Big Fight Over Little Woman

So my mother-in-law is here. Has been for over a week. I have no idea when she will be leaving and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.

First barrier…she speaks zero English and makes no attempt. At all.  I know enough Spanish and at least make an effort to communicate with her even if I have to bust out Google translate. Or play charades and look like a total fucking idiot. She doesn’t have to try apparently because she’s ’embarrassed’ she doesn’t understand or know English. Somehow that exempts her.

Second barrier…she is the one my husband caters to. Which I get to some degree, but for a marriage already struggling, this is not good.  I’m so fucking sick of being last and not having my feelings accounted for. It’s my house and my husband doesn’t seem to give two shits that I don’t feel like I have space in my own home.

Two examples: this Sunday I was looking for a cheese tray. An $8 cheese tray. It’s seemingly disappeared from our house. MIL saw it but after rearranging our fridge it’s no longer anywhere to be found. I can’t find a thing in my own kitchen because she puts everything away where she thinks it goes. She doesn’t bother to ask where it should go.  Why should it matter, just because it’s our house?!?  And then when I went to make breakfast she immediately started making something too. It was like Food Channel, but way more passive aggressive.  What in the actual fuck.

Third barrier…we don’t have any time for ourselves as a couple because she stays up and sits in the living room.  Wherever we are, there she is.  No fucking alone time whatsoever.

What the hubs doesn’t understand that I am not keen on having a virtual stranger in my home. We saw her a year ago and only because we traveled to her. Before that it was a year ago. This is only her second time even seeing V and she is almost 2. We’ve been married 8-1/2 years and this woman has made no attempt to get to know me. Her other daughter-in-laws?  She has them as contacts in her phone and speaks to them regularly. But not me. That part has been hurtful to me, and I feel as though I’m beyond attempting to be the one to make the effort or try.  I am done trying.  The kicker out of all this?  She typically has nothing to do with the hubs either except when he can do something for her, like fly her to see a different sibling.  Isn’t that nice?

Even now, I am sitting at our dining room table, while she is sitting by my husband, talking to him.  There’s no attempt to engage me in the conversation.  She can fuck off as far as I’m concerned.  I’d be counting the days until she leaves…but I don’t have any clue when she is fucking leaving.

I sincerely apologize for the amount of fucks in this post.  It’s either that, or lose my shit.  Although I may have already lost my shit.

Mean Girls

Last night, we were at a friend’s house watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics.  The usual group of suspects.  As we were watching the parade of nations, we happened to keep noticing people in the march that didn’t look like athletes.  They typically were older, not as an in shape as an Olympic athlete would be.  One of my girlfriends had said, “Who are these people?”  But her commentary didn’t stop there.

She went on to say she didn’t know fat people could participate in the Olympics.  Then she looked right at me and said, “Robin, who knew?!?  Someone should have told us that you could be fat and be in the Olympics!  We may have been Olympians.”

Fuck you.  Fuck you so much.  I wanted to cry at her comment but somehow managed not to.  I was, however, stunned enough, not to utter a single reply in return.  I simply stared at her in disbelief that those words had just come out of her mouth.

Why do girls have to make such mean comments to each other?  Admittedly, I know that I am overweight, but for fuck’s sake, do you have to straight out call me fat to my face?   And in front of a big group of people?  Hearing those words really stung.

I have struggled with my weight for my entire adult life.  I don’t need someone to remind me that I’m overweight.  I don’t need someone to put me down.  I’ve had a lifetime of dealing with family that have put me down and made fun of me for my weight.  I don’t want or need to be “included” in someone’s insults or putdowns because they don’t feel good about themselves.  Hell, most days I don’t feel that great about myself, but I sure as shit don’t go around calling myself fat.   That helps nothing and no one.  Ugh, I’m still so upset about it today that I could cry again.

I don’t believe she was trying to be intentionally malicious.  I really don’t.  I do think she was trying to do a whole sister solidarity thing by lumping us together in the fat girl camp, but what she doesn’t realize is that she lost a friend last night.

And one last time, I want to say to her (if only in my head) , “Fuck you for hurting my feelings.”