Of course, his happy day began with me screaming at him. Lovely.
Last evening began nicely enough. We went to Lowe’s, shopped through trees, daydreamed a little, made it back home and covered the plants. He hefted all the flower boxes, and pots big and small into the garage. I made ketchup, took a 30-minute call from my cousin, and we petted the dogs and chatted.
And then we talked about his parents’ financial situation. The beginning of the end.
They’re in their late 60s, and are irresponsible with money. They won’t share with their kids just WHAT their financial circumstances are (wouldn’t you have your house paid off after 40 years, though?), and their kids are beginning to wonder when the other shoe will drop, or how long it will be before they have to declare bankruptcy and move in with one of us.
My in-laws are pretty self-delusional, prideful and ostrich-like when it comes to planning for the future. I can’t say as I blame them– who knew time would catch up with them?
Plus, my MIL’s retirement plan seems to be limited to Death. She has already said repeatedly, “It’s too late to get our finances in order, and what does it matter anyway? I’ll be dead in 5 years.” She’ll only wish she was, when she has to eat catfood to maintain the image that “everything’s fine.”
So H and I fought a little last night. He kept saying conflicting things like, “My parents are going to do what they’re going to do. We have to try to help them, but we should give up when they resist, because who cares whether they’re poor? They won’t be a burden on us, we’ll just send them $200 or $300 a month, or they’ll live with my sisters, or we won’t send them anything at all, because they’ll be just fine. We have to save what we can for our retirement (gee, would $200 or $300 a month help?). Yes, they’re horrible with money, but they’ll get by, they always have. We need to find them a neutral, financial counselor, but I’m too busy these days.”
His parents are drowning. I saw it that day when my MIL was crying about losing her job. My FIL was yelling at her about her spending (even though he’s about to spend $200 on a PGA ticket), and how she had to take a firm line with her boss (?!). Easy for him to say, went MIL, he’s already retired and drawing Social Security.
Anyway, I wound up sleeping on the couch last night. And I was ticked this morning, still. We both forgot it was his birthday, and we wound up carrying on with the fighting. Then, he remembered his birthday and he shoved it in my face. I was mortified, guilty. It was awful.
And then, in about 20 minutes from the time it started this morning, we were over it, pretty quick. That’s one nice thing about our marriage. We both admit fault. We don’t seem to learn as much from our mistakes as we need to, but I think we both got scared.
It’s weird. We can be spitting-mad at each other, having just said nasty things and thrown pillows and newspapers, and during a pause, we’ll catch each other’s eye somehow and start laughing sometimes. It’s rare, but it’s happened several times.
Then, there are the fights where we forget we’re engaged in fighting. Like, we’ll yell and scream and fume, and then engage in “the silent treatment.” That also sometimes results in giggles, but a lot of times, we’ll get busy and 15 minutes later, we’ll start talking like nothing happened. (”Doh! I forgot, I’m doing the ’silent treatment!’ Oh well.”)
This was one of those mutual, “Oh, shi+. I can’t believe I’m such a heel. He/she has a point. Lord, how could I be so horrible? How can he/she be so horrible? What’s wrong with us? We need to start treating each other a lot better!” Which is better than the lonely, yet self-righteous, “What a hag/heel! I’d be much better off without her/him, without a shred of doubt!”
I still feel icky about yelling at him. Creepers. I don’t know why he puts up with me sometimes. I guess because I indulge his poker, golf, and workaholic habits, I don’t make him go to my work functions, don’t make him socialize with my friends and their husbands, and we generally have a good time with each other about 60 percent of the time we HAVE AVAILABLE to spend with each other. And I’m pretty funny. He’s pretty funny, too. Really funny, as a matter of fact. We often riff off of each other.
He’s also become more open to trying new things. Except for dance classes. I got a little pissed off when he laughed so hard at that prospect.
*Sigh* Blahbiddy-blah-blah-blah.
196 is what the scale said this a.m. I did the 6WBMO plan “perfectamundo” yesterday, and I’m trying to do the same thing today.
UPCOMING PITFALL: Tonight is Supper Club with the girls. The menu might as well be named “fat food,” with chocolate fondue, crabby muffins, and I’m supposed to bring mini-pizzas. Damn.
What I’m doing tonight INSTEAD, is: I’m going to bring my turkey meatloaf with rice and salt-free, sugar-free ketchup that I made last night, and 2 cups of frozen veggies, along with cut-up celery and carrots. And a banana for dessert. And lots of water.
Posted on April 29th, 2008 by nike
Filed under: in-laws
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