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Sick Of Your Morning Sickness

, , , , , | Related | January 9, 2018

(My mother-in-law is pretty traditional and incredibly opinionated: marriage before intimacy, and so on. Sometimes she speaks her often ridiculous opinions before she processes the logistics. Before I was married, if had a stomach bug or anything it was always the same:)

Mother-In-Law: “There’s a bug going around; you’ll live.”

(Fast forward to my honeymoon. We’re gone seven days. On the flight back, my husband and I both start feeling a bit gross: nausea, stomach cramps, etc. We pop in to see my husband’s family when we get back.)

Mother-In-Law: “You must be pregnant.”

Me: “Yeah, no. And, anyway, [Husband] is sick, too. Is he pregnant?”

Mother-In-Law: *ignoring my comment* “Trust me; you’re definitely pregnant. Get a test.”

(She walked away, leaving me dumbstruck. She never jumped to this confusion before we were married. I mean, we lived together for six years. And by the way, we were both fine.)

Making Grand Plans For You

, , , , , , | Related | January 9, 2018

(I find out I am pregnant. My fiancé is overjoyed because he is told the likelihood of him having children is very slim. We decide to have a small get-together with our immediate family to announce my pregnancy. Naturally, our families are excited and the usual question is asked.)

Husband’s Step-Dad: “So, do you want a boy or a girl?”

Me: “I think it’s a boy, but a girl would be fine.”

Husband: *snorts* “Yeah, ever since she found out she was pregnant, she’s been saying that she just knows it’s a boy.”

Mother-In-Law: *snottily* “Well, I think it’s going to be a girl. I need a granddaughter, because I already have two grandsons.” *pats my fiancé’s youngest nephew’s head*

(The room suddenly falls silent and everyone stares at her a moment before my dad changes the subject by asking if we have any ideas for names yet. Fast forward to my next ultrasound, where the tech asks if I’d like to know the sex. No surprise: it’s a boy. We call our mothers to tell them the news. I hear a shriek from my fiancé’s phone loud enough to drown out my mother and stare in shock as my fiancé holds his phone away from his ear while his mother screeches.)

Mother-In-Law: *obviously outraged* “There’s no way they can tell the sex right now! It’s too early! It’s got to be a girl!”

(My fiancé rolls his eyes and tells her that it’s definitely a boy because he saw the penis on the ultrasound and we had the photo to prove it. Fast forward several months to my baby shower:)

Aunt: “So, how long before you and [Fiancé] have another baby?”

(Before I can answer, my mother-in-law butts in.)

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, as soon as possible, so that I can have a granddaughter.”

(My aunt and a family friend exchange a look while two of my cousins whisper to each other, obviously not sure how to react to my mother-in-law’s rude behavior.)

Me: “Not likely. [Fiancé] and I have discussed it and have decided that we’re only having the one, because I don’t think I could handle the stress of more than one child.”

Aunt: *nods* “I can understand that. You don’t want to have more than you want or can care for, or you’ll resent them.”

Mother-In-Law: “Well, if they space it out so that [Son]’s in school when they have the next one, I think she could handle it.” *to me* “You have to keep having babies until I get a granddaughter.”

(There’s a collective gasp of shock, followed by dirty looks cast at my mother-in-law, then sympathetic looks for me.)

Me: “No, [Mother-In-Law]. I’m not having any more children, and that’s the end of it.”

(Sadly, that was NOT the end of it; my son will be two in a couple of months and this crazy cow STILL keeps trying to tell my now-husband and me that we “need to give [her] a granddaughter.” Little does she know, my husband is getting “the snip” when he comes home from his deployment next year.)

Hungry For Some Justice

, , , , , , , | Related | January 5, 2018

(I have an older in-law who is a big time user; she tries to con everyone she can. Her big thing right now is trying to con everyone into taking her out for a steak dinner. Not a quick fast food meal; she wants a big, expensive meal with appetizers and the works. She will pull the, “Oh, I have never been to a nice restaurant,” and puppy-dog eyes routine, whining and begging. It never works with me. We have just moved into a new home with a two-month-old baby. The power has not been turned on yet so I have family who lend me a cooler and fill it with sandwich meat and leftovers from when we had dinner at their house the night before. I am cleaning and the elderly in-law is visiting with another in-law who is outside helping my husband build a deck. She speaks to me in her fake Southern accent.)

In-Law: “Oh, dear, my dinner bell is going off.”

(I am not stupid, and I am not playing that game. I tell her I have some sandwich meat and I can make her something.)

In-Law: “Oh, I don’t like sandwiches, dear.”

Me: “Okay, well, I have some leftovers from my mother’s house you are welcome to have.”

In-Law: “Oh, I don’t do leftovers, dear.”

Me: “Well, then, I guess you’re not hungry… DEAR.”

(She had the look of deer in headlights on her face. She made an insulted face, got up, and walked out of the house. She did not return until over ten years later. Several other in-laws told me if they knew that that was all it took to get rid of her for a decade they would have done the same thing.)

We’re Going To Come Under Fire For This One

, , , , | Related | January 3, 2018

(I live in Montana, but my brother-in-law lives in California with his daughter. Recently there have been several large and out-of-control fires raging in California.)

Father-In-Law: *talking about a conversation with his son earlier* “So, he says they’re going to go down and pick out a Christmas tree.”

Me: *from the other room* “Are you sure there are any left?”

Father-In-Law: *thoughtfully* “You know, I don’t know if they’ve sold out or not.”

Me: “No, I mean with all the fires… It was humor. Dry humor. Like California.”

(I pause dramatically.)

Me: “I’m on fire… just like California!”

(I make dry, morbid jokes. So sue me!)

Things Are Going South

, , , , , , , | Related | January 2, 2018

(My husband and I are playing with our toddler and he’s excitedly jabbering away at us. Suddenly, he very clearly says the “N” word.)

Me: *gasps* “No, no, [Son]! That’s a rude word! Never say that!”

Son: *shaking his head* “No, no!”

Husband: *frowns* “I wonder where he heard that? I know we don’t say it, and none of our friends do. No one even says it with an ‘a’ on the end.”

Me: *scowling at him* “Well, obviously it was from your mom and step-dad or some of their friends at their church.”

Husband: *scoffs* “Why would you say that? How do you know that he didn’t hear it from your parents or some of your family?”

Me: “Oh, I don’t know. It could be the fact that your mom said some of her neighbors proudly told her that they had run a—” *leans over and whispers [ethnic slur] then resumes normal tone of voice* “—out of their town a few years before your mom and step-dad moved in. And she still tries to say that they’re good, nice people.”

Husband: *shocked* “What?!” *shakes his head* “And she claims that living in the South hasn’t rubbed off on her.”

Me: *glares*

Husband: “I’m not saying all people from the South are racist, but that’s how my mom used to think, and she always swore that living in the South wouldn’t make her ‘like those people,’ as she used to say. Seems she’s become one of the people she swore she’d never be.”

Me: *sighs* “We’re going to have to have a long talk with your mom and step-dad, and it’s going to be a long time before he stays with them again.”