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Evil Daughter In Law

It Isn't Easy Being Evil

The Time I Almost Used The Wrong Glass Cleaner

A few weeks into living with the in laws, we started doing the chores that were asked of us.

Now I don’t mind doing chores, as a matter of fact I frequently like to make myself useful at the homes of friends or family members who have graciously extended their home to us. What I do not like it’s being asked or even told to do one thing and then being frequently interrupted to be told something that contradicts what I was told in the first place. For example mother-in-law told me to clean the kitchen after every use, to keep the guest bathroom clean, and to use the dust mop on the hardwood floors.

Taking those directions into account, I got up early on a Saturday morning to make breakfast for myself in my son and then begin my chores. I washed the pan and plates that I used I wiped down the counter tops and the table with a glass cleaner which is mother-in-law’s favorite and only product for cleaning. I swiftly moved along with glass cleaner and paper towels in hand throughout the house and just as I was headed to the guest bathroom I see MIL out of the corner of my eye coming at me like I’d stolen something.

She had chased me through the house only to abruptly snatch the glass cleaner and roll of paper towels from me.

Her reasoning: I needn’t take those out of the room from which they BELONG, as each room has its own supply of glass cleaner and paper towels.

A little in shock and slightly perturbed that someone would be so particular about which roll of paper towels could be used in what room, I proceeded to tackle the rest of my chores determined to get it right.

Wrong.

I used the wrong toilet brush to scrub the toilet. There were two. Neither were labeled, both were plain white toilet scrubbers, and apparently I was supposed to guess that one was used to scrub the tub.

Next, I vacuumed a rug that should have been taken outside and shaken.

Then I dusted the wood surfaces with wood furniture polish and a dust rag. This too was wrong as sometimes the furniture polish leaves a sticky residue. I should have known.

When I finally got around to doing the floors, she changed her mind three times while I was dust-mopping, as to whether or not she wanted the floors dry mopped, mopped with the furniture polish at the risk of a supposed sticky residue, or cleaned with the above mentioned and highly favored glass cleaner.

It took me twice as long as it should have for me to get all of the chores done that day and the next few times as well. Clearly I’m a slow learner.

Needless to say, I now clean exclusively when MIL is out of the house, in the shower, or in any other way indisposed.

That Time I Took MY Son on an Hours Long Train Ride for No Apparent Reason

So, living far away from my side of the family sucks, but it is a sacrifice that I am making for the time being so that Hubby and I can work well-paying jobs to save some money to eventually buy a house.

Since MIL did not have a close relationship with her family growing up, she clearly does not understand why I talk to my mother daily, and why I am in constant text contact with my many siblings. 

Since she is painfully unaware of the fact that her attitude and demeanor are woefully off-putting, she also does not understand that sometimes people need a break from her.

Thus, on one Thanksgiving eve, after I’d spent the day battling the tail end of a cold,  eaten a small dinner with the in laws, and accompanied them to have dessert (where I mingled while MIL barely spoke to anyone), I decided that I needed a trip to see my family. 

I wanted to spend the rest of the weekend around people who were loving and kind. I wanted my son to interact with my family as I feared that he would start a phase that some babies go through in which they fear people they do not recognize. As he would see very little of my family now that we were living with MIL and FIL (several hours away from my family), I wanted to take advantage of the holiday weekend.

I texted Hubby, who would rather I take the train with our 7 month old, than battle Thanksgiving weekend traffic for 5 hours. He agreed to drive me to the train station in the morning.

Since we had to be out of the house before 8am, and MIL does not wake up that early, we left without telling her. 

Che the crazy.

When she finally did wake up from her 10+ hours of slumber, I received a text storm. It was her usual gripes on another level. Only this time she got FIL in on the DIL-is-evil train.

I was rude, rash, not a good person, had made MIL cry (how could I be so mean?), and most importantly, I had taken my son on an hours-long train ride for No Apparent Reason. 

So basically, my family was no longer important and I need not visit them until I could magically poof myself to their city and avoid the long travel with my son?

What really topped this ‘cray cake’ (yes, I said cray), was that MIL went so far as to text MY mom to tell her of my rudeness. Aside from being beyond shocked at this woman’s audacity, I was a bit miffed by the idea that MIL tattled to my mom a la Seth Rogan in The Neighbors 2.

Here’s the kicker folks, when asked why MIL texted my mom and what she hoped to get out of the interaction seeing as how my mother was not going to spank me, she simply replied “well somebody needs to.”

It Wasn’t Always This Way

My story did not start off with me having the Monster In Law that some people are cursed with. I met my husband’s mother when he and I were dating and while I knew right away that she could be pushy at times, I felt that I had been one of the lucky ones blessed with sane, loving, welcoming in laws who treated me as they did their own child.

Though I cannot pinpoint the moment when this all changed, I can say that the several people who told me that grandchildren change people, were oh so right in saying that, but oh so wrong for not warning me of the crazy that would be unleashed.

Earlier this year my husband and I had a son, effectively giving both his parents and mine, their first grandchild. Then, much to my chagrin, MIL decided that it would be best for everyone involved, namely her, that my husband and I should move in with them so that she could watch our 4 month old when I went back to work.

Hubby and I decided to pass up this opportunity and I breathed a sigh of relief thinking I’d dodged that bullet. (I know, I know, underestimating the MIL is a rookie mistake.) Little did I know, that MIL had tricks up her sleeves.

She had her people (my father in law), call my people (my husband), and the next thing I know, I am packing up our apartment, dog, baby, and freedom. We moved most of our life into storage, waved goodbye to a nice city, and moved a small allotment of personal items into a room in my MIL’s house in Podunk, CA.

Cue the crazy.

In the half a year since my son made his grand entrance, and even less time since we have been staying with my in laws, I have been called, among other things:

LAZY (for falling asleep on my day off while breastfeeding my son and not offering to help cook dinner, while battling a cold mind you)

RUDE / RASH / IMMATURE (for making a last minute decision to take my son on a 7 hour train ride to visit my family as opposed to driving for almost as long in traffic)

NOT NORMAL (for not being able to work 40+hours a week, commute 10+ hours a week, wake up for nighttime feedings with my son, accept being talked down to, and still be able to have ‘handle the responsibilities’ of being part of the family)

DISRESPECTFUL (for being of any opinion that is not in complete agreement with my M.I.L.)

MEAN (for calling my MIL’s dog “dog”, while pushing her away from my son because said dog is a puppy who has previously jumped on, scratched, and stepped on my son)

Now, had I been a mind reader and known beforehand that I would cause such offense with my seemingly normal actions, I might have changed the way I acted or said things. Or, I might have had the sense to use all of my power to talk my husband out of moving in with them.

For now however, I am stuck. It would seem that I am at the mercy of a spoiled 50-something woman who has apparently never been told that in life she does not get to make every single rule and that her behavior is nothing short of intolerable. I am constantly reminded that I am a foreigner in this house as “This is my house” has been shouted at me on more than one occasion.

Yet and still, I will prevail. If only to write this blog and provide hope for all of the other evil daughter in laws out there.

Moral of this story:

DO NOT MOVE IN WITH YOUR IN LAWS – no matter how great you believe your relationship with them to be. Or, at the very least, expect there to be many trials and tribulations when you do move in, and prepare for the worst type of battles to fight. The ones where you ALWAYS have to be the more mature person, ALWAYS have to turn the other cheek, and ALWAYS have to use a mixture of prayer and patience to get through.

 

Open Letter to my Mother In Law

To the woman that I will call Mother in Law for the rest of her earthly life:

I found it interesting that in recent conversations with your peers, the least mean things that they had to say about you was that you are a “jerkface”, a “horrible person”, have a character that is “a little bit ugly” and “will end up alone”.

I, on the other hand, have loved you, I have liked you. I have even convinced your son to visit you when he was adamant about not seeing you. I have excused your shortcomings and ill temperament as a lack of awareness in the way you make people feel. I have graciously allowed you to take care of my child because you’d be hurt if I had made any other arrangement. I have attended your church, I have been friendly to your family and acquaintances. I have loved your mother as if she were my own grandmother. I have prayed for you. I have silenced my opinions simply to spare your feelings. Most recently, I sat back as you manipulated your way into getting my husband to agree to live with you. Or should I say, I graciously accepted your ‘opening of your home’ to us.

To what end?

So that you can consistently malign me, talk down to me, disrespect me, disrespect my husband (your son), spank my child without my permission, make me feel most unwelcome in your home, attack my parenting, roll your eyes at me, yell at me, smack your lips at me, throw Christian principles at me (while displaying the exact opposite yourself), and be completely dismissive of anything I have to say that does not expressly align with your narcissistic, self-centered point of view?

You madam are a bully. You are the most manipulative, selfish, toxic person to be around. You are a horrible mother, and I do not say that lightly. You constantly harangue and demean your son. You claim to want to be a mother to us both and yet you do everything in your power to make us keenly aware that we are unwelcome guests in your home. I take solace in knowing that the rest of the family with our surname feels the same way about you.

Though I am sure you’d like to think that you are some sort of fantabulous Christian, you are not. You are just as much a sinner as the rest of us and I would add that I truly hope that all the church you go to makes you feel better about the abhorrent person you are on the inside.

Your callous disregard for anyone other than yourself or your faithful servant husband knows no bounds. What sort of mother and grandmother throws a tantrum because her children asked her not to spank their child? What sort of mother subsequently agrees that daycare would be best for the child only to recant 5 minutes later, effectively evict and insult both their son and daughter in law in a profane way?

What sort of person then attempts to apologize for such terrible, childish behavior by stating that two parties no longer need to be nice to each other since one will soon be moving out? You guessed it, a lunatic. I beg you to look in the mirror and you will find such a lunatic.

If you think for one second that you can come and cry to my face in a fake apology for insulting both myself and your son once again, you are sorely mistaken. I do not, and will not accept your apology until you are well enough to actually understand the fact that it is unacceptable for an adult to have crying fits and hurl insults anytime her family members do not agree with her. It is a behavior that perhaps requires medication.

I will tell you that my choice to find a daycare for my child, and to effectively be placing my child’s wellbeing in the hands of a complete stranger, is a direct result of your childish behavior and apparent lack of ability to respect my husband and I as parents.

You are neither emotionally stable enough nor are you mentally well enough to continue to provide adequate care for my son. If you were, you wouldn’t need to smack him and manhandle him in such a way that increases his irritability and causes him to hit and threaten to hit others without provocation.

So regardless of how much you cry, yell, insult us. Or how much you justify your actions by claiming hurt feelings, you will no longer be a caregiver for my son.

That being said, I urge to take a good hard look at your behavior toward everyone around you and truly ask yourself why no one visits you, why your children don’t want to see you, and why your family might have nothing but harsh comments to say about you. This way you might not end up alone one day, and dependent on the person who you were the meanest to, and coincidentally, the only person who will advocate for you not to be placed in a nursing home in Russia, me.

 

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