I chased my MIL out of my house
Monday, July 16, 2012
She finally snapped my last nerve.
After weeks of gradually getting more and more beaten down by he niggling little passive-aggressive digs, I lost it.
"I've never heard of doing it that way."
"That's not how I clean a bathroom/kitchen/carpet/cat box."
"I never had to put limits on TV time when Jon was a kid."
"I guess you forgot to clean out the cat box with Alaric gone. Sure will be nice for you when he's home to do these chores."
"I never heard of training a dog like that. It's so mean." (To scold her using an alpha-dog-like growl and then immediately praise her when she does the right thing.)
"We don't have to tell Mom about this." (For everything from eating fast food more often than I allow, to playing video games when he was told to clean his room, to breaking a picture frame and trying to hide it.)
Oh, so many others...
Last night, she commented on the Salad I was making for dinner. "I never heard of using an avocado that ripe..." (It was perfectly ripe. Soft and mashable, but not mushy. Buttery, healthy goodness for our dinner.)
I said "DING! I'm sorry, that was the sound of you reaching your lifetime limit on snarky little digs. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you off."
I said "Your constant notes on how I do things? 'I never heard of this or that or the other thing.' Buying your own brand of cleaners. Telling my kids that my rules don't apply. All that stuff. You're done. You've used up all you're allowed and now you need to find a new way to communicate."
She sputtered and got pitiful. She accused me of hating her, of taking her son away, etc.
I stood my ground. "None of that is true, but you are in my home, and you are not only being extremely disrespectful, you are engaging in a delibarate campaign to undermine my children's respect for me, your son and our rules. You're welcome to stay out your visit, if you can change the way you communicate, or even make a genuine effort to change, but I'm not going to stand here and let your insults wash off me any more."
She made a few threats - "I'll leave and you'll never see me again. I'll just die alone." That kind of thing.
I said "If that's how this has to go, then so be it. It's not my goal. It's your choice."
When I woke up this morning, she, her dog and all of her stuff were gone. No note. No phone call. No messages. My husband expects he won't hear from her except through relatives for some time.
He's OK with it. He knows I haven't been a saint on this visit, but he also knows that I did my best to accomodate and he backs me on the decision to put my foot down.
I hope she calms down and is willing to at least come to Alaric's HS graduation this spring. If not, I know Alaric will understand it's not him, it's her.