I married a wonderful man, who, at
the time of our marriage, was 40 years old. After 5 years
of marriage, I gave birth to my DH's only heir, a beautiful, happy
baby boy. We had difficulty conceiving, so DS was the result
of in-vitro-fertilization. Our son is now 5 years old, and
he is still considered "manufactured" by my MIL.
She still is not sure whether DS is DH's child. It hurts so
much.
Signed - Sometimes I
Wish He Wasn't
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What's the difference between
a catfish and a MIL?
One's a scum sucking bottom dweller, and the other one is a fish!
Signed - Catfish Lover!
Per
the poster's request, no responses collected.
Worst gift: Early in
our marriage, I made the mistake of admiring my MIL's kitchen canisters.
Little did I realize that this was all the info that she needed to
go shopping for me. On her next visit, she brought some ceramic
canisters that she had found on sale, a "great deal" at
only $50. Never mind that they were covered with produce in
harvest colors and looked NOTHING LIKE the pure white ones that I
had admired. AND, they weren't a gift. She expected me
to pay for them. Thinking as fast as I could, I said that I
was sorry, but I didn't think that I had room for them in our small
kitchen. The next morning I found her (refusing to take the
hint, as usual) up early and REARRANGING MY KITCHEN to prove that
they would, indeed, fit. Fortunately, I stood my ground, or
I'm sure she that would have spent the next two decades decorating
our entire house, as she was in the habit of doing the same for her
son before he had the audacity to marry me. It almost worked.
I am a freelance commercial illustrator, and I paint a little on the
side. She long has been an amateur painter who dabbles, but
never improves (that would require thinking). As you might imagine,
she's not a bit competitive (grimace). A few Christmases ago,
she made a big deal about giving us a large, really awful painting
that she had done "especially for DH,". It was framed
in an equally hideous wide, bright silver, wood frame made.
She, furthermore, demanded that DH hang it IN THE MAIN ROOM OVER THE
FIREPLACE "instead of that cheap print" [framed, Getty Museum
poster of a Sorolla] that we had there (touche - a shot at my decorating
in the bargain); and said she said that she'd "better not ever
find it in the garage". I keep it in a place of honor -
behind my bedroom door.
Signed - Twenty years of
Holding My Own
RESPONSE: Twenty years of Holding My Own
Good for you. Except that the best way to prevent her from finding
it in the garage would be to dispose of it entirely. Don't get me
wrong, handmade gifts made just for you should be welcome, even if
the artist isn't very good. But blatant attempts at control can and
should be ignored.
Frequent
Fry Her TM
- thorn in MIL's side DIL, 3 of 4 needed/Posted: 21-OCT-03
I've written of DH's mother. Now, let me tell
you of his stepmother. You will like this, as we scored one
against the MIL sector! The PILs divorced when DH was a wee
babe in arms. MIL filed for the divorce, and moved DH and his
older brother to another state. FIL fell for SMIL, and they
married. She had children from her first marriage, one daughter,
I believe. Well, FIL didn't get to see the boys very much due
to work and SMIL, so they grew up without him. When we had been
married for three years, DH was sent to the Midwest for weather school
(I stayed home). On his way north, he stopped off to see his
dad. They had one week together, and loved every minute of it.
DH and I spoke every night. On the fourth night we realized
that SMIL was listening in on the conversation, as FIL was at work.
I growled into the phone that if I ever got my hands on her, I would
deal with her, especially since I was paying for each phone call between
DH and me. She hung up the extension very quickly, and never
listened to us again (don't eavesdrop on me!). Once DH was through
with school, the Navy sent us to two European countries. For
years, we wrote letters, postcards, and sent gifts. We didn't
hear anything in return. After a while, DH simply stopped.
Fast forward ten years. DH had survived his cancer, and was
coming up on 20 years in the Navy. We were looking forward to
his retirement, and to coming back to the states. DH and I spoke
about him contacting his dad again. With DH's consent, I wrote
two letters to FIL telling him that we would like to make room for
him in our lives. We got no answer. A year after the last
letter, SMIL (who was on good terms with us at the time) heard from
FIL's sister that he was in the hospital with heart problems.
The sister told us that FIL had never gotten any letters, and that
we'd never answered his! We never ever got a single letter from
this man! We realized that SMIL was intercepting the mail.
I called the hospital every evening and checked on his condition.
One night SMIL answered. She figured out that I was the author
of the letters from a year ago, and ranted about how he knew the letters
would hurt her, so he hid them from her. But, she said that
it was okay, as we were family, and family forgives family.
I informed her we were not family, as I didn't recognize a liar and
sneak. I then told her that I would pray for her. She
then proceeded to tell me that I was going to he!! because of my religious
affiliation. And, she said that following her religion is the
only way to get to heaven. Finally, I wished her a good evening,
and then I hung up on her in mid sentence. As FIL lived in the
same town as one of our very close friends, we asked her if she could
check up on him in person. Our friend went to the hospital with
a plant and a helium filled balloon. She and FIL talked for
almost an hour, and she said that he wept when she told how we've
been, about DHs cancer, and that we had written and sent gifts.
She also told him that DH loved him, wasn't angry at him, and hoped
to see him soon. She phoned us in tears from her car, telling
us that if DH ever wanted to see FIL again, we'd better come now,
as he looked terrible. We knew the his heart was bad, but not
that bad. We showed up two weeks later, after FIL had been moved
into a nursing home. As SMIL has a mental problem that has her
sleeping through the day and staying up all night (this info courtesy
of FIL's sister), we had the day to spend with FIL. I wish that
you could have seen his face. This man, who was in bed with
horrible bedsores on the heels of his feet, was so depressed!
But when we walked in, he sat up and wept tears of joy. It was
so fantastic! I ran to a drugstore and picked up a one use camera.
We got some great pictures. And, as we'd had an extra 8x10 of
us at the Navy Ball, we brought it for his bedside table. Let
me tell you, this was the best trip that we'd ever taken. Finally,
FIL was tired out, and, as DH only had a few days off from work, we
needed to leave. On the way out we stopped at the nurse's desk.
As I was talking to the supervisor, a woman walked up behind DH and
started poking him in the back. He ignored her, so she stepped
around into my line of vision, smiling. I gave her a dirty look,
wrapped up my conversation, and we left, WITHOUT SAYING ONE SINGLE
WORD TO SMIL!!!!! That was on a Saturday. On the following
Tuesday FIL had a major heart attack and died. SMIL is all alone
now, as her only daughter died of a neglected infected, impacted tooth!
His sister was with him, and she said that he died happily, knowing
that at least one of his sons loved him (another story, another day).
He had stared at the photo of us as much as he could, prior to his
death, and as we had told FIL's sister to take it when FIL went, she
now has it. We've not heard from SMIL. And, thanks to
the stupidity of MIL, we've not heard from DH's aunt. So, for
all those who want to have the last word with a MIL, you can share
in the glory of my victory. Peace.
Signed - Share In The Glory
Of My Victory
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