Part Two: The Mother-in-law from Hell

Remember that storm that I mentioned I felt brewing? It took from Christmas 1997 until we moved back to the states, for that storm to come ashore. It took a Thanksgiving in 2001 for it to build it’s ugly head. An outsider witnessed the entire thing over the holiday. Actually my brother in laws partner. He was disgusted with the way I was being treated. Guess what people? When an “outsider” sees it, it’s happening. I knew exactly how I was being treated. I just took it. But he was the one who spoke up to my brother in law and then apparently my brother in law confronted his mother. BTW it’s my fault he did that. What happened as a result to that?

March 2002 I get card in the mail because it’s my birthday. Oo the card is from my in laws; that was very nice of them. Oh and there’s a letter in it. I get excited with mail too, just as much as I do Christmas. 7 pages of note paper of how much she hated me. I was using her son. I did nothing. Her son did it all. I didn’t play with my child. And I had the gall to turn her sons…not just Jack her other son as well..against her. I drove a wedge in between her family. How dare I. I was pissed beyond belief. I stayed outside most of the night. I threw the letter at Jack. “I just want you to know. I am not done with you, but I am done with them.” Ugly words…and nastiness uttered my mouth. My husband read the letter and he was more pissed than I was. So pissed he wished “that bitch would die.” What she doesn’t realize those words did not hurt me. I might have seemed weak to her. She may have believed every word she wrote but what hurt the most was that this mother who claimed to love her son, did this to him. I never made him choose his parents over me. I would never ask him to do that. I wouldn’t want it asked of me. My heart ached for my husband. All I could do was hold him and told him I wasn’t going anywhere. I even told him to stop saying those horrible things about his mother. “don’t wish her dead Jack, she’s your mother. She’s not perfect. Yeah it hurts what she said. I know it’s not true. I’m pissed as hell because she never gave me a chance. She never wanted to know me.” He assured me he wouldn’t regret what he said over that kitchen sink if she croaked tomorrow. He also took away my keys and he went to the store and bought my a six pack of my favorite drink. Even in a crappy situation I can make a joke because if you don’t the hurt will consume you. “Why you taking my keys it’s not like I am going to waste the gas to drive 8 hours and confront her. She’s not worth it.” he knew I was upset. Yes I was. He didn’t want me driving. I wasn’t the only one to get a letter. Her daughters husband got a letter….9 pages. Him and I joked about it. Of course if they read this they will say I didn’t like him. Guess what I didn’t have to like him…I wasn’t married to him. He loved their daughter more than they will ever know. Him and I may not have always say eye to eye. I didn’t like the things he did , but I didn’t have to live with him; none of my damn business. It was after the letters we received I actually got to know a different side of him. He was tough on the exterior, but he had a soft heart.

The reason for her letter? Blah blah blah. She has always been the black sheep in her family. Her family treated her like crap. Her mother was dying and she was so frustrated. Blah blah blah…wonk wonk wonk..whatever.

Over the course of the next few weeks it was quite interesting. She called the house to see if I got the letter. Jack answered the phone because I told him it was their number. I didn’t hear her end just remember what I heard on his end. Yeah she got the letter. Did she call you to discuss the letter? Then I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now. Can’t say as I blame her really. No I am not going to get her on the phone. it got worse. He started yelling. what the hell do you mean you’re pissed she showed me the letter and how dare she? I’m her damn husband and my mother just sent her a hate letter in her effin’ birthday card. He was more ticked than I was. He was screaming on the phone. Veins were popping out of his neck.

A couple days later his dad called him. I always liked his dad, I never really had a problem with his dad. I had a lot of respect for his dad. I would have called him dad because that’s how I felt being around him. I didn’t always agree with his dad, didn’t always liked his views, but I liked him. His dad had called to get me to apologize. Just make it go away have her apologize and we can move on. It hit a nerve in Jack that I had never seen before. The two of them got into it as well.

The whole thing made me sick. Regardless of what she was accusing me of it wasn’t true. I knew it wasn’t true. I wasn’t perfect but I knew her accusations were not true. Jack accused her of never liking any of the women he hated or had relationships with. He went back and recounted girlfriends he had in school. She disagreed.

A few weeks later Jack’s grandmother died. We all rushed home to Moline. If I recall he said I didn’t have to go. What part of I am in this for the long haul don’t you understand? I knew I didn’t have to go. I knew I had ever right not to want to be around this woman. I loved my husband…her son more than she could ever comprehend. I think even more than he could comprehend. If you aren’t willing to go through the fire with a person you have no business marrying them.

The day of the funeral, I stepped outside for a smoke. I didn’t have anger, I didn’t have hatred. Despite what his mother did and said to me, I still showed up. Not to be in your face you can’t break me. Sometimes people do these things to others that are hurtful because they are the ones hurting the most inside. She came outside as I was puffing enjoying the cold March air in Illinois. We stood there, she started talking, I talked and then she broke down. I did the most instinctive thing I knew….held her. It was awkward I won’t lie. I recall hearing in history class of soldiers…enemies stopping the fight to wish each other Merry Christmas. It wasn’t some “fairy tale” I heard it through the tears of a War Veteran. I didn’t think of this woman as my enemy, she was human. I didn’t like what she did or how she did things or hurt people but she was family now. She just lost her mother and regardless of all the bickering a mother and daughter do there’s a relationship there that no one understands. I was leery of the situation however. Are the fangs going to appear from her? You can think of all the scenarios. I didn’t care if she spit venom at me. She needed to be held. She was hurting. However, as a woman I also knew…it wasn’t me she wanted holding her. I was just the one that showed her kindness despite what had taken place. The rest of her family was still pissed at her and she deserved everything she got. I excused myself politely and marched into the funeral home and sought out her husband, daughter and two sons. “I have spent the last five minutes outside holding a woman who just weeks ago told me how much she basically hated me. GET YOUR ASSES OUTSIDE and go to her. She doesn’t need me consoling her. She needs her family; she just lost her mother for crying out loud.” And I stood there looking at them all.

There was no mention again of that time, I never forgot and it still hurt. It never got better; it only got worse.

2003 I was pregnant with our daughter. Our daughters due date was actually my mother in laws birthday. She was excited. I knew my daughter wouldn’t be born on her grandmothers birthday. She was going to pick her own day. It wasn’t I didn’t want her to be born on a family members birthday. If my daughter had any ounce of my blood in me and the generations of women on my side of the family….she was going to be born when she damn well felt like it. A week later and a week over due; told y’all. For some reason people think I pull words out my arse and say things willy nilly.

Mom was coming down to help with our son. Second babies come early so she would come two days after the due date. Boy was she surprised when I greeted her at the bus stop. “We stopping at the hosptial?” I grabbed her suitcases and laughed, “Nope, I’m gonna be pregnant forever.”

Jack had announced to everyone…marines, friends, family. Not to come to the hospital until the baby is born. This was also told to his parents. Finally we are going to be having a baby. Jack calls his parents they will be up…Oh yeah they moved again 2 hours from us.

Jack and I are chilling out in the birthing room. I am doing a crossword puzzle. We are laughing and joking and the nurse says “you have visitors” Jack looked at me “I’m gonna kill those marines I told them.” and he stopped and saw his mother’s head peek in. Oh how are you kids doing? We just thought we would stop in before we went to the house to see if you guys need anything. The kindness and sweetness made me want to throw up. I didn’t say anything…I bit my tongue. Jack and her go get something to eat and bring it back to the hospital room. I was thinking what both of them could do with their whoppers or whatever the hell they were eating as I asked my father in law to “pass the ice chips please.’ I thought about throwing the cup of ice chips at Jack….I controlled myself. The lack of respect this woman had for OUR wishes was mind blowing. Finally Jack pulled his dad aside and said to get her out of here and he couldn’t believe he let her do this. Jack’s dad did apologize. He had no control over it. She offered to drive the last leg of the trip and he told her they shouldn’t come here but she insisted.

Beatrice kept hounding me. Did she want me to go get my mom? She could drop Jack’s dad off and be back in an instant. Nope. I had all ready talked to my mother. I had asked her if she wanted to come into the delivery room. She said no because I would have to invite Jack’s mother and she didn’t want Jack’s mother near me when I was delivering.

The baby was here…finally. Jack’s parents and mom brought big brother to see his sister. We had set rules, big brother gets to be introduced and see the baby first, before anyone else. If I recall correctly his parents only stayed two days. When they said they were going home, we all looked at them like they were crazy. When they left, mom said Beatrice tried so hard to get her to come back to the hospital with her. Mom flat out told her that the kids have said they do not want anyone at the hospital and we are going to respect that. Mom wasn’t stupid she knew what Beatrice was up to. If she got mom to go to the hospital I wouldn’t say no and the two of them would see their grandchild born. We all thought she got her nose out of joint because of that and that’s why they left. She didn’t get what she wanted so she was going to go sulk…maybe write another letter.

In 2003 another death in the family. I will never forget the phone call as long as I live. Jack was not at home. I answered the phone and it as his sister. I could tell something was wrong. She was asking for Jack and I told her he wasn’t home. I knew something was wrong by her voice. I loved her I thought of her like a sister. Again I didn’t always agree with her but I loved her. Her husband died that day. My heart sunk for her. There was no thinking , it was “we’ll be there as soon as we can.” I’m blowing up Jack’s phone. And we leave as quickly as we can.

Once we are back in Jack’s home town the entire family is there for his sister and her son. I didn’t know what to do for her. I felt helpless. How do you help or console someone who just lost someone they love? We were out on the back deck and his sister was talking to the pastor. I had gone inside and Jack’s mother was all ready in there and out of my mother in laws mouth came “she will be better off now. This is for the best” I looked at her I couldn’t believe what she just said. Her daughters husband had not been gone but not even a day and this is what her mother says. Are you kidding me? Then you wonder….of all the people she could have said this to, that are around in this house…why did she just say it to me? You just let it go like the rest of the BS she’s be dishing…whatever.

2006 my mother becomes sick. I had all ready been home once and I was getting ready to go back again this time I had told Jack I am going home until the end. He dreaded asking his mother for help. But he did. She came up and that very night my mother took a turn for the worse…that I had been telling everyone was happening. The kids, jack and I left at midnight and told her to lock up.

2007 our son went to his grandparents for a week. I am working, going to school, taking care of our daughter, dealing with bills because we were financially strapped before mom got sick and me not working for 2 months put us behind. Doing this…doing that…go go go. I get a phone call at 10 pm at night and this time it was Jack’s dad. Pissed at me. Who packed the suitcase? My son. I had gone over and gone over…and questioned our son. Did he have underwear, this many t-shirts, socks, this that and the other..yes mom I do. But I didn’t check it. Our son had done this several times. Jack didn’t check the suitcase. Then…his dad starts in about how he knows about me and I have been able to pull the wool over peoples eyes and he knew exactly what I was. Umm what are you talking about? I was a user a manipulator a this that and the other. And guess why we left as abruptly as we did when our granddaughter was born? Really people that was 2003…it’s now 2007. “We read your journal” Oh really?

I have kept a journal since I was a teenager. That was my venting. That’s how I released my anger at situations, how I thought things through. It had happy moments in there, it had angry moments in there. “you left it out we figured you wanted us to read it.” hmmm… “don’t recall either one of your names on the mortgage bill, which means if you aren’t Jack, me or our two kids…you’re a guest.” It explained a lot because all the sudden his sister started getting hateful. Turns out I had been venting about her husband. I don’t’ even know what I said.. I don’t re read my journals. It was raw emotion…at that moment. They wanted to condemn me for what I wrote in a journal that really was written and done with, put away when I ran out of paper. Point out the fact of what they have said when someone walks out of the room, out of ear shot or the CRAP pulled by them…his wife, who ever; just ignore that. I was done.

I told my husband to go get our son. While his dad was yelling and screaming at me and I yelling and screaming right back…I heard my son crying in the background. This is not happening anymore. I told Jack I wasn’t going to make him choose. I didn’t want it to be like this, I tried, and if that means I don’t go around them anymore this is how it is going to have to be. I loved him too much; I love my son too much to make either of them choose between me or them. If him and our son wanted to go there for thanksgiving fine; I was not going anymore. I was no longer subjecting myself to this.

What they were doing; had been doing was totally wrong. Sure Jack got pissed at them. But when it came right down to do, they are who they are just accept it. No I don’t have to accept it when your mother is treating me like crap. Then she would wonder why I didn’t talk to her much or want to go shopping with her or do anything with her. Why?

It was her way or no way. Guess what. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree on that one. As much as Jack would complain about her and dislike what she did; he would do the same crap to people; including me.

I am glad I am done with the whole brood. That wasn’t life; that wasn’t living; that wasn’t family. I don’t wish them any ill. They can all go on being unhappy, judging people, being racist, making the gay jokes, whatever they want to do.

What have a learned from all of this. I learned I don’t want to be that mother or that mother in law when it comes time. I saved the letter she wrote. It might be hanging on to bitter memories. I feel I owe it to my children to keep it for when they start relationships. I know there will be girlfriends/boyfriends I am not going to like. We all make our opinions known; but doing what was done to me, to my husband will not take place on my watch. When I feel that way–I’m going to pull out the letter and read it. I want to remember how it felt to be on the receiving end. I also know what I will not tolerate anymore if I ever get into a relationship again. From my partner or from his family.

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Part One: The Mother-in-law from Hell

My very first encounter with my future mother in law was when my soon to be husband called to let them know we were getting married in a week. There was a little chit chat and then Jack dropped the “we’re getting married next week,” bomb. There was obviously silence. Then his mother uttered, “I really liked that omit name girl. She was great.” I think my look at Jack was like when a dog hears a sound that makes their head tilt to the side. I ignored it citing that, hey we both put our parents through hell. I was also young and innocent and didn’t say anything. I did laugh when Jack’s dad said “Yeah she was great. She about made our son’s D**k fall off.” Pssst this girl cheated on him while he was on a 6 month deployment–she was spectacular. THAT was the very first encounter of my mother in law.

The second encounter, with my now mother in law was when our son was 6 weeks old. Jack, the baby and I fly to Des Moines, Iowa to be with his family for the holidays. It was a stay a couple days in Des Moines with his parents, then we would all drive to Moline, IL to be with the rest of the family. Jack made me hold the baby as we disembarked from the plane. “Hold him, she will have to go to you because you are holding the baby.” Remember I was 19 here, not 34. How bad could it be? That’s what I had been telling Jack the whole time. He had given me a little snippet of what his mother was like. For me I kept an open mind. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt….obviously something Jack’s family doesn’t do.

When Jack and I stepped off that plane and out into the terminal his parents were there. Jack’s mom’s eye lit up seeing him and the baby. She put’s on a good show. To the passer by and even to her son, she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. His mom made it look damn good. The hug she gave; cold as ice; and chilled me to the bone. You ignore it and again make excuses in your mind. This is a hard position for our families to be in. It’s going to take time.

It may have been a day later or maybe two and Jack’s mom and dad decided to go to the grocery store. She wanted to take our son with them. The excuse “it will give you two a chance to have a break.” She had him swaddled in a blanket. I believe I made the comment of do you need help putting the infant carrier in the back seat? She said the words so sweet to our son “We don’t need a car seat I am just going to hold him in the front seat while grandpa drives.” Jack happened to be standing right next to me we were messing with the baby bag or something and I whispered to him, “over my dead body she is. If she takes him he goes in a car seat and that’s final.” Is it really MY place to confront her about this after only being there a day? I mean really. I don’t believe it is. Jack said something about the baby needing to be in the car seat. The look on her face, her son just slapped her in the face. “But we did this all the time with you kids and your sisters son. It’s just down the road.”

My hormones were still out of whack. I was stressed over this whole meeting the family. Jack and I had a lot going on. New marriage, new baby, getting ready to leave for Japan in a few months, learning the Marine Corps way. I don’t care who you are it’s stressful. Now I’ve got Beatrice, here thinking it’s the 1970’sand not 1997. Jack even came to me and said, “it’s just down the road, it’s fine.” I held my ground. “you are telling her our baby doesn’t go if he is NOT in a car seat.” I had tears in my eyes and I was NOT going to let her see the tears, so I went down stairs into our room and flopped on the bed. When Jack came down I was crying into a pillow so no one could hear me. He slide next to me on the bed, “she’s not taking him.” Then “you can’t let her get to you this way. Mom is who she is and you have to toughen up around her or she is going to eat you alive.” I looked at him, “That’s not right. I am not going to let her do whatever the hell she so desires doing. This is our family Jack and if my mother were doing this you can be damn sure I’d be saying something.” You dust yourself off; collect yourself and go on. Tuck n roll.

When I finally entered back into the room mother in law was still harping about she didn’t see what the big deal was, they did it all the time with their kids and all this. I ignored it to some degree but gave responses as cold as she uttered them. Rules have changed since we were all younger; it’s the law now. On the inside I am thinking, yeah and there are reasons why we have laws. it’s like the disclaimer before a dumb ass video don’t try this at home. Obviously the laws/rules have changed since the 1970’s due to numerous kids being killed, injured in car wrecks sooo.. Voila we have laws.

I am not always talkative around new people. I listen, I observe, I get my surrounding. It’s who I am, it’s who I will always will be. I was highly uncomfortable there. There was so much tension in that house it was nerve racking. I put that aside because I loved my husband. I loved my child.

As I write I realize I still have “Jack’s responses” in my head. He thought my “vibes” my “intuition” my gut feelings were ridiculous. It’s how I have always been. I could feel a storm brewing, something in my gut, the atmosphere told me it was just a matter of when that storm would come ashore.

Jack’s mother, Beatrice had this house that when you walked into “common folk” weren’t sure where the hell they should be. Should I sit on the couch? Hell should I use the towels in the bathroom? Everything had it’s place. It wouldn’t have surprised me if you moved the toaster and an outline of where it should be placed back would be there. I didn’t even feel comfortable making our son’s formula in their kitchen. God forbid I use the wrong damn thing. I made Jack do it. After all, his first wife and her got into an argument of how to properly fill an ice cube tray for crying out loud. You fill the cubes individually with water…no you slant the tray down and let the water run through. Really? Who gives a rats ass how the tray gets full. I will blow everyone’s mind and say “we never used ice except to keep shit cold.” I don’t use ice for my drinks cause it waters the drink down.

We all went out to the mall one day (she likes to shop), I am not much of a shopper. Walking the GD mall I might do 2 times a year just stroll it. Most of the time, I go in get the what I need and get out. All 5 of us got to the mall. G’ma is holding the baby. “Where’s his binky?” he doesn’t have a binky. He doesn’t like the binky. “you don’t leave the house without a binky.” Sweet Lord. The child doesn’t LIKE the GD binky. We all headed straight to a high price store.. 7-8 bucks for a stupid ass choo-choo binky……that he spit out. She kept trying to hold it in his mouth. I kept getting pissed and biting my tongue. When I’m pissed I shut down, I don’t’ want to talk to you, cause I am about to say something you aren’t going to like. She was complaining he wouldn’t keep the binky in his mouth, even with her holding it in there. “Told you he doesn’t like the binky.” You whisper it just under your breath so you husband hears it and laughs.

I was happy we were all getting in the car and going to his sisters house. Maybe there would be normal. His sister remained in Moline. His brother had lived in Chicago and would be coming in a few days.

Jack before had told me, “there’s something I have to tell you about my brother.” ok? “he’s gay.” that’s it? Good grief I thought you were going to tell me something bad. I mean really? My mother’s best friend from high school was a lesbian. One of her friends was gay. To me gay or lesbian was no big deal. Murder, convicted felon…that’s a big deal. Gay? Ummm no. Then I was warned it was a touchy spot in the family. Apparently so are black people or as his family likes to refer to them as “N” I can’t even say it. I said it one time in my life and I still feel the sting. I was allowed to drop the F bomb anytime. But calling a black person a “N.” My mother would NOT tolerate it. Which is funny because Beatrice doesn’t like the “F” bomb but she will let “N” fly like it’s nothing. Imagine the rude awakening I got with that one.

What have I learned over the years? I am ashamed to say, ignoring it is accepting it. Even uncomfortably (nervous) laughing at the remarks is also accepting it; condoning it. All of them…including my own husband, let it all fly. You learn to keep your mouth shut. On the inside it was repulsive, ignorant, and it made me sick to my stomach.

It’s like I told Jack when he left and was telling me everything wrong with me and how I didn’t do this…didn’t do that. You get what you give. It’s that simple. That’s EXACTLY how I treated his parents. What they gave; they got back. What Jack gave; he got back. It took me longer because I actually loved him with all my heart. He got what he gave.

If dealing with his parents…mainly his mother was not an indicator to Jack that, I wasn’t going anywhere I don’t know what else was. There’s a lot of things that should have been an indicator to Jack that I WASN’T GOING ANYWHERE because I genuinely loved him.

Christmas literally SUCKED that year. It’s immature to be excited on Christmas Eve. “Can we wake them up yet?” No go back to sleep….five minutes later…”how about now” For the love of God you’re an adult go the hell back to sleep and wake up when everyone else wakes up. WTH kind of CRAP is this. Who the hell sleeps in on Christmas? “When name omitted nephew wakes up…then we all wake up.’ SIGH!!!!! Toss ;turn… Who the hell taught this nephew? Whose rules are these, I want to complain.

How did I grow up? Go to midnight mass at one of the local churches (they all took turns)…come home, go to sleep for a couple hours. Visions, sugar plums…yaddity yaddity yah….haul ass down stairs….go back up the stairs cause you didn’t slide down the banister…I had to hear mom “stop sliding down the banister.” Heard it…OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO presents. When we lived in the trailer…tin can as mom called it. I climbed through the window that had been taken out when the addition was added. “quit climbing through that.” sorry mom serious business here…OOOOOOOO presents. Now? Welcome to Military version of Christmas. Jack was used to the military long before he ever joined. Structure…YUCK! Everyone “had” to wake up. Get coffee, have breakfast. COME ON ALL READY.

Jack was pissed he never could change that in me. 34 years old…I still do it. I go NUTS over Christmas. It starts about end of November and goes until January 1. I love Christmas time. It’s the best time of the year. Don’t give a crap if I get presents..I love the season.

I was glad to get back to North Carolina after that “vacation.” We move to Japan a few months later. I keep in touch with his parents writing them letters, sending them pictures of our son. The majority of the flowers his mother got….I sent or hounded him to the point the went and did it.

At our son’s 2 year birthday Jack and I decided to go to FL. His parents had moved there from Des Moines. The joke of the family was…they will only stay there two years. For some reason they or Beatrice has to move. Jack would always say “everyone in the neighborhood has probably pissed them off about time for them to move.” They graciously invited my mother down to FL so she would be able to see us as well. I will say my mother had more tact that I did. My mother couldn’t stand Jack’s mother. For her, dealing with them was worth the sacrifice to see me, Jack and her grandson. I laughed hysterically at mom.

You should have seen Beatrice face when we went to Daytona….and mom said to my husband “take me to get a tattoo.” You want to talk about pious. Beatrice was the queen at it. “I can’t believe your mother is getting a tattoo. If God wanted you to have tattoo he would have given you tattoos. If God wanted you to have earrings he would have given you holes.” My response. “Those new earrings you have…those are pretty.” Smile. Beatrice likes throwing God around when it suits her. Her “Christian” beliefs pertain to only others….not her. Then she’d wonder why we didn’t want to go to church with her. “Oh let’s go to church.” Oh let’s not. I believe in God. I pray to God almost every night. If I want to go to church…I go to church. If I don’t want to go to church…I don’t go to church. Oh and I wear what ever the heck I want to wear to church. I don’t have to dress up.. The gates of hell didn’t open up and swallow me when I walked into church at 11 years old wearing a Bon Jovi t-shirt….think I am good. If we go to church…can I bring a barf bucket cause your “Christianity” is making me sick….hypocrite. Thought it…didn’t say it.

My son and I come back from Japan. We ended up staying 7 weeks at his parents house. Jack had wanted me and our son to go there for a couple weeks. Then he wanted me to stay there for the duration until he came to the states, cause he didn’t want me to be driving alone to my mom’s house…in St. Andrews New Brunswick by myself with our son. Even now I see it as a control issue. I truly think he thought that if I went to Canada that long, I wouldn’t want to come back. Again I don’t know what part of “I’m in this forever” is not understood. Anyway, Jack would say I was crazy with that thought. It’s how I felt…it’s how I feel.

You try to be this good little house guest. After all it was just the two of them and two other people adds expense. I offered to help pay for groceries, help with any bills you name it I offered. One day I finally got a head of Jack’s dad in line and finally paid for groceries. Freeloader I am not. If you want to play mind games of when I offer to do something and not take me up on the offer…that’s on you. Don’t bitch about it. If I didn’t want to do it….I wouldn’t have offered the gesture. Our son was in American overload. Poor child only knew Japan. He was SO excited to see his grandparents. I didn’t exist. He didn’t want mom…hell mom was there every day…G’ma this…G’pa that. I mean some mothers would get jealous of this. It was new to him. Mom took him to go pee and poo all the time. “I want grandpa.” or “I want grandma.” It was important to him. He was a child in 3 years this was the second time he saw his grandparents. I mean really.

You make sure you aren’t leaving your child so they think you are taking advantage of them. You feel damn well guilty for going two days to hang out with your brother in law but they are pushing you out the door, “Go have fun. Mom’s need breaks. Don’t worry about him he’s fine.” OK even after I said “I don’t’ need to go, I don’t want to leave you guys here with the almost 3 year old.” Oh crap did I just insult them for being old and not able to take care of a 3 year old? He’s pretty chill but likes to keep going.

We went to Daytona. The grandparents wanted him to feel the ocean on his toes. He said no. They drug him and he started kicking and screaming. I just said “he doesn’t want to guys, don’t force him.” Oh well he was ruining the trip to the beach. Who gives a rats ass if he wants to sit in the damn white sand and build sand castles all day. The kid hasn’t seen the ocean before. He likes pools. The ocean FREAKED him out. And what did Jack’s parents do. Called him a spoiled brat. He ruined the trip. They made him feel like shit. He came up snuggling next to me. “Mommy I want to go home.” I held him close. And the two kept on at him. I told him we would go back to the gma and g’pas house later. We were having a day at the beach. “No mommy I want to go back home to Japan.” Then it was the question of “When can we go see nana.”

The cold hearted truth. My son knew his nana (my mom) better than he knew his g’ma and g’pa (Jack’s parents). It wasn’t intentional. I wanted my child to have the same kind of relationship with his grandparents as he did with his nana. The difference, the grandparents didn’t have a computer. My son talked to his nana every day. On the computer and on the phone for those 3 years. He knew his nana. They talked about anything and everything. He only talked to Jack’s parents a handful of times while we were overseas. He recognized pictures. I had family pictures out because I wanted him to recognize his grandparents and his family. Just because we were half a world away didn’t mean he didn’t have to not know them.

Our son reacted differently when it came to my mom and to Jack’s parents. He was my snuggle bear. How my son and I were during the day while Jack wasn’t there, was different when we were all together. When Jack was home our son would come to me for consoling, praise. There were times lil man wanted his dad….there were times he wanted his mom. I regret now listening to Jack in the child rearing. Mother’s do it differently than dads.

We finally left to go get daddy in Atlanta.