Changing locks, name, ph #, donning wig

iVillage Member
Registered: 12-29-2006
Changing locks, name, ph #, donning wig
6
Mon, 01-01-2007 - 8:37pm

This woman is going to drive me to the nuthouse, I swear. My husband’s been away for 4 days, during which my MIL has, of course, been calling me incessantly to “check in.” I called her back once, and in a perfectly cordial manner explained that, no, I won’t be coming up, I’m taking a break FROM FAMILY MEMBERS and just relaxing while my husband is away. If I do need anything, yes I’ll let you know, thank you. All subsequent phone calls ignored.

Returns my husband. Noon the next day (New Year’s Eve), he announces that “we have to go up to my parents for lunch at 1.” We sit down, we have “the talk.” Look, your parents are driving me insane and I will have a break from them for a minimum of a week. Every time they call me/us incessantly, demand that we come to their house or show up at ours, the clock starts over. OK, he agrees. But, he’s been away for 4 days, is leaving again the 2nd and will be gone most of January. It is New Year’s Eve, let’s just go up for lunch on account of the occasion and he won’t be able to see them for a while. OK, fine… I will go, but am coming home right after lunch. He can stay BY HIMSELF as long as he wants.

Once there, he decides to come back with me after lunch. As we’re walking out the door, I hear my MIL say, “I’m going to 5 o’clock mass. I’ll stop by afterwards.” Her church is a block away from our house. I cringe, however, not wanting to make an unsupported scene, take it up with my husband in the car. Just exactly what part of I need a friggin break from your lunatic demanding pathetic clingy mother do you not understand? Oh, he didn’t even think about it (of course not, she comes over every day, why would he think about it?). OK, we’ve agreed, she won’t be stopping by. He’ll let her know we have dinner plans.

She shows up at 6:30 anyway. She “forgot.” OK, she does in fact have memory issues – not Alzheimer’s – but related to age. So, I’m here to remind her. We are going to dinner, please get out of my house. Oh, she’ll just come along! Husband looks at me with that, “uh-oh, what do I do now” expression. I look back with that “I’m going to kill you both” expression. She goes with us to dinner. She buys dinner.

Dropping her off at her house, husband says, “So, we’ll swing by around 11:30 to ring in the new year.” I tell him to have a great time, I’ll be at home, MY HOME, with his friends that he invited over, in case he doesn’t remember. Oh, yeah, that’s right, he says, we’ll just take “ma” home with us now then and “pop” can come up to our house at 11:30. And he drives off toward home in the middle of my stream of four letter words.

We arrive home. He goes into the guest house with a book while his mother starts cleaning my kitchen. I tell his mother to stop cleaning my kitchen. Well, who is going to do it, she asks? No one is going to do it, I answer. In the first place, my husband and I have an agreement, whoever invited the guests can make the house look “appropriate” for them. I don’t care if my friends see that I actually live in this place, and obviously he’s not bothered by it either. Our house. Our prerogative. Now put the damn bleach down! She says, and I quote, “Well, I don’t want them to think you’re not…”

“I’m not what? A slob?”

“Not ready.”

“I am ready. This is ready. If they don’t like the way my house looks, they don’t have to hang out here, and the same goes for you.”

She says, and I loved this one, “I used to try to talk back like that with my mother, but you remember my mother, she wouldn’t stand for it.”

My response: “That was because that was HER house and you were 8. Your son and I are no longer 8, and this is NOT YOUR HOUSE. This is MY HOUSE. And it is as ready as I damn well say it is. It doesn’t matter if the place is covered in cheese whiz. Now, I am not kidding, I will kick you out.”

Here is where I stop myself, go to the guest house, and tell my husband he better go babysit his mother and stop her from invading my life. We have a nice long chat about that “break” we’d agreed upon. He agrees, she’s invasive, but it doesn’t bother him that much. He figures, if she wants to clean the house that bad, let her. Less work for us. Doesn’t work for me. My house. I pay the mortgage. If he wants mommy to clean his house, time to go move back in with mommy. I need a break from this woman, and I need it now. But what can he do? Kick her out? Well, yes, actually, that would be a nice start. Instead, he decides to go get his father.

I stay in the guest house until 11:00, when the rest of the guests arrive. We ring in the new year. MIL says, “You are coming up for New Year’s Day dinner tomorrow, right?” No, no we are not. “But… you are coming up for New Year’s Day dinner tomorrow, right?” No, still no. Will be no later when you ask again. Will even be no tomorrow when you call and ask where we are. NO! Mommy and daddy go home. More discussion about breaks and breaking people’s necks and similar subjects.

Ah, but it’s not over yet! My husband wakes up at 8 a.m. with the flu. The phone calls start at 10. First the home phone. We are coming up, right? Still no. No, ma, I’m sick, and we said we weren’t coming anyway. Next, the home phone again. She just wanted to check on him. He’s just going to rest now. No, don’t bring any food up, thank you. He goes to sleep. I refuse to answer the phone. She calls his cellphone next, then the home phone again, then my cellphone, then my cellphone again. I go to the guest house, leaving a heavy object in front of my front door, as I know where this is going. Yes, folks it’s that sick, I actually have to block the woman from entering my house.

Twenty minutes and another cellphone call later, I get a call on the phone in the guest house. It’s my husband, from the front house. “My @%%$#@ mother is at the door.” My suggestion: “Ah, well perhaps you should tell your @%%$#@ mother to go to hell.” Silence. “If I go out there I will tell your @%%$#@ mother to go to hell.” His response: “If you don’t, I will.” Oh yeah, he talks real big.

This conversation is cut short by the sound of the woman ambling toward the back door. I come storming out of the guest house, and yell at her “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She says: “Something is blocking the front door. Why is something blocking the front door?” “Why are you letting yourself in to MY house when I have told you not to come and told you everything is fine, he just has the flu, please let him rest?” Of course begins the, “I’m so worried about my son” routine. I launch into a diatribe about how he’s not 8, she needs to get over it and he needs to let go the apron strings. I railed on her for a good 20 minutes, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t force her way into my house and into the bedroom to see her precious son puking his guts out, all the while adamantly insisting that she is going to bring soup, because when he can eat again, whatever will he eat?!!! Oh my frigging god!

Yes, the locks are getting changed, that’s already been decided. I’m now just trying to decide whether I’m even going to give my husband a set!!

iVillage Member
Registered: 11-17-2006
Mon, 01-01-2007 - 9:42pm

{{{hugs}}}, just {{{hugs}}}

ilve2read

iVillage Member
Registered: 05-15-2003
Mon, 01-01-2007 - 10:13pm

You poor woman!!! This is just sickening!!! Maybe you and DH need to see a counselor to help teach him HOW to put up some boundaries around yourselves and your marriage. Some peace and time alone with each other should not be this difficult!
Prayers and hugs...

Kathy

iVillage Member
Registered: 12-08-2004
Tue, 01-02-2007 - 5:30pm
MY goodness! RUN to couples counselling. Now. This woman will eat you both alive.
iVillage Member
Registered: 10-11-2005
Tue, 01-02-2007 - 8:59pm
GOOD FOR YOU!!!
~~Sam stitches well with others, runs with scissors in her pocket. Cheerful and stupid.
iVillage Member
Registered: 12-08-2006
Tue, 01-02-2007 - 9:32pm

WOW. I can't believe that she (your MIL) is helping herself into your house. I would've kicked her @$$ out. You are a better woman than I am, because I would've never consukted my husband. I would've handled her myself. I feel so sorry for you. Maybe, you and your DH should consider moving.

Good Luck.

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-19-2003
Thu, 01-04-2007 - 10:00pm

Hi ivil_badkitty, welcome!

Wow! Your MIL is one pill and a half! Your story reminds me of one of the Everyone Loves Raymond episodes. The one where Raymond thinks he is sick and his mother tries taking care of him and Debra gets upset because his mother is taking care of him at the house and insists on doing so. In the meantime, Debra says he isn't sick but 5 mins. later the dr.'s office calls to say that he has strep throat and she tells him to get back in bed. Before the phone call, Debra lashes into his mother about he isn't a kid anymore and how she needs a husband not a little boy, etc. Have you seen that episode?

Good for you in sticking up for yourself and telling your MIL off. She deserved it. I would keep all the doors locked from now on and make sure that she never has a key and get deadbolts that lock from the inside, so there is no way she can get in EVER again. Your husband needs to tell her to stop it immediately. If he can't, then you two should strongly consider marriage counseling, because she is going to keep interfering in your marriage if your husband doesn't put a stop to it.

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