Part 3 - The Letter

~-~The Letter~-~

Dear MIL,

Ever since before I met you, I have wanted to tell you what has been on my mind about my husband's past, his childhood, and the role you played in it.

You constantly tell me that you were a good mother, and that you don't know why your son dislikes you so much. You wonder why he doesn't send you cards or call for your birthday or mother's day. You don't understand why he wants nothing to do with you. Well today, I am going to tell you.

I want to start out by saying that a good mother is not someone who willingly buys her underage children booze, porn, cigarettes, or lets their girlfriend sleep over while lying to her parents. If you think that is what constitutes a good mother, it is no wonder you think you earned that badge. But that is not, by any stretch of the imagination, what makes a mother good.

You taught your son very early on what it is to be abandoned. To be left behind for a selfish life. That your own happiness meant more to you than he did. You did not show him what love was. Instead, you taught him how to close himself off emotionally. For that, I thank you. Why do I thank you? Because I am now tasked with trying to break down an incredibly thick and tall wall to access my husband's feelings and emotions. He is apathetic about most things in this life, and I am paying the price for your lack of mothering. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen him genuinely happy: our wedding day and the day we brought our daughter home from the hospital. The rest of the time, he is so reserved, it makes you wonder if he cares about much in life outside of me and his baby.

You taught him that he should eat his meals as quickly as possible without taking a single sip of water by bringing his abusive step-dad into the picture, who beat the shit out of him if he didn't eat his meals fast enough. The same man who made him eat his own vomit when he ate too fast. You stood by and did nothing. You taught him you didn't care. Is that what makes a good mother to you? Does providing him with condoms in high school make up for that? Is that seriously what you think? What part of that is what a good parent would do?

You were not the one who taught him how to be responsible with money. In fact, you did the opposite when you robbed his piggy bank to feed your pot addiction. You were not the one who taught him to be an upstanding citizen, your mother did. You were not the one who taught him how to be a man, your mother did. You did nothing for him except give him life, and not a very good one at that.

A good mother leads by example. She teaches her children how to grow up with dignity and respect. She teaches them manners, and how to be responsible in money, relationships, and life. A good mother protects her children at all costs. She puts her children's needs before her own. A good mother is nurturing and compassionate.

So please, stop telling me you were a good mother, because the next time you do, I am going to send this letter to you. I will have you read every word in hopes that you can reflect back on what a "good" mother you were and apologize to your son AND me. I want you to see the damage you have done to him emotionally and the toll that takes on me as his wife. I pray it doesn't take a toll on our children, but it will. And we have you and your wonderful mothering skills to thank for that.

You make me angry. You make me seethe the way no one else can. You made this bed, and now you must lie in it.

In closing, I would like to ask that you please not call my husband and shout at him for things that have gone on between you and I again. The last time you called him to yell that I had sent pictures of the baby to everyone but you made me really angry. Especially considering in our last communication I told you I was done, and that I would not be sending you any more pictures or updates. That I would not inform you the next time we got pregnant, or anything about any future grandchildren unless you pulled your head out and made some very sincere apologies. If you have a beef with me, CALL ME. WE will hash it out, not you and my husband. You have already done enough to him.

As always, I wish you all the best in what is left of your life.

Part 2 - My Husband is Born

~-~My Husband's life~-~

My husband was born to a very young mother who lived a hippy lifestyle to the max. I am sure she was there at Wo.odstock smoking doobies with the best of them when she met his dad, whom she married only to piss off her dad. She had been born into a life that gave her the opportunity to become whatever she wanted. They had wealth. Instead, she chose to skip school and party, scraping by a meager living. Then she gave birth to my husband. She had no idea what it meant to be a mother.

When my husband was about 2, his dad left the picture for good. Because my MIL had never bothered to make anything of herself, she could not raise my husband alone. A couple of years later, she dropped him on his grandparent's doorstep and left the picture to pursue a selfish life of pot and booze. This was the only good thing she ever really did for him.

Over the next few years, his grandma taught him to be responsible in all things. She taught him how to be a man, took him to swim lessons, and took care of him the way a mother should.

Then one day his mother decided she was ready to take him back when she shacked up with an extremely abusive man. Together, they eeked out a living, and she gave birth to my husband's half brother. For the next 8 years of his life, his step father beat the ever living shit out of him, while his mother stood by and did nothing.

When he was 13 years old, his step-dad left the picture, and left behind his bastard son, whom my husband had learned to loathe over the years. He then went into a lifestyle that would befit someone with his background, he became a hooligan who thought it was fun to be chased by cops, blow up frogs, and all sorts of other stupid things.

Then one day, he decided he didn't want that life. He wanted the kind where he would get married, have a family, be prosperous, and happy. He determined he wanted to be nothing like his mother. If she drank, he didn't want anything to do with it. If she smoked, he steered clear. If she liked sports, he hated them. Anything but to be like her.

His childhood was nothing like mine. Yet somehow, by the grace of God, he turned into a very fine, upstanding man who is well respected. He is an amazing father, and he loves his daughter so much. I can't imagine he has ever felt such love in his life for anything. It is incredible to look at his past and see who he has become. So very different from the path his mother set him on.

He too, is a phoenix.

Part 1 - I Am Born

As you all know, I like to do series posts on this blog. Today while I was cleaning my kitchen, I thought of some things I would like to say to a certain person in my life, but I figure before I can get that out, I need to give some background. So today is part 1 of a 3-part series.

~-~My Life~-~

Growing up, I had the perfect childhood. I lived in a family that loved the Lord, was close knit, full of love, respect, was well-off financially, and all of those other good things. My parents made sure us kids never did without. The girls had dance and piano lessons, and the boys were in little league. We all had more toys than we ever knew what to do with. If we wanted our own pet, we pretty much had it. I had a dog, my sister had a cat, I had fish out the wazoo. My parents took great pride in their children and being part of our lives. Now that I am a mother, I understand just how much my parents loved me. I thought I knew how deep their love was before, but now I realize I had no idea.

My dad and I have always been very close. We have so much in common. We both love dogs, which no one else in our family shares the way we do. When I was in middle school, I wanted a 10-gallon fish tank, so I bought one. My dad and I spent the next several years maintaining and upgrading it together. It was filled with all kinds of crazy fish, newts, frogs, crabs, etc, but the best part was how much it brought us together, and how much fun we had with it.

When I started the 7th grade, I got to pick between being in band or choir. I wanted to be in the band so I could play trumpet like my dad and his dad. Over the next 10 years, my dad nurtured my talent. He was so proud of me, and I gave him every reason to be proud.

My parents taught me how to be responsible, to have dignity and respect. They led by example.

I grew up very close to all of my siblings, but especially my little brother. We have always said we should have been twins, even though we were born four years apart. We are two evil peas in an evil pod. Where one of us went, the other was never far behind. I always told him he was my favorite gift from God, the best thing my parents ever gave me, and that God knew what he was doing when he put us together.

My family was the family everyone always dreams of being part of. Sure we had our crazy moments, our fights, our drama, and everything else that every other family has, but we always had love, and loads of it. I always look back on my childhood fondly. I was raised right by parents who loved their children more than anything. I have learned how to be an awesome mother by the lessons my parents taught me as they parented me over the years. They are awesome parents, and I hope that my children look back on their childhoods as fondly as I do mine. I hope they tell me one day, "I hope I am as good of a mother as you are," because that is what I tell my parents.

My family life has made my life a great life, and I am thankful.