Road Beaker. Like a Road Soda. Only. Not.
This last month has been a bit of a whirlwind. And right in the middle of it, just like the Big One that hit Oz, I had to spend time with my MIL. I think we have agreed to just quietly dislike each other and talk about that fact behind each others back.
Whatever.
The day after they left, I actually found myself humming for the first time in … years? Probably since before the first miscarriage. Was it the fact that I finally got some sleep? Or that the Wellbutrin has kicked in? Or was it simply the fact that we had survived another yearly FOX news filled visit from the in-laws.
It was a lot like that first day after your period. The cramps are gone, the bleeding has subsided and you no longer feel like randomly murdering strangers for simply being cheerful.
I try so very hard to be a good MIL. I am hoping I can learn by bad example. I will strive to NOT do anything mine do and perhaps, in the end, my DIL’s won’t feel the need to sage the place when I leave or jab needles into little dolls made to my likeness.
What is your relationship with your MIL? You DIL? What would make it better? Or is the MIL vs DIL battle just meant to be? Hatfields vs McCoys? Is there just no stopping this age old battle?
Please. Tell me your stories. Make me feel normal.
Mine refers to herself in the third fucking person.
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