My 14 year old brother is staying with us since my parents are out of town, and he was watching a movie when the ILs arrived. He offered to turn it off so we could all visit, but MIL said no, she wanted to see it, too. She remained absolutely silent during every single commercial, but the minute the movie came back on, she chattered non-stop. She did this last time we were up there with "Dharma and Greg," too. Drives me bonkers. If she'd rather talk, I wish she'd say so, because as much as I'm used to multi-tasking, this is getting a bit ridiculous. It got to the point where I was glancing up from N's birthday invitations with an, "Mm-hm," in between sentences. My brother was staring intensely at the tv screen, and snarling his "uh-huhs". When C gets monosyllabic, you know he's irritated. She even went so far as to say at a climactic scene, "[FIL] is no fun to watch movies with. He never wants to talk during the movie. Never. You'd think for such a talker, he'd have no problem with it. I guess it's because he can't hear well, you know [I know. I know very well. Every conversation with FIL is punctuated by 'WHAT?' because the man won't change his damn hearing aid battery], and since he can't hear, he has to concentrate really hard on things. But I guess if I couldn't hear, I'd want to concentrate harder, too. Yeah, anyway, this movie is really good. I like it. Did you see it in the theater? We did. Twice. Owen Wilson is such a cutie. I think we've seen this one before [FIL] really likes it. He says it's good. That means he's gonna buy it. The man can never rent a movie, he always has to buy one. It would be better if he'd seen the movie before he buys it......." ad nauseam. At this point, I interject darkly, "Our family generally doesn't talk during movies either. We like to watch them." These lovely people are going to give me grey hair by the time I'm 30. Not just one or two, no way-the whole head-grey as a nasty little rain cloud. La-de-frickin'-da. They really are nice people though, and I'm grateful for everything they've given us and N, even if they get on my nerves sometimes (okay, most of the time).
This blog is where I get all of these negative emotions out. Under normal circumstances, I'm the picture of sweetness and light around the ILs.
Today was a bit rough. N is teething--his 1 year molars on the bottom have broken through, and to add insult to injury, he has the worst diaper rash his poor little bum's ever seen. He's been so tired, and frustrated and clingy, and I love him so much and it sucks so badly to see him hurt. His saliva has turned into acid, and it hurts to nurse him for more than a few minutes at a time on a side, and right now the Tylenol is only enough for a few minutes. He wants to nurse and nurse. Fortunately, he had a terrible nap earlier, and is now completely asleep in our bed with no fuss. I'm looking forward to crawling in next to him in a few minutes. I love snuggling with him, and I'm sure tomorrow will be better. Those teeth can't keep bugging him forever, can they? My N never does anything half-heartedly. He cuts teeth in sets. At the moment, he's cutting both of his bottom molars. So far, these are worse than the top 4 teeth, which he also cut within 2 days of each other. So add teeth, the stress of having my little brother who, while a wonderful kid generally, is really high strung and has some anger issues, staying with us, and the communication problems B and I have been having (more on those later), and I'm already pretty wound up. Throw one insipid MIL, and one gloaming, patronizing, so proud of his grandson he's bursting because he thinks he did all the work giving birth to the kid FIL, and I'm a little on edge. I'd tell MIL upfront that I'd like her to zip it when we're watching a movie that she says she wants to watch, but even said in the nicest way, I'd never hear the end of it--she'd be sooooo hurt and offended. Therefore B has to tell her. B won't though. B's being a jackball. But then again, I suppose I am, too.
Our communication is not flowing smoothly as it never has. LOL Some of it is him, some of it is me. For example, yesterday, we were supposed to take Little Brother (C) to his dogsitting job, and B kept telling me some weird plan for the day, that ended up with me not getting how N and I were going to end up with him and C at the restaurant. B ends up saying, "Since I said it in English four times, and you still didn't get it, I guess I'll have to use another language. @@" I snapped back at him, and we bitched at each other for a minute or two until we discovered that he responded that way because he thought I was being pissy with him, and we got stuck in a circle.
His other argument is that I always get everything my way. Not true. I just don't tell him when I'm giving up what I prefer for him. I don't want him to think he's guilted me or that I'm suffering because of his desire, so if something's not a big deal, I'll say, 'Yeah, that's okay,' or something non-committal so he doesn't feel bad. The problem is that he reads my non-committal as an enthusiastic okay. We need to work on that. Anyway, he says I always get my way, and I tell him that's because he always gives in. He's afraid I'll never stop arguing until we're done (not true, he's never pushed it beyond 5 minutes or so, except maybe with N's non-circumcision), and since he thinks our marriage is more important than him being right (how sweet :)), he thinks it's easier to let me have my way. I then inform him that he can't let me have my way and then turn around and bitch about it for months. If he gives in, he needs to let it go, or he needs to dig in and fight for it. His response? "Okay, then I'll never give in to anything again." DID I ASK YOU TO NEVER GIVE IN AGAIN?!?!?!? No. I simply asked that he dig in once in awhile on things that are really important to him. Everything is either all one way or all the other way. Hyperbole is his specialty. It drives me nuts. He does the same thing with the housework. I am not Martha frickin' Stewart. I'd like to be that organized, but I'm not. Get over it--he was well aware of the situation before we got married. I try to keep the house clean, and if I'm able to do a load of dishes, I'm thrilled, and he should be, too, or at least he should acknowledge it. But he'll say thanks for it that day, and then the next time I leave the dishes undone, I hear, "You never do the dishes, and you don't pay any attention to the things that are important to meeeeeeeee." The last part is said with a whine. A 27 year old man whining. Not a pretty picture. Let me get this straight. He accuses me of never getting anything done and not caring about his feeeeeeeelings, and he wants me to work harder on keeping the house clean? With that kind of reaction when I can't? Uh-uh. No siree, Bob. You wanna clean house? You're gonna thank me and remember it every dang time you come home to an empty sink. Hearing his normal reaction makes me want to not even try. I know it's important to him, but if he's not even going to notice when I make a valiant effort, then it's really not worth the hassle.
He feels like I really don't listen to him. He's probably right. The little things that he considers to be important (like a spotless kitchen), are not that important to me. I'd much rather spend an hour playing peek-a-boo with N than doing dishes, which are just going to get dirty again in an hour anyway. I should respect that an orderly house is something he needs to feel content, and I should do it more often, but I really lack the drive. The rooms he likes the cleanest are the ones that get the dirtiest, and are the hardest in which to supervise N while I'm cleaning. Still, maybe I am a selfish bastard (well, selfish anyway). He really needs to work on not being such an anal-retentive nitpicker, and speaking to people (namely me) in a pleasant, non-sarcastic tone of voice, and I really need to work on actually doing the things that he considers important. We've got some work to do...
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