I Divorced His Family

Let me start by saying that some of this was written by me with truth, humor and lots of sarcasm and the other half by Evil Mami – I’m not saying who wrote what.
 
We all know how difficult families can be. There is drama, hypocrisy, rudeness and a plethora of who knows what else and I hate that crap.  Yesterday’s visit from HIS parents prompted me to write this post and I just wanna say that I fucking HATE his family. I do not refer to them as In-laws or reference anything to do with family. They are the Out-laws or his family or those people or the old bags, mainly her-but you get the idea.

Things were ok until Buggy was born and so much of the crap that has happened I blame on my husband – the enabler, the why can’t we all get along.



Sometimes it felt like I had this child for them. Remember this scene from the Lion King?  I’ve felt like that with hubby presenting Buggy to his parents.  Before Buggy was born we only saw his family maybe once a month. They live about 20 minutes from us but the drama they create well let’s just say you can build a mini series from it. Having lost my parents I would encourage my husband to see his family more often –lesson learned here – be careful what you wish for, and since the birth of our daughter that’s exactly what has happened. Having my daughter has been the best thing that’s happened to me especially since she was 5 years in the making having to go through an ectopic, a stroke and finally In Vitro, but for the last 21 months its been a fucking nightmare dealing with those people. Buggy is their first granddaughter, their g-sons are 16 & 21 and she is actually the first girl on both sides. One of his sisters has the boys and both my sisters have two boys each– my older sister gave birth to a stillborn daughter. 

It has been constant disrespect with those people. No matter what I say about my daughter they do whatever they want. When she was younger they used to buy their own baby food or feed her things that I had not given her yet even though I always sent food with her. So what if she has an allergic reaction? They don’t even ask me if its ok or even tell me about it after wards. If there is an emergency they won’t be able to explain it to the 911 operator,they can barely speak English.  They have all these Portuguese traditions or whatever you call it that they try and do when she is with them, for example – you cannot stand in front of the window –even when its 90 degrees because you can catch a cold. Yup she used to tell me that when I was pregnant –hmmm yea ok. You cannot eat soup and then have the air conditioner on cuz you will get sick.  Its traditional for the God-Mother to dress the child on baptismday . Hubby told his sister it was ok before discussing it with me. I waited 5 years and went through hell to have this baby and she may be my only child and he thought I was going to be ok with that- I don’t F*kn think so.  Take your traditions and shove them up your ass! That’s fine for his sisters – not me. Hubby’s mother is afraid of EVERYTHING and when Buggy is there its always hey, be careful or hey don’t do that or whatever. I am a free spirit and laid back and I’m raising our daughter that way. She is learning from her mistakes. If she jumps on the couch and falls she learns to be careful.  She is hysterically funny and is the happiest baby ever. When she was learning how to walk she came home with a huge bruise on her forehead and they never ever said anything to us about it and hubby wouldn’t ask his parents about it either.  I understand she is going to fall but just tell me about will ya!

My biggest gripe is they call her Maria. That is not her name. That’s not even a nickname. This is a constant battle with them since she was born – again the disrespect.  They used to call me that and I put a stop to it. My name is Irene so it says on my birth certificate. If you can’t say it in English say it in Spanish but don’t call me Maria.  She would tell me that it’s a Portuguese thing. They call everyone Maria. Really how about I call you Old Bag then. That will be my Puerto Rican thing then! Buggy’s real name is Emery.

E-M-E-R-Y! How fucking hard is that! Say it in Spanish if you can’t pronounce it. All my relatives in Puerto Rico and my aunts here can say so why the hell can’t you! She can speak and understand Spanish a bit so I know she can say Buggy’s name.  My husband tells me that he tells them all the time but I know he’s full of shit cuz every single damn time that I have been there it’s Maria and I have to tell them again to stop calling her that. He tries to tell me that because of their accent it sounds like Maria. Really, how about I bitch slap you so that your hearing is adjusted. So back in March after not seeing them since Christmas we dropped Buggy off at his parents to meet friends for dinner. Not 2 minutes of us arriving his father was calling her Maria. So I nicely kept telling them that is not her name so please stop calling her Maria. I don’t want her thinking her name is Maria. So he laughed at me and said “I don’t care – Maria Maria Maria” – ha ha ha. oh really, so ha ha ha – I fucking went off on his ass and the old bag too and she didn’t dare say a word to me. Hubby was telling me that he was telling them not to call her Maria but I didn’t hear that. I was livid! I ripped into him later. He lets them do whatever they want and that shit doesn’t fly with me – again think Lion King. She’s my daughter. They have the nerve to tell hubby that I make them uncomfortable so they don’t want to come up – Really, are you Fucking kidding me. The shit they have put me through –oy.  She is a sly old women and the last time I saw her she only spoke to me Portuguese so I just ignored her. Your in America lady speak the damn language or get out!

So yesterday during my leisure time of taking care of four dogs, my toddler and my neighbors kid I must have smoked some crack at some point and suggested to my husband that he should invite the outlaws up so that they can see Buggy and I can go to the grocery store. He jumped at the chance. That was the first time I had seen them since March. Well that was a mistake. His dad greeted Buggy first and the bastard called her Maria and caught himself. I said what did you call her? He says Emery, I said yea that’s what I thought you said – that dumb ass. The old bag made sure to clearly same Buggy’s name.  Hubby tells me about extending the olive branch – well I just tell him that I HATE olives! That’s it. I’m done. I’ve said it a hundred times but that was just a separation. I have officially divorced them!

I’ve dreamt about their asses moving back to Portugal so many times. They are retired but still that will never happen.  I’ve dreamt about funerals – my husband’s and theirs – ok don’t judge me. Hubby and I have been practically divorced over his family issues many times which is sad. What should have been the most incredible year of our lives has been a torturous one for me. 

Fortunately for me he now realizes what a sneaky, conniving old bag she is thanks to counseling and beating some sense into my husband well I’ve done that many times but it never sunk in – ok maybe that’s another dream I’ve had. I’m now praying for the day we relocate. Seriously now, thanks to blogging and working out again I’m doing great, laughing about it well cuz I’m done crying about it – LOL, and I’ve finally put the committee to bed – you know, those damn voices in your head that wont shut up especially at 3AM!