The in(sane)-laws

This is not working out. I want it to stop. Now. I hate it. I hate Sundays. This arrangement is worse than the ones we've had before.

Ever since we agreed to the weekly Sunday phone call between Logan and the grandparents, Sundays have become full of tension, anxiety, stress and it's resurfacing my pent up rage towards them. Bill and I have been getting along pretty well lately, but I feel like every Sunday slowly drags us back down. All of the problem feelings surface, like resentment, anger and hurt and they bottleneck in my chest as Bill shrugs it off trying to pacify me. Why did I think it was going to be any different?? Why am I continually driving myself insane thinking that situations are going to change?

Each Sunday is just another reason to argue. You'd think Bill would put two and two together and make the best decision for our family, especially since last Sunday he didn't make the call for Logan. He was supposed to be out of town and plans changed. He stayed home, but the in-laws still thought he was on business. No phone call to them, no stress in our house. Simple equation, right? He's too busy making his mom happy instead of helping the happiness in our house. Again.

I finally got Bill to agree to have the phone call on the speaker so I could hear what was being said, especially since I thought I heard an unsettling remark in the first call. Three or four weeks later, it finally happened. And just as I thought, "clueless" Grandma L is making inappropriate comments. First, Logan is talking about going over to their house to play hide and go seek. "Wouldn't it be fun if you could stay here the whole time?" she says to Logan. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? She just asked my three year old son if it would be fun if he could spend the whole time there. We're having issues with her understanding the role of a grandparent and this just digs her grave even deeper.

Then, Logan gets tired of talking on the phone after only a few short minutes. "I want you to talk to Daddy, " he tells her. "But I want to talk to you," she replies. "Why do you want to talk to me? Why don't you want to talk to Daddy or Carter?" There's an uneasy silence as she thinks about her answer. "Because I love talking to you" she responds. "Well, I want you to talk to Daddy", he says again. "That makes Grandma sad," she tells him.

I glare at Bill and it takes EVERY. OUNCE. OF. SELF. CONTROL to just sit there and say nothing as she tries to emotionally manipulate my son with a guilt trip because he doesn't want to talk to her anymore. Bill just sits there and shrugs his shoulders like it's no big deal.

I couldn't sleep last night because the hatred for her began growing inside me like a toxic cancer. This was the very reason I thought the cut-off was the best choice for our family. Now with the phone calls, that cancer grows bigger every week, infecting our family more intensely. It's too much. And now with this stunt that she just pulled, I am without a doubt going to contact her to let her know that I don't appreciate her guilt tripping my kids. Bill won't do it. He'll just shrug it off again. The mama bear is wide awake now and Grandma L better watch out. These claws are sharp.