We were always close and I was very much a home bird. However, when I got married, because XH could only find work in a specific area of the UK, miles from "home", we had to live quite a distance apart and saw each other approximately once a fortnight. This changed to weekly after I had my DT.
When my DT were a few months old, I fell pregnant again. And then I found out (while in hospital on a drip thanks to severe morning sickness) that "D"H had been having an affair.
My parents were brilliant. No doubt about that. I was discharged from hospital into their care and they got me through the remainder of my pregnancy, looking after me, DT, helping me find a house to rent, etc. When DC3 was born, they continued to pitch in and we saw them daily. They also minded the DC when I returned to work part-time.
Fast-forward. DC are all now of school age with friends, after school activities and what can only be described as hectic social lives. I still work part-time while the kids are in school. But my relationship with my parents seems almost broken beyond repair.
My parents think that I used them when I needed them. They think they are now shut out/excluded. It's been getting worse and worse for years (DC are now 8 and 7) and I don't know how to fix it.
Example; DT unwell. DC3's best friend passes our front door en route to school. I ask her mum (my good friend) if DC3 can walk to school with them to save hauling DT out of bed first thing in the morning. Friend only too happy to oblige, DC3 and her friend skip off giggling and holding hands. Great. I later tell DM and am told I should have let her and DF know. They would have driven 6 miles to collect DC3 and take her to school for me. Why am I so determined to exclude them?
There are many, many examples and perhaps I should be more thoughtful but to me, I handled things the sensible way. There's nothing to stop DP coming over, being here all day if they want and I told them that. But they "know when they're not wanted".
I could let them help round the clock. I couldn't cope with that. I ended up on meds and seeing a counsellor because I just deal with the constant smothering. They phrase it like; "if you let us help, it'll be much better". I hear; "if we do it for you, it'll be much better because you're nowhere near good enough on your own". Maybe that's my illness/paranoia? That's what I'm told when I try and explain how I feel to them. But really, I'm just sick to death of having everything questioned and criticised.
This is where I feel like SUCH a bitch... DF has just been diagnosed with cancer. It's curable but it is still cancer and there's a long road ahead, treatment-wise. I'm being told that the thing that keeps him/them going is having a sense of purpose, knowing that they're wanted. That being excluded is harder to come to terms with than the cancer diagnosis.
I've told them over and over and OVER (for years now) that they ARE wanted. That they're welcome any time. I don't want to go back to the days of having no ptivacy/no life of my own but it seems like because we had that weird year or so where we were together SO much, boundaries have now been completely blurred and it's like I'm a child again. I tried explaining that I want them to treat me like they would anyone else - a friend, for example. Come in, spend time with us. Don't question when I last hoovered. Or if I've eaten - what I've eaten. Or have I got a lot of ironing piled up again? I've a massive ironing pile. Always. I don't care. I pick stuff out of it at night when the kids go to bed and in the morning, they have their nice pile of fresh clothes to put on and the sky doesn't fall in. It feels like they seek out and highlight my shortcomings. But I know they're actually just trying to seek out ways to help. I don't want help. Not that level of help anyway. I just want them here, playing with the kids, enjoying them, having a laugh and a bit of fun. Like normal grandparents. Meanwhile, I'll deal with the running of my own life.
But if I do that, it's rejection. Worse than a cancer diagnosis. How do I win? I can't, can I? Am I the prize bitch that they seem to think I am?
Please don't be too hard on me - I'm sick like you wouldn't believe over all of this. I just don't know any more if they're right - am I mentally ill? Is it normal to have your mum come over and change your (already clean!!) bedding for you when you're a 36yr old mother of 3? Is she just doing a nice, normal thing? Or am I justified in thinking it's just too much? What about DF's cancer? He's going through the hardest of times right now. And am I really making him feel worse? Or is it what I think; that they just won't listen and understand?
I'm sorry this is so long...