If you can't make it better you can laugh at it. ~Erma Bombeck

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Showing posts with label Life in MIL Land. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life in MIL Land. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Life in MIL Land

First I want to thank all of you who have emailed me and left comments regarding: 1. Where the heck I’ve been. And 2. How Bug and Lady N’s visit went.

Where I’ve been: I’ve been lazing around, spending some time with Hubby, doing a little shopping with a friend, and generally just enjoying my clean house and my carefully selected, lovingly placed Christmas decorations. All too soon, I’ll have to take it all down and the house will slowly go back to its normal, lived-in state.

The kids’ visit went well. The biggest problem I had was that I just could NOT stop being Damama. As so many of you can attest to, 30-somethings do not want to be mothered! It’s just so darned hard for me to turn it off! Oh well. One day you will be the 50-something, learning to live in the new and challenging world of mother-in-lawdom. I hope I’m still around reading your blogs so I can whoop and holler and say, “SEE!! Told ya so!!”

It is really weird, this mother-of-the-husband world. Not only do you have to cope with the addition of a permanent other-half to your son, but your relationship with him changes, as well. Neither change is necessarily a bad thing, just a new, weird thing that sometimes leaves you feeling like you’re standing with one foot in quicksand and the other on eggshells.

But then I remember feeling that same way when I became wife-of-the-son. I guess I was so wrapped up in those odd, unbalanced feelings that I never fully appreciated how hard it was for my first husband’s mother. I wonder where she is now. Maybe I should find her and tell her that I now understand. And maybe I’ll finally forgive her for making me eat her fried frogs legs after she’d pointed out that they looked just like baby legs jumping and jerking as they cooked in the pan.

(For those of you who’ve never seen cooked frogs legs, here’s a picture of the finished product.




And if you still don’t believe me, go check out some of the frogs legs cooking stuff on YouTube. Warning: some of them are so gross that I refuse torture you with ‘em here. )

Just suffice it to say that I’ve never again consumed that particular Cajun delicacy, and forgiving her for having seared that image into my young brain is a MAJOR step in my emotional development!

Now the moral to this story: If you are married to the son-of-the-mother, be patient with his mom. Try to get to know her as a woman, not just as his mother. She might just surprise you and be someone you could actually like. And remember that some day...

When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid,
And bring so much happiness...just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided.
Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
I'll write on the wall with reds, whites and blues,
And I'll bounce on the furniture...wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)

When they cook dinner and call me to eat,
I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat,
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry...I'll run...if I'm able!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
I'll sit close to the TV, through the channels I'll click,
I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud 'til the end of the day!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)

And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan,
"She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"



Thank you, Margie, for sending me this so I could share it here.
Author unknown – if you know, please tell me so I can share that too!

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