Day 214 - Love One Another - Even My Mother-in-Law?

When I first married my husband, my mother-in-law (MIL) really, really liked me...for the most part. I wasn't as refined a gal as she would've liked for her Golden Son, but I would suffice. She spent days, if not weeks, preparing a heart-felt letter to my mother telling all about her wonderful, glorious, magnificent son complete with photos and a short biography of his life.

I didn't have the silver spoon upbringing that my husband had, and MIL found my manners lacking in certain areas and was more than happy to show me the err of my ways. If I ended a sentence with a prepositional phrase, she corrected my grammar. I didn't dress as classy or showy as she'd hoped her son's wife might, so she took time to tell me how to dress sometimes.

If I was bloated, she told me that I was bloated and gave me some baking soda and water to drink. My natural hair color is, according to MIL, called "dishwater blonde," and suggested that I use Miss Clairol hair color to perk it up a bit. She told me how to properly bleach my teeth so that they were white but not too white, and how to properly set a table when it was dinner time.

When my children were born, she sent frilly dresses and bows for their hair...and as they grew older, she still sent frilly dresses and bows for their hair, despite the fact that although they were girls in the traditional sense of the word, they loved to play in the dirt and have the wind in their hair. If their pretty patent-leather dress shoes hurt their feet and I wanted to remove them and let them go barefoot, she would say, "That's the price you pay for beauty!"

Once, during a "family" vacation with her side of the family, everyone gathered for a photo: My MIL, my husband, and my children...but not me. She did not want to include me in the photo. I'm not a blood relative, she said.

Another time on one of these family vacations with her side of the family, my own parents wanted to drive down to visit for a day. She wouldn't allow it. After all, it was HER time with us and not my mother's and father's time with us. And when I say "us," I am meaning my husband and my children.

When my middle daughter was born, my MIL and I took a leisurely stroll downtown with the girls. We chatted about the weather or shallow things like this. MIL asked me, "What are your plans for future children?" I replied that I would love to have one more one day. MIL grabbed my wrist, stopped me in my tracks, and said, "You can't do that to my Son."

My MIL even had a sit-down discussion on how to please her son in our marital bed.

And yes, you read that right.

My MIL was always eager to belittle me or make me feel inadequate any chance she got. I was once kicked out of the kitchen by her because she said I was getting in her way and I should just wait my turn. And yes, you read that right, too.

I would often discuss these matters to my husband, teary-eyed and begging for him to step in and resolve this conflict that was building and building every year of our marriage. But his excuses were always, "I didn't hear her say that," or "I wasn't a party to what happened, so I'm not going to say anything to her."

Well, after years of escalating controlling behavior by my MIL...I blew. I talked back to my MIL, challenging her and drawing a line in the sand that she was never to cross again.

From then on, it's been World War III in our relationship. And I can't seem to make it any better.

Shortly after the War began, my MIL came out to visit...but not at our home like she normally did. She was 2 hours West of our home and invited my husband and the girls to come spend time with her. She even bought my husband a guided fly fishing trip as a dangling carrot before him -- which he snarfed up without further thought to me.

My husband, despite my pleas and cries, packed up our children and drove away, leaving me at home alone.

I couldn't believe it. I was devastated. I was crushed. I was deflated beyond deflated.

I spent the weekend looking for apartments to move into. I spent the weekend cranking out numbers to see which apartment I could afford to live in with my children. I spent time figuring out what my child support from husband would be and how we could live off of that.

In the end, I stayed. Not because I wanted to stay, though...I stayed because I couldn't afford to leave.

It wasn't too long after this that we visited my father-in-law and his wife. My FIL knew a bit of the battle raging, and he said to my husband, "Son, who do you sleep with at night? And I know it isn't your mother."

That was all it took for my husband to realize that he had joined the wrong team, abandoned the wrong teammate.

My husband has spoken with his mother about all of this one-on-one...and she has even acknowledged her wrong-doings...but she still won't forgive me for treating her with harsh words and drawing that line in the sand.

It has been nearly 3 years now since we have spoken to each other. We avoid each other during the holidays, and we do not acknowledge each other's birthdays any longer. We used to send one another Christmas gifts...but no more.

I want my children to know their grandmother, so I do not prohibit their phone calls or visits...but I don't encourage them, either. My MIL can give poor advice that I don't want my children to listen to, like "It's just as easy to marry a poor man as it is a rich man when you're beautiful."

My MIL will be coming out to our state again this summer, staying 2 hours away as usual. She has already asked that the girls come and join her, and she requests that my husband come, as well.

But I have drawn a line in the sand with my husband, too: Meet her halfway and drop the children off. You will NOT leave me at home alone again.

He promises this time will be different...but his mother has long apron strings and I'm not certain that my husband has fully cut them.

I have been praying lately about my relationship with my MIL...that God would restore it. We shall see.

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"Therefore shall a man leave his mother and father and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh." Genesis 2:24

cleave: to adhere, cling, stick to.