--- Why do you people always seem to get the shaft on Wednesdays? I
apologize for not getting around to blogging yesterday. The mother in
law is in town, adding her usual blend of fun and frivolity to the
blandness of January. She's staying with the husband's sister, across
town, but if she can tear herself away from grocery shopping and
watching the niece's dance classes, she usually works her way over here
once or twice, we feed her and then two hours later she goes back to
the safe haven of Eagan. I've mentioned before that I don't think my
mother in law likes me all that much. Well, let me revise that. I think
she likes me, she just doesn't know what to do with me. I'm the
opposite of her, and while she's mellowing with age, and while I'm
still not her favorite inlaw, I don't think I repulse her to the level
I used to. Thank God for small favors, eh? Now, I don't know why anyone
would leave the nice warm haven of Phoenix for Minnesota in January,
but my mother in law makes this pilgramage north every year because she
doesn't get to have Christmas with her grandkids. My brother in law has
made a firm rule: his family spends Christmas in their
house---not anyone else's. So, no one travels to Arizona for the
holidays. Now, this wouldn't be a problem, usually. We've been pulling
this trick successfully for years, but they have to live up to higher
expectations---they've used their reproductive systems successfully and
have produced cute grandkids. Whom the mother in law dotes on. The
father in law, an island of sanity in the midst of an ocean of
Grandma-love, further thwarts the mother in law's Christmassy ambitions
by demanding to be in his home for the holiday. And since he
authorizes all plane ticket purchases, the mother in law is frustrated
and sad that she doesn't see her grandbabies twinkling under their
Christmas tree. But only for a time. First few weeks in January,
though, she's always here. She can't wait any longer to see her babies
and my father in law has generally had enough of her pleading by this
time and just wants her to go!
The inlaws move to Phoenix has been a recent one---they've lived there
for about three years now, but they used to live in Des Moines, which
is about a four hour drive from here. They used to drive up once a
month or so to see the grandbabies, which, of course, drove my brother
in law up the wall. The sister in law is too nice to say "No. Stop
coming up here all the effing time! This is not a goddamn Holiday Inn!"
So, the move to Phoenix let them off the hook---a bit. They go down
there once a year and the mother in law comes up here three or four
times. Her next visit, if she follows patterns set in recent years,
will be in April or May. The father in law will accompany her once---in
August. And then the rest of the year will be a crapshoot. Now, they're
good people, they just don't get out much, so they're not the most
exciting people to spend time with. It's a big evening if they stay out
later than nine. And boy! Phew. They'll be dragging the next day!
Yessirree! They're the antithesis of my family. My family is loud,
obnoxious and pretty laid back. We're insane, yes, but have a beer and
you too can join in the insanity. If things don't work out for a visit
this time around, well, we don't sweat it, we'll catch you next time.
This is not how the in-laws work. Everything must be carefully
coordinated, planned, plotted and made to be the best visit ever!
I've noticed that if we can't come over to see the mother in law when
she's visiting, for whatever reason, she feels slighted. Now, I don't
know if this is just their thing or if all smaller families
work this way. It's odd. They just can't come over for a regular
weeknight dinner. It must be a carefully plotted extravanganza, with
all four food groups present, dessert, and of course, coffee. So,
yesterday I cleaned. My mother in law has only recently started to use
my bathroom on visits over here and I want her to keep
using it. This no doubt sounds very weird, but not with my mother in
law. You worry about this sort of stuff with her. The occasion seems to
demand it for some strange reason. Now, I've been married to the
husband for almost ten years, and when your mother in law never uses your bathroom, well, you start to wonder why
she doesn't want to pee in your house. Your first thought is if
something's wrong with your bathroom, so you go and take a look and
strive for objectivity. I personally think a visit to my bathroom is a
pleasant experience. I have nice, new, soft yellow hand towels (a
bathroom necessity, I hate to gloat about but I will anyway, she
doesn't even have---she pulls out the old ones whenever family's
visiting, and I mean old ones, from when when brown and orange were the
to-die-for colors in bathroom decor.) I have soap. I have hot water. I
may not chip out for Charmin, but that doesn't mean my Scot brand
toilet paper is inadequate for her usage. (On a completely unrelated
aside, why would anyone use Charmin? Yeah, it's soft and everything but
it sticks to your butt and you have to use a boatload to get anything
done. Waste of MONEY, if you ask me!) So, why didn't she use it? I know
she pees. Contrary to popular thought, she is human; she does have a
bladder. I wondered if was just because she didn't have to go, or that
she has an aversion to using others' restrooms. But, she always has to
go, and she goes at restaurants. I've seen her excuse herself and head
off to the ladies. Curious, I timed her once at her house: every two
hours, so I know the woman pees on a regular basis, so the idea of a
slight against my bathroom had a bit of proof behind it. Then I
realized I had all the proof I needed to back up my prejudice theory,
but I hadn't thought anything of it because I wasn't a coffee drinker
at the time. The mother in law is a coffeeholic. She's Methodist, now,
but was Presbyterian---protestant in other words. I think they hook the
protestants with coffee in the baptismal fount: every protestant I know
drinks loads of coffee. I think they keep Caribou and Starbucks in
business. So, I finally put two and two together and realized that in
the past she's drank at least half a pot of coffee and would then leave
the house for the half hour drive back to Eagan---and wouldn't use the
bathroom before going. It was amazing. I thought for a time she must
have a bladder of galvanized steel, but then I started drinking coffee
and I realized she didn't want to use my bathroom not from a lack of
need, but because she didn't like
to use it. I realized it ultimately came down to cleanliness, or the
perceived lack thereof. I am not a good housekeeper if you use my
mother in law's standards. No one wears shoes in her house, because you
might track dirt in. She cleans her windows---inside and out---every
Thursday. Her house is absolutely spotless. If she had great furniture
and a Jag in the garage, you'd think she chipped out for a Guatemalan
woman named Consuela. But her furniture is like the towels in her
bathroom---old but serviceable. Brown, beige and orange rule the decor
colors, and when they lived in Des Moines, it looked REALLY odd because
they had carpeting that could have been used in the Emerald City. But
the wood is perfect---not a chip or a scratch. The upholstery is worn,
but not threadbare. The mother in law takes care of her house and her
belongings, and I suspect we'll sit on the same living room furniture
when she dies a peaceful death in her sleep at age 96. But my house is
not spotless, nor do I see the reason for it to be so. My windows get
cleaned a few times a year. I don't vacuum and dust daily. I don't mind
clutter and old newspapers sitting on top of the dining room table or
on the floor. I don't make our bed every day. And she'd have a heart
attack if I ever let her in the office. I just don't see the need to
clean all the damn time. Cleaning is boring. I used to do it to pay for
school. It's not something I enjoy or take pleasure in. It's a chore.
But the mother in law is different. In her mind, the cleanliness of a
house is how you judge a person. If they're good, their house will be
clean. If they're bad, they're house is dirty. It's a pretty simple
judgment scale, on the whole, but it's what she knows so it's the
system she uses. I've heard her describe other people's houses as dirty
with her lipsticked mouth screwed up into a moue of distaste, and the
way she said it was enough to show you she didn't think very much of
them. It honestly makes you wonder if these people's houses were really
dirty and if they were really bad people. Because the way the mother in
law described them, and taking into account how freaking clean her
house was, you didn't really know. So, she didn't want to use my
bathroom because, I sussed, it wasn't as clean as she liked them to be.
Well, what the hell was I supposed to do about that? It's clean enough
for me, and while I'm not a big housekeeper, it's not like you're going
to catch toilet cooties by planting your ass on my toilet. If she
doesn't want to use my bathroom, it's not like I was going to shove her
through the damn door and scream, "PEE NOW OR I'M GOING TO BE REALLY
OFFENDED THAT YOU DON'T THINK MY BATHROOM IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!" The
temptation was there, of course, but I didn't do it. But now she uses
it. I don't know what prompted her change in behavior, but she goes
into the bathroom every time she visits and tinkles. So, you might see
where I feel the need to scrub the toilet and sink and mop the floors
to keep her using the bathroom---on top of dusting and vacuuming and
more mopping in the kitchen I mean, we haven't produced any
grandkids---I have to keep her coming over here to see her son somehow, and damn, if this is what's going to do it, I'll do it.
So, there's the longwinded reason why no blog yesterday.
And now, I will leave you until next Monday with this...
HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!
Aren't they cute? See you on Monday where I will regale you with tales of drunken siblings!
Posted by Kathy at January 1, 2004 04:45 PM | TrackBack