furious
July 15, 2006

I really haven't got a clue as to how to deal with a fanily as fucked-up as the one I married into. My husband's youngest brother is as sociopathic and loveless as the mother.

After Nephew, his oldest son, called bullshit on him for never going to see Grandpa or calling to see how he's doing, that prick seized on it as an excuse to disown his son.

Honestly, I am so mad right now, I don't know whether to shit or go blind. The kid's mother is furious, and unfortunately, it is spilling over onto us, as she feels we encouraged and goaded Nephew into making that call to his father.

As I recall, the actual conversation went like this:
Nephew: Maybe I should call my dad and get on him about not going to see Grandpa.
Spouse: Maybe you should.
Me: I doubt it will make a difference, but it might make you feel better.

So, is that goading? I don't know. None of it was said with any slanted inflection or winkwinknudgenudge kind of delivery. But SIL feels that it is our fault that Nephew made the call and, by extension, our fault that his father did what he did.

I feel that is a little unfair, and altogether too easy on her ex-husband, but I am going to beg Spouse to call his brother and place the blame on us, just to get it off of Nephew. I couldn't give a shit what that man thinks of us, but I don't want Nephew to feel we destroyed any chance there was for a relationship.

Because someday, I want the blame to lay squarely on that bastard's shoulders, 100%.

One of these days, I look forward to acutally swimming in it.

I kid. I did go for a morning swim at about 7:00, after I got done walking the dog. And then I made up to my mom by calling and talking for hours. I hadn't done that in a long time, and she was really glad to just have a chat and bitch session. She says I always call her when she's down, and I told her that I call because I get the vibe that she needs me. Which is quite often true. And makes her feel special. But the truth is, she's almost always down.

She needs somebody to remind her, on a regular basis, that she is a good and valuable person, and that she is loved. My dad is spectacularly successful at convincing her otherwise, and somebody needs to lend balance. My little brother tries his best, but he's only one man, and her self-esteem is world-class bad. (Sadly, his is as well. My father has a lot to answer for in this life.)

Aside from Dad's abusive bullshit (He's a bitter and twisted old shit these days), She's very glum because she went to a wedding down home last week, and got together with a lot of old friends, only to find out a significant number of them who are still around are full of cancer and on their way out. That depressed her so bad that she came home from the trip and went to work redecorating her kitchen, pulling down wallpaper and looking through paint samples. And she made my brother homemade potato salad. And pie.

Yeah, I wonder where I got that "cook and bake when you feel vulnerable" thing?

Or I was, anyway, until my SIL called. I am badly undernourished on the me-time, and I really don't want to spend it slaving away.

Still, I need to do some basic cleaning--maybe run the vac and duster about, and wash the dishes I rinsed and put aside last night after supper. I caught the laundry up pretty well on Thursday, so if I buckle down and commit to 90 minutes of solid housework, I can probably get enough done to ease my conscience, and be able to enjoy myself. Oh, and I need to wash the sheets that I just put on my bed. Aunt Flo made an exhibition of herself on arrival last night. Dammit.