But it's not.
I have no clue why my MIL does the things she does. Neither does my husband. We've spent many days and nights trying to figure her out, asking her mother what happened, why she is the way she is and no one knows.
Maybe it's her perceived horrific childhood (I say perceived because everyone else in her family denies the stories she's told about how rough her childhood was), bitter where her life has gone in the direction it has (even though most people would be pleased to have a full-time job, her husband employed, a roof over their heads and their children thriving in their adult-hoods), or maybe it's just that she's unhappy.
I've thought that she's generally unhappy for a while now, and while trying to figure out what to do for her birthday, we thought it would be nice for me, her son and her daughter to completely remodel her kitchen for her.
Pretty much from floor to ceiling. She spends so much time in her kitchen that it really needed a major facelift. It took a full weekend for the three of us (with some help from my mom, one of my SIL's friends) to get it all done. New paint, fixtures, cabinets painted and even new countertops.
After we got done, she came home and was pleased...
...but the bitter, unhappy MIL quickly returned.
They decided to come to our house to visit a month later. OK, fine...they brought her mother, which was fine since I thought (bad mistake), that my MIL would be on her best behavior since her mother was around.
Did you know I'm a horrible wife because I haven't GIVEN my husband a child? That's always something nice to say to a couple who is trying and has been for a while now (and she knows this).
That weekend couldn't have ended soon enough....
The next month, we left my husband's truck for his father to use for various projects he was trying to get done around the house...and since there's three of them in that house working full-time, it's easier to have three cars than just two. Usually my SIL will drive my husband's truck, which is fine. She works, puts gas in it and is a very careful driver. So when we heard that she wasn't allowed to use the truck, we were shocked.
Enter WWIII between the SIL and the MIL.
Luckily, that night, we were on our way to our hometown since DH and I had doctors appointments and it was Halloween weekend. DH told SIL that it's his truck, she can drive it and MIL has no say in it whatsoever. Well, that started what we'll call WW4 between DH and MIL. MIL didn't like that one bit, so she went out, took a toy intercom system that was in the truck and wrapped it around all of the doors so SIL could not get in the truck. SIL can't get in the truck = SIL can't use the truck (in MIL's mind).
Who does this?!?
SIL was effectively trapped at home since MIL went to sleep and hid all of the car keys.
Yeah, I can understand this if SIL was a drug abuser, violent, crazy - but she's not. She wanted the car keys to go get food - why? Because there wasn't any food in the house (now, I've been there, I still get like this sometimes where I think there's nothing in the house, but really, there wasn't anything in the house when we went over there the next day). There wasn't gas in any of the cars, so if SIL could have gotten the keys from MIL, she would have had to put gas in the car before going to get food...which is what MIL wanted because she thinks she's owed things...like gas in cars, paying her bills for her, etc. (Kid you not. But that's an entirely different post)
SIL will occasionally stay out late...but it's not like she's with a different guy every day...no, she goes NEXT DOOR to her best friend's house to watch Lifetime movies and eat ice cream. I kid you not. We've all told MIL about this and what SIL actually does, but she never believes us.
We went on a cruise last month (the same cruise I blogged about before about how we asked them to go with us), and it was so much fun...until we got back.
We had been traveling for 16 hours, me, DH, my parents, SIL and her best friend. We were exhausted to say the least. DH called his dad from Salt Lake City to tell them that we'd be there in an hour and to be at the airport ready to pick us up.
DH called an hour later and talked to MIL and told her that we were there.
So why did we have to wait an hour and a half for them to pick us up?
Because SHE didn't want to come to the curb of the airport (where we told her) or answer her cell phone for the 14 times that DH and SIL called her, or even thought to come into baggage claim.
Sorry, lady, it's 40' outside, I just came from the caribbean where it was 90'. It's a little cold to us, we are not going to be standing outside waiting for you. Well, except DH, who did stand outside for the hour and half waiting for them. They were there the whole entire time, but parked and expected us to scour the huge parking lots to find the two cars.
Say it with me....WHO DOES THAT?
She's actually pissed off at DH right now because he laid into her. I'm so proud of him that he actually told her where to put it and how she was wrong and stupid for thinking that we would play Where's Waldo in the parking lots for her. He pointed out that he had called her 12 times and showed her the calls, and showed her SIL's phone where she had called her twice...so MIL walked away from DH, got in the other car, FIL was wondering what was going on and standing with the car door open on the passenger side as MIL starts to pull away.
I kid you not. He wasn't in the car at all and she put the car in drive and was pulling away. SIL found out later that she had all of her incoming calls blocked so no one could call her. MIL says that she didn't know she had the settings like that...um, I'm not falling for that line at all.
So, our early Christmas gift...because MIL is so pissed off at DH, she's not talking to DH. Best. Christmas. Gift. Ever.
Instead of celebrating Christmas with her, we're not. Sorry, if you're going to pout like a 4 year old and use the silent treatment on us, we're not celebrating Christmas with you.
Get over it, apologize to DH and realize that you were wrong, bitter and unhappy and the reason you are is because you choose to be.
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