Home » A Wasted Life » Living With The Monster-In-Law/Just Kill Me Now

Living With The Monster-In-Law/Just Kill Me Now

We moved in with J***s’ mama and daddy and she immediately started laying down her ridiculous rules.  They ranged from ordering me not to “be throwing” tampons down the toilet, to telling me how much toilet paper I was allowed to use.
My routine was getting up, changing and feeding the girls, watching J*** get ready to go to work and dreading the rest of the day.
Her routine was getting up, making herself the usual grapefruit juice and Vodka cocktail and starting her day.  She would putter around the house, fixing drink after drink and then go next door to see her mama, grandma F******, to complain about me.  Grandma F****** had been there when I married J*** and I had been around her a few times but I didn’t care for her.
She would whisper advice to J*** behind my back about how he and I were raising our children and I didn’t like that…..not to mention that she kept calling me by his first wife’s name.  There was only one letter difference, but it shouldn’t have been that confusing.  I never corrected her, but J***s’ brother did and through the years, it transformed into me having the audacity to straighten out grandma F******.  It was just one more thing that was held against me.
I had also met J***s’ paternal grandma and I treasured her.  Grandma H*** was one of the sweetest, kindest people I had ever met and was the only person who immediately made me feel welcome.  Our relationship enraged R*** and she was almost insane with jealousy.
One day, R*** decided that we would pick up grandma H*** and go eat pizza.  R*** ordered a pizza, a pitcher of beer and three glasses.  She filled up the three glasses and sat one in front of me and one in front of grandma H***.  I moved mine away and she angrily picked it up and sat it right back in front of me.
I was too disgusted to eat and my children certainly weren’t old enough to eat pizza so we just sat there and watched R*** eat a few slices and then drink that whole pitcher of beer.  We were getting ready to leave and she handed me the bill.  I told her I wasn’t paying because she was the only one who ate or drank.  She caused a bit of a scene but eventually paid.
When we got back to her house, J***s’ daddy was there and she slammed the pizza box down on the counter and said “here.  Eat this.  YOU paid for it.”
The next morning, I got up and started changing and feeding the girls.  J*** needed a shirt ironed so he got out the iron and ironing board.  R*** absolutely blew a gasket and told him that it was not HIS job to do that.  He told her he didn’t mind and went ahead and ironed his shirt.  After he left, she lit into me with a vengeance.
I absolutely could not take any more of her violent outbursts, so I packed up the girls and headed for grandma H***s’ house.
I called J*** and told him I was there and that I was going to stay there.  He didn’t give me any trouble and said he would call me when he got off work.
From that day until the day we left, my girls and I spent every single day at grandma H***s’ house.
Grandma H*** was one of the few family members who actually acknowledged that R*** was a drunk, although she did it quietly.  She rarely commented and when she did, it was simply “I don’t know why R*** says and does the things she says and does.”  She told me that one time she had angered R***  and in retaliation, R*** stood at her front door and used her porch as her “spit can.”  It was winter and it was freezing, but R*** stood there with the front door wide open.  J***s’ daddy finally had to tell her to shut the door and come back in and sit down.
Grandma H*** was virtually set aside.  R*** was emphatic when she said “as long as my mama lives, we’re going to have Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner at her house” which meant grandma H*** was left out.  It had been clear to me who made the rules in that household from the very beginning.  I felt sorry for grandma H***.  She never got to see her oldest son on Thanksgiving or Christmas day because she had been labeled as unimportant.  I could strongly identify with the unimportant label and it would for me in the coming years, not only be underlined, but capitalized.
I had gotten to know J***s’ aunt F****** (the one I didn’t want to end up like.)  She was staying with grandma H*** and we all three had a lot of fun.  Grandma H*** wore “coke-bottle” glasses and aunt F****** and I would tease her by saying “when she takes her nap, let’s hide her glasses.”  Grandma H*** would just laugh and laugh.  Being around them was such a contrast to being around R***.  Never once did either of them criticize the way I fed, changed or treated my girls.
Grandma H*** and I created a bond that remained intact until the day she died.
J*** had gotten praise and recognition at work for winning the fellowship.  The newspaper had agreed to continue to pay his salary and award stocks periodically with the caveat that he would return.
We were both counting the days until it was time to leave, although I’m sure for different reasons.

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