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| It takes me anywhere I want to go! |
Sunday, October 28, 2012
It's My Vehicle, Baby
Friday, October 26, 2012
Universal Repairs
Bruce and I got into a huge fight.
I don't remember what it was about. Tensions have been high in the house, what with the cat pee situation, the smashed car situation, and moodiness from all parties involved. Bruce has a health condition that can be triggered by stress that he has been dealing that, too. It makes him grouchy. And that makes me upset and sensitive.
So the other day we offered to pick up Mexican food for dinner for everyone. Bruce's parents watched the baby and the two of us went. Alone time is so rare for us. You know those couples you see arguing in public? They might live with their in-laws. When we are having a couple's quarrel, we don't even feel comfortable going behind closed doors. The walls are thin around here. When I really am about to explode I've even typed my thoughts onto my cell phone and shown them to Bruce, rather than risk being overheard by his parents. It's so frustrating. Not being able to vocalize your true feelings can really build up pressure.
We got in the car, and that's when everything came spilling out. Before we arrived at the burrito place I was almost in tears. We continued our fight inside, after we ordered, quietly. Yeah, we were that couple.
On the drive back things got worse. I was so pissed. I felt like Bruce just didn't understand (whatever it was). Bruce was sick and tired of everything. As we pulled into the driveway, I thought about going in and how I would have to wipe my tears, put a fake smile on my face, and have a miserable meal at the table with his parents. I just couldn't do it. Not that time.
I refused to go in. Eventually, Bruce stopped trying to persuade me and stomped off, bag of food in hand. I didn't care. I got behind the wheel, turned the key, put in an Ani DiFranco CD, and reversed out of there.
The sun was starting to set and I headed west, the autumn leaves on the trees glowing brightly in the rays. I felt like a teenager again, back in my hometown, driving around to escape my family and calm my raging emotions.
After several songs of me singing loudly along, I found myself on the other side of town with a fairly empty gas tank. I stopped and filled up. I didn't feel so bad anymore. Not that I wanted to go back and see everyone. I decided to go home the roundabout way. I figured that would give enough time for Bruce's parents to finish up eating and retire to the couch. I could come in, sit down, and consume my reheated burrito without much awkwardness.
The first thing I noticed was that the car's heat didn't seem to be on. The air blowing in at full blast - that's the only way the air/heat works - was mild, even though I had the dial turned to the red section. Then something smelled funny. That prompted me to look at the temperature gauge. Normally between cold and hot, it was now all the way up. Shit. The car was overheating.
I parked in a close Walgreens lot. I don't know a lot about cars (though I did recently read an auto repair book), but my brother does. So I called him as I walked around the store. I still didn't want to talk to Bruce. My brother wasn't able to come help me, though, so I had to.
Bruce showed up quickly in his dad's car. He didn't say much and neither did I. He opened the hood of the car, checked around, and headed into the store. He came out with some coolant, poured some in. He told me he would drive our car, and I would follow him in the other.
We drove about five minutes before he pulled over again. While I waited, he checked under the hood. It was completely dark outside by now and he had to use the flashlight app on his phone. He added more coolant. We clearly had a leak. Unbelievable. How much would this cost us?! Fortune was not on our side. We now had two broken cars.
Conveniently, the body shop we trust was nearby. We dropped the keys into the nightbox and left the car there. We were both depressed by this time. The fight had been forgotten.
The ailment Bruce has? He recently went to the doctor and was prescribed medicine for it. On the way home, both of us in his dad's car, we stopped by the store. This particular mega-grocery offers coupons of $20 off your next purchase when you start a new prescription there. The coupons print out after you pay in line. But I didn't have one. I hated the thought of missing out on a free $20. So you know what we did? This is embarrassing to admit, but we walked up and down the checkout aisles looking to see if anyone had left one behind. Nothing.
Utterly dejected, we headed towards the pharmacy. Suddenly, Bruce stopped. He walked towards where the DVD and toy machines are. He picked up a piece of paper.
A coupon!
I'm not kidding you. I was ridiculously overjoyed at saving that little bit of money. In that moment, I could see so clearly. It was all a sign: YOU NEED BRUCE. Not in a dependent, sappy, nauseating Jerry Maguire "you complete me" kind of way. In a committed, partnership, 'you took vows and don't you forget it' kind of way. I tried to go out on my own and the damn universe made him rescue me. Even if I had remembered the information from the auto repair manual, someone would've needed to come get me when it was plain that the car's anti-freeze was leaking. And surely I would have never seen that coupon.
We went home, together. Bruce's parents didn't ask too many questions, for which I was thankful. The auto shop called in the morning and the repairs weren't that expensive. Phew! Actually, we were able to pay in cash. That's new for us; normally we'd have to put it on a credit card. That in itself is really satisfying.
Bruce and I are better now. I don't think that the tension or stilted communication will ease up while we live here. We're going to continue to have issues, and it will still be hard to talk about them at home. I do think, though, that we will handle them as they occur knowing that in the long run, we will be stronger.
After all, we have the universe on our side.
I don't remember what it was about. Tensions have been high in the house, what with the cat pee situation, the smashed car situation, and moodiness from all parties involved. Bruce has a health condition that can be triggered by stress that he has been dealing that, too. It makes him grouchy. And that makes me upset and sensitive.
So the other day we offered to pick up Mexican food for dinner for everyone. Bruce's parents watched the baby and the two of us went. Alone time is so rare for us. You know those couples you see arguing in public? They might live with their in-laws. When we are having a couple's quarrel, we don't even feel comfortable going behind closed doors. The walls are thin around here. When I really am about to explode I've even typed my thoughts onto my cell phone and shown them to Bruce, rather than risk being overheard by his parents. It's so frustrating. Not being able to vocalize your true feelings can really build up pressure.
We got in the car, and that's when everything came spilling out. Before we arrived at the burrito place I was almost in tears. We continued our fight inside, after we ordered, quietly. Yeah, we were that couple.
On the drive back things got worse. I was so pissed. I felt like Bruce just didn't understand (whatever it was). Bruce was sick and tired of everything. As we pulled into the driveway, I thought about going in and how I would have to wipe my tears, put a fake smile on my face, and have a miserable meal at the table with his parents. I just couldn't do it. Not that time.
I refused to go in. Eventually, Bruce stopped trying to persuade me and stomped off, bag of food in hand. I didn't care. I got behind the wheel, turned the key, put in an Ani DiFranco CD, and reversed out of there.
The sun was starting to set and I headed west, the autumn leaves on the trees glowing brightly in the rays. I felt like a teenager again, back in my hometown, driving around to escape my family and calm my raging emotions.
After several songs of me singing loudly along, I found myself on the other side of town with a fairly empty gas tank. I stopped and filled up. I didn't feel so bad anymore. Not that I wanted to go back and see everyone. I decided to go home the roundabout way. I figured that would give enough time for Bruce's parents to finish up eating and retire to the couch. I could come in, sit down, and consume my reheated burrito without much awkwardness.
The first thing I noticed was that the car's heat didn't seem to be on. The air blowing in at full blast - that's the only way the air/heat works - was mild, even though I had the dial turned to the red section. Then something smelled funny. That prompted me to look at the temperature gauge. Normally between cold and hot, it was now all the way up. Shit. The car was overheating.
I parked in a close Walgreens lot. I don't know a lot about cars (though I did recently read an auto repair book), but my brother does. So I called him as I walked around the store. I still didn't want to talk to Bruce. My brother wasn't able to come help me, though, so I had to.
Bruce showed up quickly in his dad's car. He didn't say much and neither did I. He opened the hood of the car, checked around, and headed into the store. He came out with some coolant, poured some in. He told me he would drive our car, and I would follow him in the other.
We drove about five minutes before he pulled over again. While I waited, he checked under the hood. It was completely dark outside by now and he had to use the flashlight app on his phone. He added more coolant. We clearly had a leak. Unbelievable. How much would this cost us?! Fortune was not on our side. We now had two broken cars.
Conveniently, the body shop we trust was nearby. We dropped the keys into the nightbox and left the car there. We were both depressed by this time. The fight had been forgotten.
The ailment Bruce has? He recently went to the doctor and was prescribed medicine for it. On the way home, both of us in his dad's car, we stopped by the store. This particular mega-grocery offers coupons of $20 off your next purchase when you start a new prescription there. The coupons print out after you pay in line. But I didn't have one. I hated the thought of missing out on a free $20. So you know what we did? This is embarrassing to admit, but we walked up and down the checkout aisles looking to see if anyone had left one behind. Nothing.
Utterly dejected, we headed towards the pharmacy. Suddenly, Bruce stopped. He walked towards where the DVD and toy machines are. He picked up a piece of paper.
A coupon!
I'm not kidding you. I was ridiculously overjoyed at saving that little bit of money. In that moment, I could see so clearly. It was all a sign: YOU NEED BRUCE. Not in a dependent, sappy, nauseating Jerry Maguire "you complete me" kind of way. In a committed, partnership, 'you took vows and don't you forget it' kind of way. I tried to go out on my own and the damn universe made him rescue me. Even if I had remembered the information from the auto repair manual, someone would've needed to come get me when it was plain that the car's anti-freeze was leaking. And surely I would have never seen that coupon.
We went home, together. Bruce's parents didn't ask too many questions, for which I was thankful. The auto shop called in the morning and the repairs weren't that expensive. Phew! Actually, we were able to pay in cash. That's new for us; normally we'd have to put it on a credit card. That in itself is really satisfying.
Bruce and I are better now. I don't think that the tension or stilted communication will ease up while we live here. We're going to continue to have issues, and it will still be hard to talk about them at home. I do think, though, that we will handle them as they occur knowing that in the long run, we will be stronger.
After all, we have the universe on our side.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Marriage Advice
Ever since I was a little girl, I have been reading the advice columnists in the newspaper. It's because I always had to be reading something at breakfast. First, it was the back of the cereal box. Then, the comics in the paper. Next to the comics are the advice columns. I credit them towards the cultivation of a major portion of my manners and behaviors.
Lately, for obvious reasons, I really home in on topics regarding in-laws. This Ask Amy column from today is every woman's nightmare. I remember when I was getting married, reading all the wedding chat forums where the brides-to-be complained about their fiancé's mother. I've always counted myself as lucky to have such a great relationship with my mother-in-law.
I'm not going to lie, living with her has tested my patience a few times. I did worry that there would be a conflict between her and me for Bruce's attention. I predicted that she would resume her natural inclination to take care of him, when the role now belongs to me. Those things have happened, and I'm sure they'll continue. I've actually had to remind him on one occasion, "You are married to me, not your mother". He knows, but it's difficult for him to have his worlds collide like this.
So I love Amy's advice here that "the marriage needs to be at the center." This rule should apply to all couples, regardless of how close to or how far from their in-laws they live. This rule should be remembered during the angriest times and the happiest times.
Everyone should have a sign in the home where they can see those words daily. I'm thinking about making one for our room!
Lately, for obvious reasons, I really home in on topics regarding in-laws. This Ask Amy column from today is every woman's nightmare. I remember when I was getting married, reading all the wedding chat forums where the brides-to-be complained about their fiancé's mother. I've always counted myself as lucky to have such a great relationship with my mother-in-law.
I'm not going to lie, living with her has tested my patience a few times. I did worry that there would be a conflict between her and me for Bruce's attention. I predicted that she would resume her natural inclination to take care of him, when the role now belongs to me. Those things have happened, and I'm sure they'll continue. I've actually had to remind him on one occasion, "You are married to me, not your mother". He knows, but it's difficult for him to have his worlds collide like this.
So I love Amy's advice here that "the marriage needs to be at the center." This rule should apply to all couples, regardless of how close to or how far from their in-laws they live. This rule should be remembered during the angriest times and the happiest times.
Everyone should have a sign in the home where they can see those words daily. I'm thinking about making one for our room!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
I Will Get By
It's Tuesday Tunes Day!
Today's selection is one of my new favorites, the Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey". Unlike my friends, I was never really into this band or Phish, another touring band famous for its tie-dyed followers. In our late teens and early twenties, Bruce was one of those people who would go to all the outdoor concerts. I'm familiar with this song because it was the Grateful Dead's only commercial success, and it gets played on the radio pretty frequently.
It wasn't until recently, when I karaoked this with Jeanette, that I paid attention to the meaning. It's a really sweet song about how life can be rough, but we must always forge ahead.
Because I like this song, Bruce now teases me and calls me a secret hippie. Maybe I am!
Here's a version with the lyrics:
Today's selection is one of my new favorites, the Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey". Unlike my friends, I was never really into this band or Phish, another touring band famous for its tie-dyed followers. In our late teens and early twenties, Bruce was one of those people who would go to all the outdoor concerts. I'm familiar with this song because it was the Grateful Dead's only commercial success, and it gets played on the radio pretty frequently.
It wasn't until recently, when I karaoked this with Jeanette, that I paid attention to the meaning. It's a really sweet song about how life can be rough, but we must always forge ahead.
Because I like this song, Bruce now teases me and calls me a secret hippie. Maybe I am!
Here's a version with the lyrics:
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Open Up, It's the Police
Midnight or so last night we were home, having some drinks with Bruce's sister, when the doorbell rang. Bruce's parents were in bed, asleep.
I could see the flashing lights through the window as I entered the front hallway.
Beer in hand, I peered out the curtains to see a police officer standing on the porch.
This could not be good.
When I opened the door and greeted the officer, I could see past him onto the street, where one of our cars is parked.
It was smashed. All over the pavement, pieces of it sparkled in the headlights of the police car.
The officer told us he was patrolling the neighborhood when he noticed the damage. Our car had been hit from behind, and apparently the offender took off. He or she was probably drunk and/or texting.
That's the car we haven't been driving, because the mechanics told us it was unsafe. The one we got from Bruce's aunt. The one we were planning on trading in when we bought a new car.
The car only has liability insurance. Because it was hit-and-run, no one else's insurance will pay us. We will not be receiving any money for damages.
As little as that car was worth, it was at least cosmetically intact. Now, it's broken on the inside and out. It's not very likely that it will help us out towards a new car purchase anymore.
I tell you, some days I have to focus so hard on the positive, because life certainly can hand you some crappy surprises.
I could see the flashing lights through the window as I entered the front hallway.
Beer in hand, I peered out the curtains to see a police officer standing on the porch.
This could not be good.
When I opened the door and greeted the officer, I could see past him onto the street, where one of our cars is parked.
It was smashed. All over the pavement, pieces of it sparkled in the headlights of the police car.
The officer told us he was patrolling the neighborhood when he noticed the damage. Our car had been hit from behind, and apparently the offender took off. He or she was probably drunk and/or texting.
That's the car we haven't been driving, because the mechanics told us it was unsafe. The one we got from Bruce's aunt. The one we were planning on trading in when we bought a new car.
The car only has liability insurance. Because it was hit-and-run, no one else's insurance will pay us. We will not be receiving any money for damages.
As little as that car was worth, it was at least cosmetically intact. Now, it's broken on the inside and out. It's not very likely that it will help us out towards a new car purchase anymore.
I tell you, some days I have to focus so hard on the positive, because life certainly can hand you some crappy surprises.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Tuesday Tunes Day
Here's a fun Annie fact: I always have a song in my head. And I am almost always singing.
I sing to the baby constantly. I hum when I do dishes. You may have driven up next to me and seen me crooning along to the radio like I was practicing for American Idol.
When we were discussing moving in with Bruce's parents I warned them: "Just to let you know, I sing all the time."
I wouldn't call myself a music aficionado (That's Bruce - he's totally into the music scene). I like all kinds of music. But I mostly listen to pop music, which isn't exactly considered high culture. Music is a huge part of my life, however. You may have noticed that many of my blog post titles are influenced by songs.
Because of this, I have decided to share some tunes with you that I feel are particularly poignant to our living-with-the-in-laws situation. Let's call this Tuesday Tunes Day (I know, today is Wednesday! Well, from now on they'll be on Tuesdays).
A while back, Bruce made me this amazing mixed CD. (Aw, remember the 90's when we all did that?) Some of the songs will be from there. This first one is - George Harrison's "Got My Mind Set on You". The lyrics could not be more apropos.
Enjoy!
I sing to the baby constantly. I hum when I do dishes. You may have driven up next to me and seen me crooning along to the radio like I was practicing for American Idol.
When we were discussing moving in with Bruce's parents I warned them: "Just to let you know, I sing all the time."
I wouldn't call myself a music aficionado (That's Bruce - he's totally into the music scene). I like all kinds of music. But I mostly listen to pop music, which isn't exactly considered high culture. Music is a huge part of my life, however. You may have noticed that many of my blog post titles are influenced by songs.
Because of this, I have decided to share some tunes with you that I feel are particularly poignant to our living-with-the-in-laws situation. Let's call this Tuesday Tunes Day (I know, today is Wednesday! Well, from now on they'll be on Tuesdays).
A while back, Bruce made me this amazing mixed CD. (Aw, remember the 90's when we all did that?) Some of the songs will be from there. This first one is - George Harrison's "Got My Mind Set on You". The lyrics could not be more apropos.
Enjoy!
I got my mind set on you
But it's gonna take money
A whole lotta spending money
It's gonna take plenty of money
To do it right child
It's gonna take time
A whole lot of precious time
It's gonna take patience and time
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it,
To do it right child
But it's gonna take money
A whole lotta spending money
It's gonna take plenty of money
To do it right child
It's gonna take time
A whole lot of precious time
It's gonna take patience and time
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it,
To do it right child
Friday, October 12, 2012
Oh, for Progress' Sake: Finance Friday III
I was on the phone with my friend, Jeanette, who was inquiring what we're going to do about Minnie the cat. We are NOT getting rid of her. I told my friend that even though hearing Minnie cry incessantly in the basement is heart-wrenching, I have to remember the one who matters the most is our daughter, Emmie.
We're doing this for her.
The good news is, despite the drama, we are moving right along with paying down our debt.
Today I paid the bills and updated our debt spreadsheet. I every time I update it, I add a new column for the date and enter in the new balance totals for each item.
We've paid off 14% of our debt in the past month! Most of it was from pulling out my old 401(k), but still. That's better than we did in the whole year from 2010-2011.
Now that I am back to work, we are finally able to pay our bills and breathe a little easier when we see how much money is left. We are paying a significant sum towards our debt with each paycheck. We've eliminated three bills! Since we are going from smallest to largest, the debt snowball should start rolling faster now.
The positive results really encourage us to persevere.
I keep telling myself, when this is over, it won't have seemed that bad. It's like a break-up; once you move on, it doesn't hurt anymore.
Hopefully Minnie can put this behind her, too.
We're doing this for her.
The good news is, despite the drama, we are moving right along with paying down our debt.
Today I paid the bills and updated our debt spreadsheet. I every time I update it, I add a new column for the date and enter in the new balance totals for each item.
We've paid off 14% of our debt in the past month! Most of it was from pulling out my old 401(k), but still. That's better than we did in the whole year from 2010-2011.
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| Two beautiful words in the English language: "Paid off" |
Now that I am back to work, we are finally able to pay our bills and breathe a little easier when we see how much money is left. We are paying a significant sum towards our debt with each paycheck. We've eliminated three bills! Since we are going from smallest to largest, the debt snowball should start rolling faster now.
The positive results really encourage us to persevere.
I keep telling myself, when this is over, it won't have seemed that bad. It's like a break-up; once you move on, it doesn't hurt anymore.
Hopefully Minnie can put this behind her, too.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Indefinite Imprisonment
Last night my mother-in-law took the third cat of the house to the vet. While there, she explained the situation between Minnie and Sasha. According to my MIL, the vet said it will never get better until one of the cats is gone.
I am in utter turmoil. My stomach keeps churning. I feel terrible. I know she's just a cat, but Minnie is a part of my little family. Living here is supposed to be temporary, but could still be lengthy - possibly over a year. We firmly intend for Minnie to be the fourth member of the home we will someday own.
I hate to fail at my endeavors. If we moved out now, we may not get approved for a mortgage, because I wasn't working most of this year. We could rent, but then we'd never be better off.
In the meantime, Minnie is locked in the basement. The door is just beyond the kitchen and living room, so she hears us and meows and meows to be let out. It's just awful.
I try to bring her upstairs during the day, worried all the while that she will pee somewhere else. When she's out with us, she purrs like there's no tomorrow. When I put her back, she gazes forlornly at me while I shut the door.
This is breaking Bruce and I. Our emotions are all over the place because of this. What should we do? Are we overreacting?
I am in utter turmoil. My stomach keeps churning. I feel terrible. I know she's just a cat, but Minnie is a part of my little family. Living here is supposed to be temporary, but could still be lengthy - possibly over a year. We firmly intend for Minnie to be the fourth member of the home we will someday own.
I hate to fail at my endeavors. If we moved out now, we may not get approved for a mortgage, because I wasn't working most of this year. We could rent, but then we'd never be better off.
In the meantime, Minnie is locked in the basement. The door is just beyond the kitchen and living room, so she hears us and meows and meows to be let out. It's just awful.
I try to bring her upstairs during the day, worried all the while that she will pee somewhere else. When she's out with us, she purrs like there's no tomorrow. When I put her back, she gazes forlornly at me while I shut the door.
This is breaking Bruce and I. Our emotions are all over the place because of this. What should we do? Are we overreacting?
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| Minnie hides out to avoid returning to jail. |
Monday, October 8, 2012
Animal House
Shit has really hit the fan lately. Or rather, it's hit the floor.
One issue we've been having is that Minnie the cat keeps relieving herself on the carpeted stairs landing. Cats are notoriously finicky animals and the way they deal with displeasure is to go outside of their litter box. This must be what Minnie is doing, because in the past year the poor cat has been through the following:
We've tried everything. We've moved her litter box all over the house, to keep Minnie away from the cat that torments her. Bruce's mom bought some miracle spray online that claimed it would make cats feel happy (wow, can't believe that didn't work!). We've put tin foil down on the stairs because allegedly cats hate it. We've tried giving Minnie a lot of attention and positively encouraging her to go in her litter box. Nothing has worked.
Before work last week, Bruce came downstairs and said "Good morning" to his folks. His mother didn't respond. Bruce knew right away that the cat must have done it again. The way his mother so chillingly received him ruffled his feathers, however.
After some prodding, Bruce's mom stated, "This can't happen anymore."
Groggy and frustrated, Bruce burst out, "Fine! Then we'll move out!"
I spent all day convincing Bruce that we have to keep living here if we want to fix our future. As much as I would love to, if we moved out now we'd probably be making ends meet for the rest of our lives. There has to be another solution.
The problem lies in a lack of communication and handling the situation badly. Bruce's mom is mainly exasperated because she feels that she is the one always cleaning up Minnie's mess. She doesn't know about the times that Bruce has cleaned, because he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to distress his parents further.
And what about me? Well, on the days I'm not working in the morning, I sleep until the baby wakes up. Usually 7:30 or 8. Then I change her and feed her. It can be hours after the cat has done her business before we venture downstairs. Someone's already taken care of it. Some days I don't even know it happened.
By the time Bruce got home from work, he had calmed down. So had his mom. He apologized, and explained that she needed to talk to him about issues, instead of being dramatic and giving him the cold shoulder. She apologized, too.
While this was happening, I could tell that Bruce's dad was miffed about something. He was silent for a while. Then, when everything was getting normal again he blurted, "You know, Bruce, you could help things by cleaning up once in a while and not always letting your mother do it."
I couldn't take it anymore. That's when I yelled. "I would clean it up, but I don't even know it's happening! I don't hear about any of this until afterwards! You can't clean it up without anyone knowing and then be mad when no one else cleans it up! Why don't you just wake me up or knock on my door if you want me to take care of it?! I have no problem cleaning it up; she's our cat!"
I've never raised my voice to them. I was shaking. Everyone looked at me, stunned for a moment. Bruce's dad said softly, "No, Annie. We wouldn't want to wake you up. We're just upset, that's all."
"We all are," Bruce admitted.
Later, Bruce and I discussed what happened. "Do you think it was bad when I yelled at them?" I asked, worried.
"You yelled at them?" He blinked, looking confused. Then he laughed. "Oh, Annie! You yelling at people is like a mouse getting mad. You think you're making a lot of noise, but you're not. It didn't seem like you were yelling at all. You were just being sensible."
In my head, I was a lion. I guess I'm not as ferocious as I'd like to be.
Things remained tense for several days. Bruce's mother banished Minnie to the basement. She has to stay in there until she starts using the litter box down there and hopefully works things out with the other cat, Sasha. This really pisses me off, but I don't see an alternative. Part of me secretly hopes Minnie realizes she has claws and Sasha doesn't. I figure that'll fix the bully.
If we had our own house, this wouldn't be happening. Our cat wouldn't be destroying my in-laws' home and we wouldn't all be fighting. But we do live here. And I try to remember that even though they're charging us rent, Bruce's parents are still helping us. We are living under their roof.
The only way to get out of this with our relationships intact is by communicating effectively. By not letting our emotions get the best of us. We can't be like animals, hissing and growling.
We're all going to have to find a way to get along, without using our claws.
One issue we've been having is that Minnie the cat keeps relieving herself on the carpeted stairs landing. Cats are notoriously finicky animals and the way they deal with displeasure is to go outside of their litter box. This must be what Minnie is doing, because in the past year the poor cat has been through the following:
- A baby was born and stole the attention away.
- Minnie was moved into a strange house with two other cats.
- One of the cats has terrorized her from the start.
- Routines like meal time have been changed, not to mention her type of cat litter and food.
- Her owners are stressed out.
We've tried everything. We've moved her litter box all over the house, to keep Minnie away from the cat that torments her. Bruce's mom bought some miracle spray online that claimed it would make cats feel happy (wow, can't believe that didn't work!). We've put tin foil down on the stairs because allegedly cats hate it. We've tried giving Minnie a lot of attention and positively encouraging her to go in her litter box. Nothing has worked.
Before work last week, Bruce came downstairs and said "Good morning" to his folks. His mother didn't respond. Bruce knew right away that the cat must have done it again. The way his mother so chillingly received him ruffled his feathers, however.
After some prodding, Bruce's mom stated, "This can't happen anymore."
Groggy and frustrated, Bruce burst out, "Fine! Then we'll move out!"
I spent all day convincing Bruce that we have to keep living here if we want to fix our future. As much as I would love to, if we moved out now we'd probably be making ends meet for the rest of our lives. There has to be another solution.
The problem lies in a lack of communication and handling the situation badly. Bruce's mom is mainly exasperated because she feels that she is the one always cleaning up Minnie's mess. She doesn't know about the times that Bruce has cleaned, because he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to distress his parents further.
And what about me? Well, on the days I'm not working in the morning, I sleep until the baby wakes up. Usually 7:30 or 8. Then I change her and feed her. It can be hours after the cat has done her business before we venture downstairs. Someone's already taken care of it. Some days I don't even know it happened.
By the time Bruce got home from work, he had calmed down. So had his mom. He apologized, and explained that she needed to talk to him about issues, instead of being dramatic and giving him the cold shoulder. She apologized, too.
While this was happening, I could tell that Bruce's dad was miffed about something. He was silent for a while. Then, when everything was getting normal again he blurted, "You know, Bruce, you could help things by cleaning up once in a while and not always letting your mother do it."
I couldn't take it anymore. That's when I yelled. "I would clean it up, but I don't even know it's happening! I don't hear about any of this until afterwards! You can't clean it up without anyone knowing and then be mad when no one else cleans it up! Why don't you just wake me up or knock on my door if you want me to take care of it?! I have no problem cleaning it up; she's our cat!"
I've never raised my voice to them. I was shaking. Everyone looked at me, stunned for a moment. Bruce's dad said softly, "No, Annie. We wouldn't want to wake you up. We're just upset, that's all."
"We all are," Bruce admitted.
Later, Bruce and I discussed what happened. "Do you think it was bad when I yelled at them?" I asked, worried.
"You yelled at them?" He blinked, looking confused. Then he laughed. "Oh, Annie! You yelling at people is like a mouse getting mad. You think you're making a lot of noise, but you're not. It didn't seem like you were yelling at all. You were just being sensible."
In my head, I was a lion. I guess I'm not as ferocious as I'd like to be.
Things remained tense for several days. Bruce's mother banished Minnie to the basement. She has to stay in there until she starts using the litter box down there and hopefully works things out with the other cat, Sasha. This really pisses me off, but I don't see an alternative. Part of me secretly hopes Minnie realizes she has claws and Sasha doesn't. I figure that'll fix the bully.
If we had our own house, this wouldn't be happening. Our cat wouldn't be destroying my in-laws' home and we wouldn't all be fighting. But we do live here. And I try to remember that even though they're charging us rent, Bruce's parents are still helping us. We are living under their roof.
The only way to get out of this with our relationships intact is by communicating effectively. By not letting our emotions get the best of us. We can't be like animals, hissing and growling.
We're all going to have to find a way to get along, without using our claws.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Su Casa Es Mi Casa
Ooh She's a Little Runaway
This morning I borrowed my in-laws' car and ran to the store. As I walked though the aisles, concentrating on the products rather than my child's temperament, I thought, "Hey. This is pretty nice. Even though it's just twenty minutes, I wouldn't have gotten this if we lived on our own." And so I relished in my momentary independence.
Honey - er, Dad - I'm Home
Since Bruce and I moved in together way back when, I've always greeted him at the door when he arrives home from work. He would always give me a kiss, even before putting down his keys. When we got Minnie the cat, she would hear him coming and run to the front entrance, where we would meet him together. Later we added the baby to the routine, though that was to be only for a short while.
Now, because the baby and I spend so much time upstairs, and Minnie lounges in various places in this house, we rarely go down to welcome him. Instead, he sees his father first, because his dad is usually sitting on the couch. Bruce comes up to change his clothes and we see him. That's when Minnie appears.
One day we'll be in our own house, again crowding around Bruce at the threshold.
Grandparentproofing
Bruce is gradually babyproofing the downstairs so it's more comfortable to be down there with Emmie. Last night he stuck this foamy stuff around the brick base of the fireplace. As he was opening the package, I could see his mother eyeing it warily. She wanted to know if it could be removed easily, like if company was coming over.
He's started pointing out in a joking way things that will need to be removed, like this crazy intense power strip that has about a jillion cords snaking out of it. "What do you guys need that for?" He laughed. "It looks like you're running NASA in the living room!" His mother sniffed defensively.
I get that their lives have already been turned upside down, and they want to keep their house the way they're used to. But they don't seem to get that the baby needs to move around unimpeded. Bruce's dad actually said, "We never babyproofed when you were kids. Can't you just watch her?"
To which Bruce replied, "Dad, you guys didn't have so much crap when we were kids. We need to be able to let Emmie roam a bit. We can't chase after her constantly."
I have to say, I was pretty proud of him.
One Point for Me
I was talking with Bruce's mom about our plans for October. We've been spending an extraordinary amount of social time with his family since we moved in. It's a lot easier to get out of doing stuff when you live on your own. Thus, I've been trying to fill up the weekends with other plans in advance.
"On the 13th, the Landmeiers are coming over for dinner," she informed me.
Um, okay.
I asked slowly, "So, are you guys having a couples' night or do you think they'd want to see the baby?"
"What do you think?" She smiled.
I did not smile. "So, what you're saying is, we have plans on the 13th, then, too."
Now, I hate any kind of confrontation. Normally, I would accept these plans and then be sour about them later. Since I've become a mom, however, I've realized that I need more of a spine and must be direct with people when necessary. And guess what! It worked!
Bruce's mom backed off. "No! Oh, no. If you guys have plans, then so be it! All I'm saying is, if you're home, I'm sure they'd love to see Emmie."
By not avoiding the situation and dealing with it myself right away, I eliminated the potential for me to get angry in the future and complain to Bruce. This adventure with the in-laws might actually help me improve some aspects of my character!
This morning I borrowed my in-laws' car and ran to the store. As I walked though the aisles, concentrating on the products rather than my child's temperament, I thought, "Hey. This is pretty nice. Even though it's just twenty minutes, I wouldn't have gotten this if we lived on our own." And so I relished in my momentary independence.
Honey - er, Dad - I'm Home
Since Bruce and I moved in together way back when, I've always greeted him at the door when he arrives home from work. He would always give me a kiss, even before putting down his keys. When we got Minnie the cat, she would hear him coming and run to the front entrance, where we would meet him together. Later we added the baby to the routine, though that was to be only for a short while.
Now, because the baby and I spend so much time upstairs, and Minnie lounges in various places in this house, we rarely go down to welcome him. Instead, he sees his father first, because his dad is usually sitting on the couch. Bruce comes up to change his clothes and we see him. That's when Minnie appears.
One day we'll be in our own house, again crowding around Bruce at the threshold.
Grandparentproofing
Bruce is gradually babyproofing the downstairs so it's more comfortable to be down there with Emmie. Last night he stuck this foamy stuff around the brick base of the fireplace. As he was opening the package, I could see his mother eyeing it warily. She wanted to know if it could be removed easily, like if company was coming over.
He's started pointing out in a joking way things that will need to be removed, like this crazy intense power strip that has about a jillion cords snaking out of it. "What do you guys need that for?" He laughed. "It looks like you're running NASA in the living room!" His mother sniffed defensively.
I get that their lives have already been turned upside down, and they want to keep their house the way they're used to. But they don't seem to get that the baby needs to move around unimpeded. Bruce's dad actually said, "We never babyproofed when you were kids. Can't you just watch her?"
To which Bruce replied, "Dad, you guys didn't have so much crap when we were kids. We need to be able to let Emmie roam a bit. We can't chase after her constantly."
I have to say, I was pretty proud of him.
One Point for Me
I was talking with Bruce's mom about our plans for October. We've been spending an extraordinary amount of social time with his family since we moved in. It's a lot easier to get out of doing stuff when you live on your own. Thus, I've been trying to fill up the weekends with other plans in advance.
"On the 13th, the Landmeiers are coming over for dinner," she informed me.
Um, okay.
I asked slowly, "So, are you guys having a couples' night or do you think they'd want to see the baby?"
"What do you think?" She smiled.
I did not smile. "So, what you're saying is, we have plans on the 13th, then, too."
Now, I hate any kind of confrontation. Normally, I would accept these plans and then be sour about them later. Since I've become a mom, however, I've realized that I need more of a spine and must be direct with people when necessary. And guess what! It worked!
Bruce's mom backed off. "No! Oh, no. If you guys have plans, then so be it! All I'm saying is, if you're home, I'm sure they'd love to see Emmie."
By not avoiding the situation and dealing with it myself right away, I eliminated the potential for me to get angry in the future and complain to Bruce. This adventure with the in-laws might actually help me improve some aspects of my character!
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