My mother-in-law is visiting, and well, I just couldn't help but blog about it. I want to start off by saying that my MIL is just a really sweet, funny, loving person, who would do anything in the world for you as long as you, your parents, and possibly your grandparents have never done anything to get on her bad side. OR that possibly any random series of events made it look to her that you, your parents, or your grandparents have ever done her wrong, ever.
Luckily, for some reason, she seems to like me. I think it helped living on a different continent and not really speaking her language for the first 8 years of my marriage. Smiling and eating large amounts of anything she cooks, and providing cute grandchildren have gotten me far. Luckily for you, she neither understands English nor owns a computer let alone know how to surf the internet, so I feel I can speak freely.
Every so often, when I see my husband with his mom, I realize what a mama's boy he is. I feel really bad for his sister, because their mom definitely favors him over her. That's a chain I'm trying to break. My mom definitely favored my brother over my sister and me, but I thought that was just an Indian thing. As I understand it, sons are favored because daughters are considered part of their husband's family as soon as they get married, so if you don't have a son, you have no one to take care of you in your old age. Kind of like India's version of Social Security. Although my mom once said to put her in a nursing home before making her live with her son!
In the fight against favoring "my son! my son!" over my daughters, I've probably gone one step too far. That boy of mine loves his Sweet Papa more than anything. My husband had to go out of town one night for work and Bugsy was like, "Mom, did you ever miss anyone soooooo much?" I thought I was going to puke. And he's trying to be like his dad in so many ways. That's where I try and nip things in the bud. You know, get at the source of the problem before it gets out of hand.
In some ways though, I'm missing out. I see how Sweet Papa is with his mom, and I'm like, my son doesn't like me THAT much. My mother-in-law, was on the couch the other day with a swollen, aching foot and Sweet Papa was on it. At her beck and call, offering to massage it, even using some kind of healing mud mask on it (Luvos Heilerde for those that know it, used for everything from acne to irritable bowel syndrome) to get the swelling down. He never took care of me like that. Most likely because I've never been THAT sick, according to him. So even when I was 10 months pregnant with his kid, and not able to stand back up again after squatting down to tie his other kid's shoe, didn't warrant a helping hand, because technically, you know, I was healthy. And well, he probably didn't notice we needed help because he was already out in the car waiting for us to bring down the luggage.
Being Sweet Papa's mom isn't without it's drawbacks though. It never occurred to him to come home early or even on time that day when she couldn't walk on her own and I said even I couldn't support her weight to help her get around. She eventually had to go to the hospital for treatment, and she was complaining about how terrible the food was. So his suggestion? Should I bring you some toast? The woman slaves for days making pot roast and stuffed cabbage for you, and the best you can offer is TOAST??? I'm thinking that kind of love I can do without.
Luckily, for some reason, she seems to like me. I think it helped living on a different continent and not really speaking her language for the first 8 years of my marriage. Smiling and eating large amounts of anything she cooks, and providing cute grandchildren have gotten me far. Luckily for you, she neither understands English nor owns a computer let alone know how to surf the internet, so I feel I can speak freely.
Every so often, when I see my husband with his mom, I realize what a mama's boy he is. I feel really bad for his sister, because their mom definitely favors him over her. That's a chain I'm trying to break. My mom definitely favored my brother over my sister and me, but I thought that was just an Indian thing. As I understand it, sons are favored because daughters are considered part of their husband's family as soon as they get married, so if you don't have a son, you have no one to take care of you in your old age. Kind of like India's version of Social Security. Although my mom once said to put her in a nursing home before making her live with her son!
In the fight against favoring "my son! my son!" over my daughters, I've probably gone one step too far. That boy of mine loves his Sweet Papa more than anything. My husband had to go out of town one night for work and Bugsy was like, "Mom, did you ever miss anyone soooooo much?" I thought I was going to puke. And he's trying to be like his dad in so many ways. That's where I try and nip things in the bud. You know, get at the source of the problem before it gets out of hand.
In some ways though, I'm missing out. I see how Sweet Papa is with his mom, and I'm like, my son doesn't like me THAT much. My mother-in-law, was on the couch the other day with a swollen, aching foot and Sweet Papa was on it. At her beck and call, offering to massage it, even using some kind of healing mud mask on it (Luvos Heilerde for those that know it, used for everything from acne to irritable bowel syndrome) to get the swelling down. He never took care of me like that. Most likely because I've never been THAT sick, according to him. So even when I was 10 months pregnant with his kid, and not able to stand back up again after squatting down to tie his other kid's shoe, didn't warrant a helping hand, because technically, you know, I was healthy. And well, he probably didn't notice we needed help because he was already out in the car waiting for us to bring down the luggage.
Being Sweet Papa's mom isn't without it's drawbacks though. It never occurred to him to come home early or even on time that day when she couldn't walk on her own and I said even I couldn't support her weight to help her get around. She eventually had to go to the hospital for treatment, and she was complaining about how terrible the food was. So his suggestion? Should I bring you some toast? The woman slaves for days making pot roast and stuffed cabbage for you, and the best you can offer is TOAST??? I'm thinking that kind of love I can do without.
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