I Really Hope
Mum's Insanity Isn't Genetic!
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Frequent
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- SufferingDaughter, 3 of 4 needed/Posted:
10-JAN-11
The Cat Saga: I've always had a soft spot for kittens.
Amazingly, my mum was never allergic to cats until I brought home
a kitten that I'd found when I was young. Well, when I bought
my apartment, she was always calling me to make sure I was paying
my bills, popping in to complain about the color scheme, going through
my stuff and generally annoying the poop out of me.
I finally cracked, after a big fight with my BF, and went down to
the RSPCA to buy a cat. I'd been thinking and looking for some
time, and had decided I wanted a full grown black cat, that I would
love forever. When I arrived, the cat that I had fallen in love
with on their website had been adopted out that morning, so I ended
up just wandering around aimlessly. I found a beautiful tortoiseshell
kitten that I decided to bring home with me.
Well, Mum popped in, a few days later, and kept complaining about
her hayfever. I explained that I'd bought a kitten, and she
told me to get rid of it. I told her to get out of my house.
I'm paying for the mortgage and the cat, and she has no right to tell
me what to do. She grounded me and left. LOL. Because
I'm TOTALLY going to adhere to the rules of "being grounded"
at the age of 20, in my own home.
After many fights, and her complaining about the cat, I figured that
if I got a second cat, she'd never be able to "pop in" without
having an allergic reaction again. I brought home another kitten,
and I was right - not only did the cats destroy everything, but Mum
had an allergic reaction and nearly ended up in a hospital.
I felt bad, but now she just tries to meddle from a distance.
And, my cats are beautiful, affectionate and everything I ever wanted
in a family. I love happy endings! But stay tuned for
more insanity.
Signed - My Cat Is Soooo
Much Cooler Than Your Allergies
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Frequent
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- SufferingDaughter, 4 of 4 needed/Posted:
20-JAN-11
The Apartment Saga. Where to begin? I moved out of Mum's
place at 15 because she told me to get out. To this day, she
maintains that she meant, "Get out of the room," but I know
she wanted me to get out of the house. I moved in with my nan
(I will love her forever, she is my best friend). I stayed there
for 5 years, until I turned 20. Then, I started looking for
my own place. I love my nan, but I really wanted my independence,
and to start building a life for myself.
I spoke to my step-mum (smartest person I know) about looking at buying
an apartment and all the other stuff that goes with it. She
spoke to Dad, who told my brother, who told Mum, who decided to get
involved. Aargh! There is a reason that I didn't ask her
for advice!
She decided that, since her brother was struggling with paying the
mortgage on his apartment after his GF left, I should buy half the
apartment from him. "But, wait," I hear you ask, "Why
would you want to share an apartment with your Uncle?"
Well, my friend, the idea was for me to buy half the apartment, pay
half the mortgage, half the utilities and half the strata payments,
and continue to live with my nan and pay rent and utilities there,
too! WTF is WRONG with this woman? AARGH!
I ended up finding a lovely little apartment, not far from my nan's
place. It's affordable and small, but most importantly, I can
live there and not have to worry about baby-sitting my uncle!
But, of course, as soon as I moved in, the cat saga started.
Stay tuned!
Signed - 20 Y.O. Homeowner
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Working Women Don't Have Wives