MIL Chronicles
Ok. Here it is. Big and I go over to get her grocery list. Before this, at about 8:30am while I am still in my pjs, MIL calls me to tell me her grocery list is downstairs. She wants to tell me a couple other things to get. She wants me to remember them. I can’t remember my own name half the time. She has no intention of going downstairs. So I go over, get the grocery list and take it up to her. Remember this. It is important to reference later.
Big and I go over. She’s perched in her rollator. We begin to speak to her about her care and how things are going. I know her care is awesome. I also know her caretaker hasn’t drown her in the glass of milk she rudely asks for and that her caretaker is in Saint status already.
Big: mother we need to talk to you about your care.
MIL: uh huh
Big: what are you wanting to do? Do you like Olivia?
MIL: yeah! I like her a lot
Big: and you’re starting to feel better with the hospice taking care of you, right?
MIL: oh yeah, I feel good. I can do stuff on my own again (remember the grocery list)
Big: well I can tell you’re feeling better because you get nastier and nastier every day.
MIL: I do not
Me: you have gotten shitty lately. Why? What’s the matter?
More back and forth that doesn’t matter and is all bullshit out of her mouth, flying back and forth.
MIL: I never thought I’d have two people who just fight against me all the time.
Me: I’m sorry, are you speaking about us?
MIL: yeah
Me: oh, we who run over here in a snap? We who make sure you are safe all the time?
MIL: (temper tantrum, scooting toward the chairlift) I don’t need this shit. You know what, don’t even go grocery shopping for me. I’ll find something in the refrigerator.
Big: oh for sure. You don’t even rinse dishes anymore and you’re gonna find something to eat. Stop it.
Me: know what you need is to act like someone is doing things for you for the right reasons. We have never done anything but take care of you, make sure you get what you need, work to make sure you are safe.
I’ve gotten louder at this point. This is where she goes to open her mouth to shush me because the neighbors might hear go off the rails.
Me: and do not even say be quiet because the neighbors will hear. I don’t give a fuck what they hear! You need to figure some shit out and quick.
Then I left. Because it was the best for her safety. I. Left. I told Big I’m sorry I lost my cool but I just hit my limit. He’s says he’s speechless and can’t even make sense of how she can be that nasty to people. I said yes please remember that when you want to have a reasonable conversation with her again. He says you’re right. It’s a waste of time.
Correct. And blood pressure. And self restraint for me not to start swinging.
We come back from grocery shopping and put everything away. I empty the dishwasher while Big goes upstairs. I can hear him whisper yelling at her. We leave.
Me: what did you tell her? I know you were whisper yelling at her.
Big: I told her she needs to do a little soul searching because you aren’t her daughter and you treat her better every day than she deserves or her own daughter would do.
Me: thank you. That’s a true story.
By 5:30 she called me to ask me to come over so she could apologize for being nasty. Ok. So we are fine. Until tomorrow.
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