My Mother: The Mother In-law

My mother is not my mother in-law, but she sure fits some of those stereotypes of a mother in-law... whatever that may be. Whenever she comes to visit, the stress level in our house rises 10 notches. And she was here over the holidays. If you noticed, I haven't posted for the past couple of weeks. Too busy trying to keep everyone happy, including my mother.

Which stereotype does she fit into, you ask? That is kind of hard. She is not a cookie cutter sort of woman. She is not mean or angry... thats me. Really, it is hard to describe my mother. I guess she is a good mix of a lot of those Mother in-law stereotypes. I do know, she is good at getting under my skin and making my husband's blood simmer (to put it mildly!). Actually, I think that is why my older daughter loves her so much.

When I was a teen, her favorite pastime was embarrassing me in front of my friends (note: my dad could do this without trying). When we were trying out the latest dance moves, my mother would come and join us. Never catching on to the latest moves, but just doing her own unique, out-of-style dances. I would watch her face and she would have this little grin that told me she knew she was making my life miserable. Not to mention her singing. Oh! I just knew it was coming when she would pick my friends and I up from school to take us home. On our way, she would let us play our favorite radio station, which was cool.... but she would sing along (not cool) and sing all the wrong words (very uncool). I would tell her to "please stop", but I learned quickly, that my balking only fueled her drive to continue on with her embarrassing behavior. What do you do with a mother like that?

Anyway, as a Mother in-law she pressures my husband into shopping at the grocery store for things she doesn't need. She feels we don't have things that she can eat during her visit, even though, her breakfast, lunch and dinner is prepared for her and she eats it happily.

Just the thought of my husband and my mother at the store makes me laugh. My husband treats the grocery store like a corn maze--one you have to get through quickly (When I shop with him, he always manages to get the cart. Two minutes later, I am 2-3 aisles behind, with an arm full of food.). On the other hand, my mother takes her time, stops and samples everything, talks to the worker passing out samples and pretends she is interested in buying. (What am I talking about, she's not pretending, she sticks the product in the cart and moves on to the next sample!) During the process, she manages to spill food on her shirt and wears it like a badge of honor as she continues her shopping. Meanwhile, my husband is at the other end, the "finish line" and has all the groceries he thinks we need. Thank goodness they have their own carts.

When they arrive home, my husband unloads his 2 bags of groceries and helps my mother carry in her 10 bags of groceries and gives me a look. "The look." Let me translate that for you: I will turn into my Mother someday and if that happens, he will have to buy another house in a different country, in order to maintain sanity.