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Thursday: MIL strikes back
Jun. 13th, 2024 10:11 amSo, MIL has been in the house for a week at this point, and she knows the drill. A. has to get out of the house at 9:45 am, to get to school at 10:30.
Also, MIL wants her hair Done for the wedding. She also wanted her nails done, and she made a half-hearted effort to screw that appointment up (R. brought her, dropped her off, did not go in with her, and she asked for my name rather than hers, and then called and said they lost the reservation), but it wasn’t really _sincere_. But she’s been machining her technique the last few days, since her efforts to fall while on a walk with me have been completely stymied. The appointment was at 10 am, so that I could help with the entire get A. out the door process, and I should have realized that this was a bad idea, because I had to limit her access to A. years ago after an incident on Cape Cod (I think that was the same trip she trash talked me to my own sister, which is a whole other story). The target this time was a combo of Disrupt All Family Relationships and Prevent A. from Getting to School on Time.
Here’s how it went down.
She knew she needed a smaller bag for the few day trip up for the wedding, and she knew she was bringing a large checked bag so she didn’t have to have multiple bags. She asked if we had something; I said, yes, and all she would have to do is stack up what she was bringing, I’d take a look at it and I’d get her an appropriate bag. Everyone who knows me knows I Love Bags and own a ton of them, and I often give them away to people who need, borrow, and like. So I wanted to make absolutely certain that whatever I gave her was cheap to replace, which, increasingly, is not true of many of my bags. But it _is_ true of A.’s bags.
Instead of actually asking me, she asked R. when I was not around, and he got her a G-Ro. I assumed he gave her his, and didn’t really think much of it figuring he planned to bring a duffel and a suiter. But no, he gave her the Office, which is 100% inappropriate for the intended use; it’s a rolling laptop plus case, the plus including space for maybe one outfit, but NOT 3 pairs of shoes, a CPAP machine and a bunch of other random stuff.
This morning, she decided to do a test pack, which was doomed to failure and which I’m sure she knew would fail. I’ve seen this woman gauge volume; she’s good at it. She 100% knew this wouldn’t work, which was important to her plan, which was to pack, fail, and then have T. go track down another bag, all while R. and I were getting ready to get A. out the door, MIL to the hair salon, drink tea, coffee, relax and do duolingo, etc. We were available; they just chose not to tell us what they needed, _even tho_ she had agreed to the plan, and the plan was, “Stack up your stuff and get me and I’ll get you a bag.” When R. got her the Office, he had (I asked, later) a funny feeling — he knew something was up, but it seemed innocent at the time (which it really looked like — it happened while I was out of the house, we share the closet, I have no problem with him getting into my stuff, etc.). The excitement was planned for this morning, and deployed when it would maximally damage getting to the hair appointment calmly and enjoyably, and getting A. out the door. She had a big Apology Scene all planned, and tears all lined up. But I have this woman’s number.
When I was told that T. and C. were in my closet, I went up, evicted them, and when there was the inevitable complaining from T., I said, “Rude”, and he started hyperventilating. I told him to show me the bag and the stuff, because they were in his room and he doesn’t like me going into his room (which I pointed out as hypocritical because he was deep into my closet and I’ve told him before he’s not supposed to be there). Once I saw the Office, I was like, what? And true to form, C. had carefully put her shoes into the laptop compartment, so I’m going to have to vacuum the sand out of there now. *sigh*
Anyway. I retrieved A.’s roller after asking if I could borrow it, and repacked her stuff, realized that if the CPAP machine was in the small bag, the breathing cord might be crushed, so I took it out, got my tote with the luggage strap that sits nicely on top of the roller, put the CPAP and etc. into the tote, and everything else into the roller and it was all set. I had Words with T. I told R. that MIL is not allowed back into the house after this trip is over (she can come back from the wedding days, but not Future Trips, because she should never get on a plane again, honestly, and professionals should be involved in keeping her safe). I told C. that she was likely to be late and she could blame it on grandma chaos and it would be fine. She felt bad, and that she should be better able to keep up with her morning routine without help, and I pointed out that three adults (or 4, depending on how you count) were involved in the morning’s chaos, so she really did not need to feel bad at all.
I went downstairs and smiled at MIL, and said, we can go to the salon now, and thanked her for being all ready to go, and she cued up her Apology Scene, and I said some things. I said, adrenaline will really wake you up, even better than coffee! I also said, “I don’t care about whether you’re sorry. We’re going to go to the Salon and Chrissy’s going to take good care of you and you’re beautiful already but if getting your hair done is what you want, you’re going to get that.” And I want to be clear, I did this all with complete sincerity and a pleasant and happy tone. I didn’t bring up anything about how she failed to comply with a simple directive to tell me when she was ready to get a smaller bag. I told her that she would have A.’s roller and my tote so she would be color coordinated (they match her dress fairly well) and lovely right down to her luggage. I absolutely said nothing at all about her disruption to the morning’s routine, because I knew 110% that that was Part of Her Plan and the best way to stymie that now was to pretend like it didn’t even happen.
I _expect_ her to destroy A.’s roller. But she might not — she sometimes declines to take the obvious target. But if she does, I’ve already got a planned response. “Oh, what a pity! I was going to offer to give that to you if you liked it.”
Anyway. If she pulls something truly appalling at Moodz, it’s fine. They have nutty people through there on the regular, and I tip heavily and I have told plenty of MIL stories. More likely, she’ll trash talk me to them while trying to present as long-suffering and etc., and Chrissy will make sympathetic noises and tell me all about it if she remembers in a a month or two.
I’m right on the fence about whether to risk a walk with her today, and trying to figure out something to say to convince her that hurling herself at the ground is not the Clever Sympathy Ploy she thinks it will be. The obvious thing is, “If you hurl yourself at the ground, MIL, I’m putting you on the next plane back to Ft. Lauderdale. And I do mean _the next plane_. No wedding. No further stay here. No nothing.” But that might just encourage her to hurt herself badly enough to need to stay at a hospital for a few days, which would complicate returning her. Another choice risks punishing myself: “If you hurl yourself at the ground, I won’t let you go to Maine, I’ll be too worried about you.”
Maybe I’ll send R. on a walk with her. She’s usually on her best behavior with him. Or T. Hmmm.
Also, MIL wants her hair Done for the wedding. She also wanted her nails done, and she made a half-hearted effort to screw that appointment up (R. brought her, dropped her off, did not go in with her, and she asked for my name rather than hers, and then called and said they lost the reservation), but it wasn’t really _sincere_. But she’s been machining her technique the last few days, since her efforts to fall while on a walk with me have been completely stymied. The appointment was at 10 am, so that I could help with the entire get A. out the door process, and I should have realized that this was a bad idea, because I had to limit her access to A. years ago after an incident on Cape Cod (I think that was the same trip she trash talked me to my own sister, which is a whole other story). The target this time was a combo of Disrupt All Family Relationships and Prevent A. from Getting to School on Time.
Here’s how it went down.
She knew she needed a smaller bag for the few day trip up for the wedding, and she knew she was bringing a large checked bag so she didn’t have to have multiple bags. She asked if we had something; I said, yes, and all she would have to do is stack up what she was bringing, I’d take a look at it and I’d get her an appropriate bag. Everyone who knows me knows I Love Bags and own a ton of them, and I often give them away to people who need, borrow, and like. So I wanted to make absolutely certain that whatever I gave her was cheap to replace, which, increasingly, is not true of many of my bags. But it _is_ true of A.’s bags.
Instead of actually asking me, she asked R. when I was not around, and he got her a G-Ro. I assumed he gave her his, and didn’t really think much of it figuring he planned to bring a duffel and a suiter. But no, he gave her the Office, which is 100% inappropriate for the intended use; it’s a rolling laptop plus case, the plus including space for maybe one outfit, but NOT 3 pairs of shoes, a CPAP machine and a bunch of other random stuff.
This morning, she decided to do a test pack, which was doomed to failure and which I’m sure she knew would fail. I’ve seen this woman gauge volume; she’s good at it. She 100% knew this wouldn’t work, which was important to her plan, which was to pack, fail, and then have T. go track down another bag, all while R. and I were getting ready to get A. out the door, MIL to the hair salon, drink tea, coffee, relax and do duolingo, etc. We were available; they just chose not to tell us what they needed, _even tho_ she had agreed to the plan, and the plan was, “Stack up your stuff and get me and I’ll get you a bag.” When R. got her the Office, he had (I asked, later) a funny feeling — he knew something was up, but it seemed innocent at the time (which it really looked like — it happened while I was out of the house, we share the closet, I have no problem with him getting into my stuff, etc.). The excitement was planned for this morning, and deployed when it would maximally damage getting to the hair appointment calmly and enjoyably, and getting A. out the door. She had a big Apology Scene all planned, and tears all lined up. But I have this woman’s number.
When I was told that T. and C. were in my closet, I went up, evicted them, and when there was the inevitable complaining from T., I said, “Rude”, and he started hyperventilating. I told him to show me the bag and the stuff, because they were in his room and he doesn’t like me going into his room (which I pointed out as hypocritical because he was deep into my closet and I’ve told him before he’s not supposed to be there). Once I saw the Office, I was like, what? And true to form, C. had carefully put her shoes into the laptop compartment, so I’m going to have to vacuum the sand out of there now. *sigh*
Anyway. I retrieved A.’s roller after asking if I could borrow it, and repacked her stuff, realized that if the CPAP machine was in the small bag, the breathing cord might be crushed, so I took it out, got my tote with the luggage strap that sits nicely on top of the roller, put the CPAP and etc. into the tote, and everything else into the roller and it was all set. I had Words with T. I told R. that MIL is not allowed back into the house after this trip is over (she can come back from the wedding days, but not Future Trips, because she should never get on a plane again, honestly, and professionals should be involved in keeping her safe). I told C. that she was likely to be late and she could blame it on grandma chaos and it would be fine. She felt bad, and that she should be better able to keep up with her morning routine without help, and I pointed out that three adults (or 4, depending on how you count) were involved in the morning’s chaos, so she really did not need to feel bad at all.
I went downstairs and smiled at MIL, and said, we can go to the salon now, and thanked her for being all ready to go, and she cued up her Apology Scene, and I said some things. I said, adrenaline will really wake you up, even better than coffee! I also said, “I don’t care about whether you’re sorry. We’re going to go to the Salon and Chrissy’s going to take good care of you and you’re beautiful already but if getting your hair done is what you want, you’re going to get that.” And I want to be clear, I did this all with complete sincerity and a pleasant and happy tone. I didn’t bring up anything about how she failed to comply with a simple directive to tell me when she was ready to get a smaller bag. I told her that she would have A.’s roller and my tote so she would be color coordinated (they match her dress fairly well) and lovely right down to her luggage. I absolutely said nothing at all about her disruption to the morning’s routine, because I knew 110% that that was Part of Her Plan and the best way to stymie that now was to pretend like it didn’t even happen.
I _expect_ her to destroy A.’s roller. But she might not — she sometimes declines to take the obvious target. But if she does, I’ve already got a planned response. “Oh, what a pity! I was going to offer to give that to you if you liked it.”
Anyway. If she pulls something truly appalling at Moodz, it’s fine. They have nutty people through there on the regular, and I tip heavily and I have told plenty of MIL stories. More likely, she’ll trash talk me to them while trying to present as long-suffering and etc., and Chrissy will make sympathetic noises and tell me all about it if she remembers in a a month or two.
I’m right on the fence about whether to risk a walk with her today, and trying to figure out something to say to convince her that hurling herself at the ground is not the Clever Sympathy Ploy she thinks it will be. The obvious thing is, “If you hurl yourself at the ground, MIL, I’m putting you on the next plane back to Ft. Lauderdale. And I do mean _the next plane_. No wedding. No further stay here. No nothing.” But that might just encourage her to hurt herself badly enough to need to stay at a hospital for a few days, which would complicate returning her. Another choice risks punishing myself: “If you hurl yourself at the ground, I won’t let you go to Maine, I’ll be too worried about you.”
Maybe I’ll send R. on a walk with her. She’s usually on her best behavior with him. Or T. Hmmm.