I was initially very worried about how my husband and mother would get along. They are both unbearable, they need their own approach. Separately, I know how to keep a good relationship with my mother, and how to please my husband, but both at once…
Before we got married, I lived at my parents’ house, and Frank lived at his, so my mom kind of liked my son-in-law. It was only after they moved in that I began to notice that it was like a cat had run between them.
They moved in with me because Frank has a younger brother who has nowhere to live, and we have only my parents and my husband and I in our house, and we have two whole rooms – enough space for everyone, as well as privacy. But Mom and Frank still find a way to fight. Their favorite place to fight is in the kitchen.
Mom cooks her own food, and Frank wants his own – he’s a great cook. But Mom won’t let him near her stove for the rest of his life. He cooks in secret and then gets reprimanded for it. It’s even worse when he can’t figure out whose shelf is whose and takes something from Mom’s food. She’s never been greedy with us before, but because of Frank, she really counts every bell bell pepper in the bag so she knows if he dares steal.
One time Daddy had the nerve to eat a plum that Mom had bought without warning, so she thought it was my husband and gave Frank a real blowout. She said all sorts of things, and he didn’t stay away either.
So my dad and I are always tiptoeing between them, afraid to interfere so as not to get caught in the crossfire. But it’s impossible to live like this.
That’s why I suggested that Frank go into austerity mode and move out as soon as possible. We were also very lucky to pick up an apartment that friends were moving out of, and the landlord was charging relatively low rent. Everything worked out just right. Apparently, the powers above couldn’t hear Mom and Frank fighting anymore, either.
But the move made them silky again. They are fond of each other, Frank’s mother wants to feed him when he comes to visit, and he buys gifts for her and my father, “thanks” for the fact that we lived with them for six months.
It’s like a miracle. There can still be love and respect at a distance between them.
