Snarky Brides

k, here are my neurotic irrational thoughts...

I should preface this by saying that when I originally posted this about an hour ago I hadn't worked through all my issues. Somehow, after a good cry, I have sinced figured out what is at the root of it all. So really, this post is useless. If you would all like to respond by posting examples of when you are irrational and over-emotional it might help me feel better though. Or maybe I am just really screwed up.

I just sent an email to my BFF about this so I am going to edit names out and use that version:

Last year I made Christmas dinner at the IL's. SIL-a insisted that her mother make 'her' stuffing so she made extra.

Flashforward to a few weeks ago, I mentioned making dinner for Thanksgiving. I KNEW that it wasn't finalized but DH kept saying that his mom was fine with it, that she had heard me say that I offered to do it/wanted to do it, etc...I should have listened to my gut because he called his parent's house yesterday and talked to his dad about it, because I wanted to know how big the turkey was and what time they wanted to have dinner.

Today I got an email from MIL more or less saying that she 'heard I wanted to make dinner'...that sounds like she had NO idea and that they had a turkey already (I knew that, I was just going to use theirs) and that the girls had asked for her stuffing, 'tradition, you know'.  So she said she would make the turkey but that she could pick up whatever veggies I needed for the rest. WELL FUUCK THAT, I said to myself. I either make the whole thing or nothing. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset (like really pissed off). I knew I was being petty, I mean, my reason for making the dinner in the first point (other than I like to cook) is because I think its shitty that MIL gets stuck doing it for every big holiday. And she doesn't seem to really want to. Last year she was excited when I offered to do Christmas. 

Combine all this with the fact that my immune system is failing, I have a sore on/in my nose and when I got this email from her I was sitting in the waiting room to be seen for my pick eye, which I woke up with and then had to run to work and get plans up on the fly. 

Now I am sitting at Kia because my car's brake pads are done. I am waiting to find out if they are done at the $250 level, $500 level or, $1000 level. We have savings - that was meant for a house, but still, not the end of the world.

So, in between the doctor's office and Kia, during my drive, it hits me, as I begin to BAWL in the car, that what pisses me off the most is that the girls are all about their traditions. I don't get any tradtions, my fucking traditions died 5 years ago. My last big meal with my mom was thanksgiving dinner, a dinner where she taught me how to roast a turkey and make her stuffing. And then Christmas she was gone and I had to make it without her. It suddenly occurred to me why I was reacting so strongly to all of it. This is the 5 year anniversary of her death, and while I don't usually read into crap like that, I guess it is affecting me somehow (combined with my body being tired).

Anyways. I told MIL I don't want to do it. I said it nicely, that I had overstepped my bounds and that I didn't want to impede on any traditions. I don't feel like making half a meal. I said we could bring dessert. I hope she backs the off about it now because now that I know why I am reacting the way I am I want nothing to do with it. I don't even want to go but I would never want to do that to DH.  

And I know my SILs aren't clinging to their 'tradition' to spite me, but it still irks me that they are so effing picky about their food. I mean, I get it, it's 'their' family, they should get to like what they eat, but still, they NEVER offer to make those kinds of big meals. I offered as soon as I could. I get it that I am probably overstepping. And I get it, they don't like my fucking stuffing. It's okay, one day I will have a family and we will eat my mom's stuffing and I will be happy again. Til then, I will suck it up sally and get over myself.

I swore a lot, sorry.
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