Tuesday, November 18, 2008

sorry, no halloween pictures this time

With Thanksgiving nearly a week away, life is pretty hectic here at home. I have a menu to plan, grocery shopping to do, a Christmas budget to set, holiday cookies to plan out, and most importantly, I need to find a way to keep my mother-in-law OUT of the kitchen. She's threatening to make the mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving. Anyone who knows me knows that mashed potatoes are MY signature dish. Actually, come to think of it, Thanksgiving is my signature meal. I love planning it. I love cooking it. And except for a few minor projects that I despise (cutting the veggies, peeling the potatoes, cleaning up afterwards) the kitchen is off limits on that day.

Ah, the joys of sharing the house with another female adult.

You know you feel my pain. . . . .

Anyway, moving on. . . . .

Everything else here at home is rather mundane. Kids going to school, adults going to work, cats being their cute kitty selves, dog being her possessive "nothing is better than a dog" cute self, mother-in-law claiming to have illness after illness just begging for someone to PAY ATTENTION TO HER, IN HER TIME OF NEED (that never seems to end). Yep, same ol' same ol'.

Oh what, you didn't hear about my mother-in-law's latest?!! Oh my I have toned down the hate, haven't I?!! Well, for those of you who like it that way, lets end this post now.

Okay, now that they're gone, let me explain.

It seems as though the mother-in-law has kidney disease. Now, I am in no way making light of her (not yet confirmed) situation. Because heaven knows I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even her. I truly feel bad for all she is going through. What I can't handle is the self loathing, self pitying act that she continues to put on.
"Oh poor me, I just got well only to get sick again."

"Oh poor me, I'm sooooooo sick, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to work."

"Oh, my son Tim, he's horrible because he doesn't bow down to my every whim and wait on me hand and foot."
"Wait, you mean he has a family of his own?"
"But, it's supposed to be all about me, screw his supposed family, she could never love him nearly as much as I love myself . . ."
"er, I mean him."

"What you expect me to clean up the kitchen, after you've been doing it for weeks in a row? Oh, I'm so sorry, I'll just ignore your requests, and feign nausea instead."

"By the way, got any chocolate?"

I could go on and on, but I won't. Needless to say, we aren't sure if she really is sick or if it's all a big ploy (like the many other's she's pulled) to get attention because moving out here just hasn't worked out the way she thought it would. Her beloved Brad didn't drop his wife and hop on her broom, she didn't make a million friends like she had thought, and she didn't land that full-time lucrative career she thought she would. Because, you know, the job opportunities are so much better out there. We'll forget the fact that there are a lot more people to compete with as well. People who aren't coming down with the last thing they read on WebMD. People who are nice. And people who (despite her young age of 54) aren't older than dirt. My parents, for example, are much older than that and both still hold down full-time jobs. You can't slow them down.

Okay, I'm done with my rant. What can I say, the holidays are upon us and I'm missing my family like mad. This faux extended family (and by that I mean her) sucks ass.

Plane tickets to Ohio for my little family of FOUR.

That's the only thing on my list this year.

PS. Sorry, this post is a little more violent than most. Don't know what got in to me there. It's just stuff I've been holding in for far too long.


Amber said...

Hey, blogs are for ranting! No need to apologize. :)

Your MIL is only two years older than me?



She sounds so much older; damn, I keep thinking I'm around 30, I can't seem to shake that, ahahah!

Sorry she's ill or pretending to be. My SIL has had kidney disease for at least 20 years now; it's treatable, hers is in remission now; they have great drugs for it. No it won't be fun but it's beatable.

Tell her I'm 52 and people constantly mistake me for being my 30 y/o daughter's sister. Tell her age is a frame of mind. Tell her that...

Oh forget it. Doesn't sound like you want to talk to her anyway. ahahaha! ;)

The Immortal Woman said...

Your MIL, tell her, no matter where you go, there you are. The changes she wants, start within.