My Mother-Out-Law

I never got married to the father of my children. I just couldn't bring myself to really and truly believe that anyone should ever promise "forever". As they say, "that's a mighty long time."

Looks like I was right about that one.

I got a phone call from his Mom (who lives in New York), telling me that she will be arriving for a surprise visit on Thursday.

And staying a week.

It's not that I don't enjoy her company........

It's not like I do either.

She is just very hard to be around. She is somewhat angry, somewhat defensive, somewhat sad and somewhat overbearing. All wrapped up in one neat little package.

Here is the story of the first time I met her personally......

I had talked to her over the phone throughout my pregnancy with my oldest. She really wanted to come out, but held off so she could see the baby. I had no opinion whatsoever of the woman, and was just trying to overcome the late stage pregnancy/birth scenario that was looming in my future.

I had a 48 hour labor with darling Maya. I went into the hospital on a Wednesday and gave birth on a Friday... It sucked eggs. Not to mention the fact that not only did I have an episiotomy, but I also tore. I was stitched where people should never, ever have to be stitched. I will not go into detail, but holy hell, it really was awful.

So, I come home with my bundle of joy. I am exhausted. I hurt everywhere. His Mom called, she was on her way.

Now I didn't just jump up and make any huge preparations for her arrival. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. So when she arrived, she walked into the house, snatched the baby from my arms, walked around for a moment and I KID YOU NOT the first words this woman uttered to me after meeting me for the first time were, "White folks never dust their chandeliers."

I was crushed. I was embarrassed. I was even a bit scared of this woman who was so bold.

Five years later, when I was in the middle of my own little self-esteem seminar, I let her have it. I told her comments like that were never to be uttered around me again.

Well, she tries. But it still happens. Everything is in black and white to her. "My white friend" this, "My Jewish friend" that. It astonishes me every damn time.

So, here we go. An entire week of Grandma Henrietta. The girls will be full of questions at the end of this, I'm sure. Wish me luck.