Friday, July 4, 2014
(Com)promises, (Com)promises
It's been 2 whole days of absolute peace and quiet in our home. No invaders from the troll world have stomped their dirty shoes all over the foyer without wiping them first on the entry mat. Or arrived bearing food I don't wish to eat. Or caused heated arguments between my husband and me. Just pure quiet and a family getting along happily.
Jeremy tried calling his parents yesterday, but they didn't take his call. Today, MIL picked up the phone and I could hear my husband's side of the conversation. It was most interesting, let me tell you, but the best was when he finished the call and filled in the blanks.
It's good stuff, and I'm hoping this is the end of messes of the sort that occurred the other day because I can't take it anymore.
MIL was apparently angry. Well, that makes 2 of us, lady. My husband though, in a surprising move, backed me up on my stance. While he agreed I could have been much nicer, he also insisted that his parents cannot come over every day. He chose Monday through Thursday for them. And I agreed. Because this whole time, I've been willing to compromise. But every time I asked nicely for it, I was ignored until I lost my mind. He also told her that she couldn't feed Raelynn the same crap every day that she does come. That part I'd heard him detailing quite well. Our daughter is a good eater who loves lots of different foods. She needs to be eating more variety. The last 2 nights, she ate everything I served her without incident.
We've had arrangements before and all was fine until MIL began getting too pushy. My husband reminded her that while yes, I am in China, I'm still an American and I have boundaries. And I need those boundaries to be respected. If they are, then I'm happy and I'm even happier to ensure that their needs are met as well. Of course I want you to know your grandchildren and spend time with them. But I don't want you in my face all the time. I need space and I need to be able to care for my family on my own. That's how I work. If you want to come play, just remember what we agreed to and I promise I will smile when you walk in and not yell (in any language). Respect works both ways, MIL, and I know that sounds crazy in your culture but in my culture, that's how it's done. I don't care if you're old. Mind my space and I will, on the allotted days, allow you to come into it, dirty shoes and all.
Labels:
Cultural Clashes,
Family
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