So I don’t know what’s going on with me, but in the year since all this drama went down, I have been sort of…OK…with everything surrounding my MIL. I think after it all died down, I decided that I would not let it bother me. I would not let it take up space in my head. I know what she thinks about me. I know she’ll never like me, so…OK. I choose not to think about all the dumb little ways she puts me down, and either to laugh at them or just not to care, or both.
So, with Passover approaching, I didn’t do what I usually do. Usually I say, “Please let me know when you’re setting up—I’d love to help.” And she says she’s got it covered and then invites every girl in the family but me to help set up, even though I LOVE setting tables. This year, I didn’t even mention it. When it all went down, my husband told her it means a lot to me to be included when the whole family sets up for holidays. It didn’t change her approach—she still didn’t invite me—but it did change mine. I’m not offering anymore, and I don’t care. I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted, anyway.
Usually, I say, “What can I bring?” And she grudgingly assigns me a vegetable, which I then knock out of the park and everyone raves about, because it’s the only thing on the menu that contains actual spices and seasonings. This year, I didn’t offer. And I don’t care if her menu is bland. I’m not offended; I’m not butthurt. I’m not going to get all histrionic about it.
So last night we all had to go to dinner with them, and my husband was trying to be helpful. He said, to me in front of my MIL, “Are you bringing anything tomorrow?” I wish he hadn’t because I was trying to go into this with dignity, but he was trying to be helpful. I directed my answer to my MIL, and said, “I can, if you need something.” She said she has it covered. Of course she does. She doesn’t need me to bring anything. Then my SIL, who I have been cool with for the past year, said, “It’s OK because I’m bringing a pesto dish this year.”
Now. Deep breath, because talking about this actually makes me care, and these people just aren’t allowed into my head anymore. But let me just say many years ago I brought a wonderful salad, with kale, lemon juice, quinoa, mangoes, tomatoes, edamame, avocados—it was a great salad, healthy and delicious, and everyone loved it. I brought it a couple of times and eventually my MIL, in classic MIL fashion, turning it around on me, said, “Oh that salad is a lot of work or you—I’ll make it this time.” And I lost the salad that everyone loved.
A few years ago, I MADE UP a Passover recipe involving fingerling potatoes, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, mushrooms, diced cauliflower, which I roasted and then tossed in a lemony kale pesto. These people are assholes about their health foods, and their kosherness, their strict keeping of Passover rules, and are just really hard to cook for. So they all loved the roasted vegetables in the kale pesto. It IS good. My kids eat it. Everyone eats it. So when my SIL wanted the recipe, OF COURSE I shared it, because I’m not an asshole. So now I’ve lost that too.
And I truly don’t care. This means I can spend my day doing something other than cooking. And they are NOT ALLOWED in my head anymore. I keep them at arm’s length, show up when I’m expected to, but I’m not going to let it all get to me anymore. I can’t control who brings what to the Passover menu, but I can control how I react to it, and my choice is not to worry about it.
But…isn’t that so rude? And I don’t know what I ever did to this woman to make her hate me so much. I tried to join her family and her religion. I gave her three beautiful grandchildren. I love her son. I do everything for my family. What did I do wrong with her? In my heart I know the problem is her, so I feel sorry for her. But…why am I not making my own kale pesto vegetable recipe that I made up, when she knows just bringing anything means a lot to me?
Last year in that fateful phone call, she told my husband, “I’ve done 15 years worth of trying,” (meaning she has tried to have a good relationship with me, but I’m the difficult one). Here’s the deal, though. My husband has told her flat out, both in the past and that day, “It means a lot to Twinkle to be included when the family sets up.” “It means a lot to contribute food to family parties.” So if she really cared, and she really were trying, she would have done those things initially, and in the past year more than ever. I can say that I have tried to be gracious to her n the past year. Cautiously gracious, because I don’t want her too close, but I have gone above and beyond to try to treat her like a normal member of my family, and not to be hurt when she doesn’t reciprocate.
Also…maybe I have said this before, but in my family—a normal family—we all have our signature dishes. Beth is great at making potato salad. Marilyn, who lives on a farm, makes corn pudding with corn from her garden for Thanksgiving dinner. My mother was known for her deviled eggs. My grandmother was the expert at Benedictine sandwiches. No one tries to take these away. No one dictates from above who should bring what, and when one person masters a signature dish, it doesn’t later get assigned to someone more favored. Everything on the menu is delicious, and all the glory is shared. Actually, no one really needs glory in my family, because they’re all secure in themselves. Compliments are given freely and genuinely, so everyone feels valued.
But, according to her, we’re the dysfunctional ones and I can’t help my actions because that’s just how I was raised.
I would also like to point out that my brother-in-law, who she damaged her relationship with (as probably recorded here on Daddy Rabbit), isn’t even coming in for Passover. He gets out of coming here every chance he gets, because of her.
It’s really ok. I can choose not to get all upset about it, but I just had to record the toxic, petty, manipulative ways she belittles me and tries to keep me down. She can’t though, if I don’t let her. Also, that salad went way downhill when she took it over, because she doesn’t follow the recipe exactly and reduces things she finds less healthy (in a kale salad containing tomatoes, quinoa, mangoes, edamame, and avocado…she doesn’t use enough dressing because the dressing has a little bit of sugar or agave in it). So anyway, the salad I introduced to the family sucks now, and I don’t have high hopes for the kale pesto dish either.
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