Emotionally exhausted

*phew*

Helluva weekend.

And no, not in the good way.

I took a couple of days off to extend the holiday weekend, in order to spend some time with Jeff, help him get packed, etc.... His parents (as well as younger sister, and her two young children) came up as well, which was an additional source of stress in an off itself.

See, his Mom... well... how shall I put this? Oh wait, Jeff doesn't read this. So I can be honest here. She's a bitch. Granted, HE'LL be the first one to tell you that, and says so often. But then there's that sort of unwritten law that even though HE acknowleges that she's wicked, spiteful and mean, I can't speak about her that way myself.

Now, to give you a bit of background info, she hates (and I mean HATES, as in, would probably hire a contract killer if she felt sure she'd never get caught) Jeff's ex-wife. And maybe for good reason. But hello? Two years have passed - he's over it, so shouldn't his MOM be over it? One would think so, but still, the grudge is alive and well.

So, when Jeff and I first met, she expressed her displeasure, and, in no uncertain terms, told him he should not be dating me, that it was too soon (he had been divorced for a year at that point), and that "they" (meaning the family) were not ready for "another one" yet. Bawk-bawk-WHAT? She feels that one should wait three years following the end of a relationship before so much as going out on a date. Really. I'm serious.

Now, since his parents live a few hours away, we see them every few months, but not TOO often. And each time we see them, I make a point of being very pleasant, very polite (more so than usual), and try my damndest to engage in conversation with his Mom, in hopes that she'll realize what a wonderful person I am, and will welcome me into her family.

However, so far, this hasn't worked.

So, the family arrived, and the abuse began. His mother (and sometimes his sister) were so incessantly rude and disrespectful to me, I can't even believe it myself. A couple of times I found myself alone with the both of them, so I would attempt to strike up a conversation with his Mom (such as, "I've got some pictures to pick up this week - there are a bunch of Jeff and Brandon. I'd be glad to send you a set."). Each attempt was met with one of three reactions: total silence, her talking over me to someone else in the room, or her simply getting up and leaving the room, while I'm still speaking.

But I dealt with it. Jeff had told me before this is simply how she is, and that there is no talking to her. The same thing had happened with his ex-wife when they were together, his brother-in-law also deals with it, as does his father.

So Sunday night, we follow them downstate to spend a couple days at their house, see the rest of the family, etc... Sunday night went off without a hitch, and *gasp* Jeff and I actually slept in the same room together. I questioned this (since we'd always been required to stay in separate rooms in the past), but he assured me it would not be a problem.

Monday started off nicely... we spent the day with Jeff's 13-year-old brother, then returned to the house for a family cookout. Dad was out back, grilling steaks, Mom and sister were bitching away in the kitchen, and the kids were all in the family room playing X-box. Hmmm.... so where shall I go? Yes, yes, I offered assistance in the kitchen, but my query was met with scarcely a grunt of a response. So I retreated to the family room to hang with the kids.

Dinner was nice... A few barbs were thrown my way, both from Mom and sister, but I was able to ignore them for the most part. However, after dinner, Jeff sat down with his parents to give them emergency info, account numbers, etc... I went to the bedroom (just down the hall from where they were) to read a book. When they were done, as Jeff was padding down the hallway toward the bedroom, his Mom called him back to the other room. She was questioning what he was going to do with his car while he's away. He told her I would drive it down to their house the following weekend, with a friend following to take me back home. She grunted, then expressed something along the lines of "That's a nice offer, but I don't believe she's sincere in some of what she says, so let's make other arrangements."

Excuse me? Ice Queen Bitch is going to question MY sincerity?

This was the straw that broke the camel's back. She had already expressed objections to his storing certain items (his X-box, the big TV, some extra uniforms) at my house, mumbling something about "divvying up his things," but this was an actual personal attack on my character, and I wasn't having it.

So I sauntered down the hall, and stood before them. She glanced my way, at which point I stated, calmly, politely, "if you have an issue with something I've done or said, I would appreciate the courtesy of you coming to me about it, rather than standing here criticizing me behind my back." Immediately, she launched an attack on me. And when I moved to interject something? She actually HELD HER HAND UP not 6" from my face, as if to "SILENCE!" me.

For about 15 minutes (seemed longer!) she hurled insults at not only me, but at Jeff. She essentially (actually, quite plainly) stated that he doesn't know what's best for himself, that she trusted his judgment when he got married, and look what a disaster THAT turned out to be, so why should his judgment ever be trusted again? And when I pointed out that out of all that heartache, one wonderful thing came out of it (and then I motioned toward his son, playing in the next room), and that didn't that make it all worthwhile? Her response? No. Yes, you read that right. This woman actually would trade the birth of her grandchild in order to get back the money she spent on his divorce attorney. I am not even exaggerating.

Finally, Jeff lead me by the arm back to the bedroom. I had managed to remain fairly calm, but she was getting more and more fired up. I was in tears (as does happen when I get angry), as was he. He closed the door, and went to speak to his Mom at the other end of the house. When he finally returned, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. At this point, I felt like the best thing was for me to remove myself from the situation. I felt it would make his life simpler if I just wasn't in it. And I said so.

We slept on opposite sides of the bed, not so much as touching (oh yeah, one of the barbs she tossed out at ME was that I was setting a bad example for her 13 year old son, by sleeping in the same room with Jeff). This morning, more of the same, with intermittent periods of crying (both of us). We drove home, attempting small talk, then he slept (he had to go into work at 7:00 p.m. tonight). Finally, once we got back, and he realized I wasn't bluffing (I left my overnight bag by the front door, rather than taking it to the bedroom, and unpacking it), he spoke.

In short, we worked it out. We don't quite know how the family dynamics will work in the future, but we both agree we have too much between us to allow his mother to rip it apart. We're both emotionally drained, but happy at the outcome.

However, I will have to deal with his Mom next Monday....

(more on THAT to come)