Mother-to-mother (in-law)
NS October 1st, 2009
I am a lucky woman in that I get along fabulously with my mother-in-law. Our relationship wasn’t always so effortless or, dare I say, close as it is now (we had a few minor snits in the beginning of mine and TNH’s marriage) but 98% of the time we get on really well. The other two percent of the time just means that I really do consider her family. After all, everyone gets slightly annoyed with people they love occasionally!
Every Thursday I bring The Noble Child here to her house (from where I’m writing this) so they can spend the day together and so I only have one child to look after. Sometimes I leave and go do other things, sometimes I stick around for coffee and a chat and end up staying here all day, happy to just have some company and a hand in looking after both the kids. We talk about them as only a parent or grandparent could (“He did the cutest thing the other day. Watch!” *cue endless attempts to get a repeat performance*; “I got her to eat broccoli the other day, it was amazing!”) and ask for each other’s opinions on the day’s news as I flick through the papers. She’ll ask me a question about my childhood and I hers. We find out things about one another that you only find out by just hanging out in a low-key, informal setting. It’s lovely, definitely, but it makes me incredibly sad sometimes as well.
I want to do this with MY mother. Sometimes I want her to be the one to come rescue us when we’re all sick and can’t get out of bed, or have us over for Sunday lunch. I would give anything to be able to just pop in for a coffee and look on admiringly and contentedly as the children play, chatting and sharing and scheduling family events. Every Christmas, birthday, summer party or milestone achievement finds me taking pictures frantically, trying to capture for my parents what TNH’s have just seen with their own eyes.
The guilt and the sadness can be overwhelming sometimes.
And even though I comfort myself by thinking about a possible future move to be closer to my family, I’m then reminded that my inlaws will be put in my parents’ position and how difficult it would be for all of us to leave them behind. They’re our family, too.
I will always be pulled in two different directions by the two nationalities in my family, my two homes. I knew that upon becoming an expat. But I didn’t realise how much harder it would get after having children.
I can’t dwell on these thoughts though, I just can’t. My heart won’t allow it.
So I pour another coffee and smile at my mother-in-law’s comment on how tall TNC is getting and remind myself to count the blessings in my life, not the hardships.
