Mil Is Like A Vortex Of Negative

Well, I've got to hand it to my MIL, she impresses the daylights outta me on a regular basis, though not for anything even remotely pleasant. I'm just completely baffled at how much she seeks to injure her own son (nevermind her grandchild or me) with a constant and ready stream of poison commentary. My husband, ever the optomist, still tries to include her in a bit of good news and/or conversation beyond very superficial and generic topics. Recently, he went on a bit of a bender and told her about our gardening plans and our daughter's upcoming karate grading to red belt at only 2 1/2 years old. Her response to the gardening plans was to throw back her head and let off a really haughty, really fake laugh before "reminding" my husband that all the plants at his old house were always weak, feeble, and dying. What she forgot to take into consideration was that the builder of the old house never dug down very deep when they made a gardening plot to the back of the house which also butted up against some really wild choke-weedy territory all of which was bloked off and unable to be treated. Basically, they threw some plants into a bunch of gravel and builder's rubble with a thin layer of topsoil and called the property landscaped when my husband moved in. It wasn't until the following year and after the estate was completed and the builders were long gone that he noticed the plants never flowered. He looked at replacing them and therein found that he didn't really have a garden plot at was more like a place to abuse and torture anything green. To his credit, he did the best he could with hardy ever-green types of plants that could survive a rocky mess and they were pretty looking, but in that environment, they never grew very tall. Still beats the pants off the fake plastic and cardboard plants - yes, you read that correctly, PLASTIC AND CARDBOARD PLANTS - that his mother has stuck all over her hoopdie "Sanford and Son" property. This nutjob "landscapes" with cheap, nasty, bleached out and weather-tatty looking tcholtch and has the brass nads to tell my husband what a sh!te gardener he is. Needless to say, her words were like venom to him and he left that day feeling the wind diminished from his sails and shaken in his confidence to make our house look pretty. Thank goodness I was able to encourage and convince him that he knows what he's doing, he has my help, and that the house would look lovely over the years because our builder didn't cut any corners inside or out. Sure enough, we've got gorgeous roses climbing everywhere and fat tufts of lavendar and lilies that scent our every coming and going. I can't wait to see the look on her face next year when they bush out like something from Babylonia.

As to our daughter obtaining the privelage to even try for her first proper grading at 2 1/2 years old, this was an award in itself. We know she loves her karate class, and we knew she was taking to it very well, we were just gob-smacked to learn that her Sensei believes she has a natural talent for it and wants to put her through the grading ceremony so young. This was delightful news for our little family and we've shared it with everyone who loves and supports her. Aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbours, friends, even grand-parents...all were delighted and so proud of her. All except the MIL. Her first response was, "Well, is mustn't be very hard to get then! It seems they just give these things away now." She went on to say that when her boys were in karate it took them forever to obtain a new belt, how much hard work it was, how they had to earn it, yada-yada-yada. My husband was only too eager to pipe up in our daughter's defense and remind the evil MIL that he and his brother were absolutely terrible at the sport and that they spent much of their time fooling around and not practising. She shot him down in flames saying that a proper karate club wouldn't even consider grading someone so young, that she was awfully young to be in karate at all and now they want to "just give her a belt" and then went on and on about not seeing the point of such a rush. All of this took place right in front of my daughter as well. She has always struck me as a very observant child, so you can imagine what homicidal urges were gripping me when my daughter turned to me and asked, "I'm not getting my red belt, Mommy?". I cannot describe to you how much I want to rip my MIL's head off 99.9% of the time...only problem is that it's lodged so far up her bum, I fear I'd never be able to get a fair grip without heavy machinery!
reddcorn1 reddcorn1
31-35, F
Jul 13, 2010