The Laws of In-Laws

When I agreed to move to Mississippi with my husband, I was quite apprehensive.  I didn’t want to move to Gulfport, MS.  My husband had nothing but bad story after bad story about Gulfport and his growing up here.  I almost DIDN’T come at all.

Save for my husbands Aunt.  I have debated about this.  Talking about it.  I haven’t known anyone personally with Cancer of any kind.  Only from afar, you know, a friend of a friend, a family member that I never really knew anyway.  My husband was partly raised by his Aunt.

She has battled Cervical cancer for a while.  This time, I am guessing it came back.  She had to have a radical surgery where a lot of things were removed and her chance of surviving through the surgery was 30%.  She survived.

What is bothering me so much though are her kids.  Her 11 year old and 17 year old daughters.  The 17 year old, I am not too worried about because she will be graduating and will off to college.  I cant really get into everything but, there is so much dysfunction.


EXTREME dysfunction.  I am preparing myself to take on a even more responsibility for the 11 year old.  When we moved to our apartment, we rented a 3 bedroom apartment, just in case.  Lord, I don’t know if I can do this.  How do you deprogram verbal abuse?  Or teach an 11 year old how to socialize?  Or let her know that having fun is ok.  Talking about having fun is ok?  That it’s ok to feel anger?  It’s ok to cry?  To be LOUD?

My Aunt went back to the hospital last week.  This week we found out she had seizures over the weekend and it didn’t look good at all.  She is much better, thank God.  In  fact she is doing really well.  But still.  It’s hard.  My husbands family is so much unlike mine.  They think kids should be seen and not heard.  To me, Kids are kids.  They do stupid kid stuff, right??  *sigh*

You know, every month I pray and fret over getting pregnant because I want another baby so bad.  I also want to adopt but it seems like God keeps saying, “It’s not time” and keeps giving me this crap to deal with.  I get tired.  Often times, I want to just say the heck with it and be a mean old biddy, but I can’t.  I love my husbands family.  I love my husband.  I love God. 

Rant over.