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My husband's parents are terrible, and he'll agree. But, in the mean time, during these holidays--does anyone have any advice on how to deal with them? Gifts really don't seem to work. They're very picky, and older, and they have everything they can possible want or need. I'm out of ideas and there is so much tension!

Thanks. They're just snooty, and we've had a series of disagreements. Most of them resolving around when we should have children. x____O; So, it's a very tense relationship since we're not going to do that soon. And, yes, they're old, but they aren't the ones who are gonna be raising them, ya know?

I know she likes cheesecake. D: But I made an apple pie for thanksgiving, and when dessert finally rolled around Charlie said he wouldn't have any.

I know exactly how you feel!
My father-in-law is one of the loveliest people I've ever met, but my mother-in-law is a controlling, judgemental super b***h a little harder to get along with.

I find the best thing to do is to push her down the stairs avoid being alone with them on a one-on-one basis; try and keep your husband and other family members around as much as you can, they might act a little more civil, then.
Compliment them occasionally, like her clothes, or the way they've decorated their home, or what a good job they've done of raising their son etc. and try to avoid confrontational topics of conversation, like in your case, children, or any other topics (poliics etc.) that you tend to disagree on.

I know it's an awkward position to be in, but all you can do is try and get along; if they still can't be civil, it's their down-fall, not yours.

I have to agree with that! Fortunately I get along fabulously with my in-laws, but my wife and my mother, well, oil-and-water. They have come to the agreement and publicly acknowledged that they are who they are, they just don't care for each other, but we're married and for the sake of everyone we're going to get along dammit and just avoid the touchy stuff. They just don't spend time together and don't comment on each other (when the other is anywhere nearby). Publicly acknowledging it tho was a good thing. It's less stressful that no one feels they have to pretend or try to get the other one to like them.

Thanks everyone for the comments, I really appreciated them. It's reassuring knowing that other people have poopooheads for inlaws.

However, if this worked for me:



--At least to the same extent. We'd be fine. Joyously so. However, when I told her that I knew who I was, and that I didn't care what she said or thought about me, she went on this huge, long rant on how I don't appreciate her opinions or their family's traditions, and how Adam would never say something like that; how he's always been a good son, but now she doesn't even know who he is.

I've seen her a couple times since we've been married, like three out of the nearly four months we've been married. And, well--she's had her friends send us letters on how to "forgive" one another and to "let go of our resentment".

Regardless to say spending Thanksgiving with them was interesting, because she pretended--not that I mentioned this particular letter--that she was completely over our disagreements, and was hugging and kissing me. .-.

And Adam's great uncle, said to me afterwards, that his wife (who I had not met before because she's been in and out of the hospital with cancer) was pleasantly surprised by me, and thought that I was very nice and polite despite all the negative things she had heard about me.

... Okay, I'm slightly ranting. BUT, we have this lovely appearance to make on Christmas, that I imagine wont be longer than two hours tops (mostly because I can't hope for under an hour and I'm being realistic). I know the mother-in-law is a fake, and I know my father-in-law thinks that I'm lower than dirt, and that our marriage wont last--he said so, before he stating that he would not, under any circumstances, come to the wedding.

So, being civil, eh? What on earth is that when someone is plotting for your downfall and holding my husband's puppy for ransom because we can't possibly afford a place that allows pets?



... And, yes. That is the only reason we've visited them at all, by the way. My husband missed his dog, Nevar. THERE. I've said it. xD And yes, we're saving enough to move into a place that allows for pets next year.

EDIT: And yes, I will try to be as civil as I possibly can be while mainly sticking subjects regarding the weather and such. Seems to be a pretty safe subject. ^^ Thanks again.

Lol! xDD His mummy is the same--a head nurse. And I'm a CNA, and I'm doing biology, and she told me that I had no right to talk to her about biology because I don't have my masters yet!

She didn't like you because you're not of her same faith? People are really dumb anyway. Some of the people in my church treat my sister poorly just because she has pink hair. Therefore, she must not be one of the "collective" and has original ideas, oh my! Or whatever. o.O; Just hair, yo. Wackos.

What did you husband think about his mother yelling at you like that?

Oh my goodness...where do i start.

[rant]

The first time I met my MIL, she pretended to like me. Then I find out from my hubby that behind my back, she would rave about how I was, and quote:

"a gothic, blood-drinking, manipulative, whore".

*coughs*


1. I am not gothic.
2. Even if I WAS... WTF.
3. I cannot fathom where the blood-drinking came from.
4. I am the manipulator, yet she chants these things to her son and THAT is not an attempt at manipulation?
5. Whore? Wow. Just wow. I was a virgin when I met her son. Never dated, never kissed, never even held freaking hands. Yet SOMEHOW, I'm a whore.

She couldn't accept that her son, presumed GAY by her just because he didn't have any experience either, lost his virginity to me. Another virgin. Wow. I'm speechless.

Also, it's amazing how suddenly, everyone who wears black is a gothic, and all gothics must drink blood. What was I wearing that day? Oh, a ruffled black skirt, and cute black top with a bright pink waistband. OMG I IZ LE GOTH.

Accoring to her daughter, whom I will discuss later, the MIL said to her that my "tits were hanging out".

Yea, me and the rest of the population of planet earth who DARE to wear a tank top in JULY.

She further commented to my hubby/boyfriend at the time:

"I always thought you'd end up with a nice blonde girl".

1. Because apparantly, all brunettes are bitches! eek
2. Are YOU blonde, woman?? Is your own DAUGHTER blonde? Oh, wait a second, you're BOTH brunettes. You also both PRETEND to be blonde by dying your hair until it's dried and falling out, but your roots do NOT fool me.

MIL's mother...

Shook my hand when she first met me.

The next time she was around my hubby, she started bitching and moaning about what awful people the french and spanish are (I am half french-like over 80% of people who live in Quebec...and half Spaniard) Hubby got pissed, yelled, and walked out.

She then disowned him for being with me.

WHAT did I do?

And his sister...wow...

If I could count the number of profiles I had to delete from dating sites that SHE made FOR my hubby under HIS name, somehow IMAGINING that she could get him another girlfriend and he would ACTUALLY go out with said woman after finding out what his sister did, rather than, say, BREAKING HER FACE.

We made sure she halted all of that, to say the least.

Rest of MIL's family? Hate before they even met me, for absolutely no reason at all. Peachy.


Oh, but the best part hasn't even been said!

The father. Divorced from MIL. Pretended to like me from day 1.

One day, MIL devised a plan to call the cops and pretend that I was THREATENING THE LIFE of my husband/then boyfriend, who by now had moved in with me. She thought that by doing so, they would remove him from my home. The cops showed up and questioned us, but after we told then it was a lie, they left. For good, or so I thought.

Fast forward a few months. MIL teams up with her divorced husband and tries the cop thing again, THIS time, they show up with the cops on a Saturday that I was OUT WEDDING DRESS SHOPPING WITH MY MOM.

I come back home, apartment looked like a tornado hit it, there were signs of struggle, and a scribbled note from my hubby that his mother had called the cops.

I was going to the metro on my way to his mother's house, thinking he was there, but called on a payphone before boarding the subway. Apparently, he wasn't there. He was in another province at his FATHER'S place. I walked back home and literally vomited on the side of the road.

I managed to contact him that night, he explained to me how they made up lies to the cops in order to kidnap him, and his father had dragged him to Ontario with him so that we couldn't go back home to each other.

I then had no choice but to stay at my uncle's home where my grandma lived downstairs so that they could keep me from having a breakdown and possibly harming myself out of despair. I did not eat, shower, or sleep until I was given a sedative from my aunt, a nurse.

My mother, furious at what MIL and FIL had done to me, called them constantly while I secretly communicated with hubby/then fiancée on msn.

FIL got "fed up" with the calls and brought Shawn back to Montréal 2 days later. Shawn's last words to him... <******** YOU"

*slams car door*

They have not had a relationship ever since. His mother played her "I'm sorries" until her head fell off, but I don't buy it for one minute.

She just doesn't want to lose her son for good like FIL did. She pretends to like me now. BS.

Ohhh...the coup de grace...

A few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. When the dates were sorted out, I found out I was about a week pregnant when they took Shawn from me. I had already had a miscarriage with a previous pregnancy the year before, and was still devastated from it. Still am. I was also considered high risk and susceptible to have another if I underwent stress during early pregnancy.

How my baby survived through that, the most stressful days of my entire life, I have no idea. I can just thank God.

All I can say is, that b***h almost killed my baby.

[/rant]



THE MORAL OF THIS STORY


Avoid psychotic in-laws like GRIM DEATH.