Sometimes people annoy me… but relatives annoy the crap out of me…ALWAYS!
Last week, we went out to dinner with my in-laws. So, what are a few hours with the in-laws, right? Mine are *special* people, though. Not to say I don’t love them, after all they are my dearest Ares’ parents, and the grandparents of our beautiful child, but *sharing* any kind of time with them takes some deep mental prep, a shit load of valium… and even then sometimes taking a horse-sized enema is a more pleasant way to spend my time.
See, my mother-in-law is this ubber Catholic, holier-than-thou individual who does not necessarily choose to live life in the most Christian of ways, she is constantly reciting her own made-up bible verses, she spends her time telling people that “you must” do this and “you must” do that, yet doesn’t really do anything for herself. She’s stuck in another world, literally, preferring to talk about a much grander past she left in another country 30 years ago, than to make any attempts to get to know the world that has surrounded her since. Her house is a cave that smells like Luby’s, where the sun never comes in and the temperature is never below 96 degrees. She treats her pets like children and she treats our child like he’s a pet. She chooses to speak in ear-searing, high-pitched, chipmunk-like voices, gossips incessantly with the excuse that she’s “helping others by giving advice”, and bathes herself in the preferred scent of crazy old ladies: Chanel No 5, to the point that our poor child is left breathless after a hug and unpleasantly scented for 5 hours after she’s babysat. She is absolutely and annoyinglgy persistent in conserving our little one fully covered with socks and under thick fleece blankets in the 100 degree plus Houston heat! However insane she seems, though, she does love our child and is nice enough at times that I will agree to give her 5 minutes of ear time to rant, if only in gratitude for taking care of the kid when we’re in a jam.
Then there is my father-in-law, a nice individual, whipped ball-less by his wife, who tried to imbed in his children that all things done his very antiquated way are best… even after he’s proven wrong- repeatedly. He’s stout and short, with a perpetual *I-told-you-so* smile on his face. He has no real convictions, no voice in conversations, prefers to keep to himself, and has absolutely no motivation or ambition in life. He takes great pride in every wood-and-chicken-wire box he’s ever built and which are scattered throughout their very cluttered home, and prefers to talk about the weather, fishing, or baseball than to listen to his wife rant about some distant relative who is too old to know them from their own reflection in the mirror. I don't blame him at all. Sometimes I look at him while she's ranting and I feel deeply saddened by the fact that he has to put up with that shit everyday… but then I remember that he alone made that choice. He’s someone who I will probably never relate or be close to, but who I like to think I understand to some degree. He loves our child to tears, and prefers to treat him like a big kid rather than speaking to him like he’s a pet... which I just love. However, at times I don’t think he feels that Ares is the great Daddy that he is, choosing to belittle his fatherly decisions rather than admire the very loving way in which his son is raising his own children. It’s at these times when I do tend brush him off, angry that he can’t see the great man his son has become, and then I put him in the same category as his wife.
I also have two sisters-in-law: one of whom is forty, a desk-cop who thinks she knows the world from watching the news on TV, the BBC films, and playing SIMS on her computer all day. She still lives at home with her parents. She goes on and on about how people don’t know how to raise their kids these days, yet she’s never had a man in her life, or never had a relationship... not even a one-night stand to keep her mind occupied. So, she has absolutely no idea of what it’s like to bring kids to this world. I can sum her up in three words: she is lazy. She has given up on life altogether, preferring to have Mommy cook, wash, and clean for her while Daddy fills up her car’s gas tank and prepares her cooler for work. She would love nothing more than for everyone else to spend their time thinking for her and investing their time and money rescuing her from the financial sinker she's gotten herself into. She’s bitter- oh, so very bitter- at everyone and everything, preferring to blame others for her failures in life rather than to take accountability and correct them. Her life passes by with nothing to do but work, watch TV, play video games, and have an outing here or there with Mommy or one of her two very distant friends. It’s quite scary to see how she’s quickly becoming a *mini-Me* of her mom, adopting every blatantly incorrect thought that comes out of her mother's mouth as her very own, and rushing to judge others based on the rants of her very uneducated mother.
Finally, there’s the second sister, in her forties, physically stuck in a passion-less marriage, and like her mother, emotionally stuck in a past that doesn't belong to her anymore. She lost 25 pounds a few years ago, so now she thinks she’s smarter, prettier, faster, and better than anyone else. She leaves her very ill husband at home while she spends her time at bars with twenty-some-things “partying”, but has no idea of the underlined meaning that the word “party” has these days, especially in that kind of crowd. She has been going through a perpetual mid-life crisis since I met her 3 years ago, and I cannot foresee an end to it. She has the worst attitude issues I have ever experienced, with her family, her job, her husband and even her mother-in-law. She developed this deep-rooted jealousy towards us when I became pregnant since she never had children with her husband and now longs for one. Even now that our little one is 8-months-old and I am pregnant again, she doesn't seem to care much- if any - for him or the new one on the way. A few months ago, she lost her job and refused to take accountability for her lack of managerial skills or proper work ethics. Everyone in the family decided to side with her, even before attempting to understnad the situation at hand. I know I was the only one who openly said nothing, yet secretly sided with her boss... and I still do. I have tried to like her, I have even tried to relate to her by admiring her skillful jewelry work, but there is a better chance for me to be a Nobel peace prize winner than there is for me to relate to her on any level... and we all know for a fact where my prize nomination stands. She has tried to antagonize me on so many levels, I have lost count, but I choose to ignore her since I really only see her two or three times a year. I feel for her husband, a man in his forties who has fought a very long battle with diabetes and faces the possibility of dying on a daily basis. I wish so much better for him, but just like my father-in-law, it was his sole decision to spend his life with this woman, in this loveless marriage.
So, how do I put up with all of it? I ignore everyone single one of them because I adore Ares and I respect the fact that our children need to have the opportunity to make these judgments on their own. So, if ignoring them is what it takes for me to be able to stand being around them, then that’s what I will have to do. I guess to say that my Ares’ family is *colorful* is to be blind-sided by the obvious shot of fluorescent orange emanating from the huge WARNING sign over his head. Yes, these people are one *eye-stabbing-with-a-lucky-bamboo-stalk* incident away from being institutionalized. However, I took a shot anyway, not because I was up for the challenge- you have to be a masochist of the worst kind to deliberately welcome this kind of emotional load into your life- but because I love him with all my heart and I know at times he feels the same way I do. I do feel bad for my children who are closer -physically- to these people than they are to their more normal relatives. I have to admit that, at times, they do get to me, and I wish for a normal family that I can respect and be respected by as well. It's at these times when I grow resentful of Ares, I cannot speak to him, look him in the eye, or even listen to what he has to say. I just want to run away and never have to deal with any of them again. Hopefully, someday we will move away, the sooner and farther the better.
See, Ares is the only person in his family who has some sense of normalcy, even if some of his friends might think otherwise. To the world he’s funny, ambitious, and loyal, a great friend to have, an awesome conversationalist who can talk your ears off in just about any subject. But to me he’s this incredible man, whose life would make any Isabel Allende book seem tame in comparison. Ares has gone through so much in his life, especially when it comes to family matters, that I would do just about anything to make the rest of his life happy, easy, and trouble-free. I not only love him, but I admire the person he is and the person he has become in the last three years since I met him. I look at him and I see 30 well-lived years, and at times I feel that my life –difficult as it has been- has been a fairy tale in comparison. See, instead of drowning in this pain and allowing himself to fall prey to martyrdom, as his entire family did, he chose to live life to its fullest, to laugh it all off and make the best of any dreadful situation life had in store. Give him a lemon, he will make the darn best lemonade ever; put him between a rock and a hard place and he will push on the rock until he can squeeze his way out. He went through high school and college with less resources than most of us can possibly imagine, yet he pushed through without complaints, accepting his circumstances and taking life in stride. He chose the cheapest sports to practice, so long as he could practice any sport. At school, he polished his entrepreneurial skills, gambling for his lunch money. He found no support in his family, but found the conviction and desire to succeed in his heart. I admire him in a way I never have anyone before. He is my pillar, my love, the only one that understands my quirks and loves me for them. At times, I sink so deep into an abyss, where all I can think about is the past and all of the things that I want to change in our lives but cannot. Then I take one look into Ares’ gorgeous eyes, and I understand just how pitifully insignificant my anger is.
This is why I put up with his family, why I chose to ignore what would otherwise ignite an argument or a fight in a marriage, so that peace is maintained in our lives. I pick my battles because he will always fight them alongside me, and I cannot find fairness in placing him in the middle of the battlefield to fight alone. He gives me the tools I don’t have in dealing with life and in exchange I give him a partner to lean on and fight the battles with.
Besides, I know my family is no bowl of cherries…but that's a whole other story!
