Wednesday, July 2, 2014

The Great Buttinsky


My husband managed to escape work earlier this evening. We were enjoying our lives as a family of 3, soon to be a family of 4. I began cooking dinner, making dirty rice (thanks to a box of Zattarain's my mom sent), some Old Bay seasoned shrimp and home fries. And then, IT knocked at the door.

Sigh.

I seriously thought we went over this. Didn't we? We did. I was told she wouldn't come every night, but here she is coming every night. And she wonders why I'm unhappy to see her standing there, wearing the same outfit she's worn now for 3 days straight. And for the 3rd consecutive day, she makes the same bland mush for my child. Raelynn is 3. She's not an infant. She can feed herself and she likes chewing her food. Ugh.

My husband senses I'm angry about this. Darn right I'm angry. I'm sick and tired of this. I live here. I'm pregnant. I've agreed to my in-laws coming over every other day. Why isn't what we agreed to being respected? And now, he yells at me, rudely in Chinese I might add, so that I don't fully understand what he's said but that fat cow does. Thank you. Because the doctor said I needed to be eating more food for the baby but now I've completely lost my appetite thanks to both of you.

There's arguing and my husband walks out. I slam the door to our bedroom but not before telling MIL this is all her fault. I hope she's thrilled she's caused us to quarrel yet again. Soon, I hear the door open and close. I think my husband has come home from stomping around the block but no. MIL has left. So I go sit with my daughter, the only one of us with any sense in this family, who hugs her mommy and tells me not to be sad. I clean up the plates from dinner and soon, the door opens again. Both MIL and Jeremy are back. But he's still angry with me. He asks me what I said to her so I told him what I'd said. It's not like I called her a fucking shitbrained fuckwad (which I really wanted to call her) but he's still furious with me. On and on he hollers and I realize that my feelings are absolutely not important here. How could they be? No, I'm just the 9-month pregnant person who desperately wanted a break from certain people interfering in her life and now I'm being manipulated into thinking I'm an asshole because I've asked and asked and asked AND ASKED. And to no avail.

The Great Buttinsky strikes again, manipulating everything in her favor. Oh poor me. I'm an old lady who just wanted to see my grandchild and take care of my daughter-in-law. Please. Save it. I don't buy it but your son is easily charmed by your bullshit. Go ahead and play dumber-than-usual when your son yells at me because YOU interfered again and he doesn't want to hurt your feelings because you're old.

So now I'm stuck with these fuckheaded asshats coming over each evening and all I can do is pray that the processing on my husband's visa goes very quickly so we can move far away from these deranged loons.

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