My sister suggested that I stand up to my mother-in-law and confront her, on how she has been indirectly treating me, since the birth of the twins. At the time I thought it would be a good idea, but on talking it through with the psychological therapist, at my regular group therapy session, she thought this a bad idea. Who would I have to stop me from falling into my downward spiral, if my confrontation went horribly wrong? No-one. So I decided not to.
Tomorrow is my twins first birthday, an occasion which has been over-shadowed by the M.I.L taking over and insisting on doing her own thing. She arrived today and I have felt the tension building up, until this evening it reached boiling point.
I disappeared upstairs after the children went to bed, because I didn’t want to be a part of her big charade. I didn’t want to be witness to her taking over my living room with piles of presents that the twins don’t need, or will even know what to do with. She knew that we wanted things low key, but no, it had to be done her way.
I had just had a bath to clear my head, and was about to blog about how the brain works, in relation to anxiety, when she calls up the stairs for me to blow some balloons up. Like some kid who hasn’t don’t their homework. I grudgingly go down stairs to keep the peace. She throws me the green balloons.
MIL: “Here you can blow these up, I don’t like green.”
Me: “Why are you even putting green ones up if you don’t like them?”
MIL: “Because the kids do though”
Me: “What is even the point of all these banners etc. I get the balloons but why banners, and a photo cake? Is it really necessary? They won’t be able to appreciate them.”
All hell breaks loose.
Now the above was me actually trying to speak out for a change. Usually I would just meekly get on with stuff. I guess it didn’t turn out as I had hoped.
The next half an hour was spent being told how she is fed up with me. How I use her son. How it’s practically my fault that he doesn’t have a job. How she believes he’s only with me because he’s too soft to leave me. How if he left me, I wouldn’t cope on my own with three children. How I don’t change nappies, do anything for the children, never walk my son to nursery and share the responsabilties of being a parent. How I’m lazy because I order in the groceries instead of all five of us going – without a car – to get the weekly shop. How basically I do nothing at all but sit on my arse.
Dear readers I gave as good as I got – which I’m fairly surprised about because that is so not me. I told her that she should have said all of this from the very beginning instead of holding this grudge for 12 months. Nothing that I told her mattered though. She refused to back down. Nothing I ever say will change her opinion of me. Nothing The Beef (who said very little) says will change her opinion. I made it quite clear who the twins mother is and that won’t make a difference either.
One thing I didn’t do was cry in front of her.
So what I was trying to avoid and which, I was advised to avoid, has happened. Now I’m in an awkward position. I guess I’ve said my piece at the very least – which is better than nothing. I’ve had the chance for my voice to be heard for a change. I did go upstairs and cry my heart out. Now though, I just feel hardened. For months I have been telling The Beef that this is what she thought of me. Now he knows that it wasn’t “all in my head”.
I guess we just watch this space.