Tales of batshit crazy in laws…

I have a really lovely mother in law. She is lovely. She cries when I cry and laughs when I laugh. I’m lucky.

 However before my husband I dated a guy whose mother I could liken to the mother on the show, bates motel. She would wear my clothes, lay in the middle of my boyfriend and I, tell his brother how I was trying to break them up as a family, get drunk and tell me how worthless I was… She was a real treat. Thank god I did not marry that guy, he was a cheating douche anyway so it worked out okay, but she would have been the icing on the cake. A bitter icing, on a moistless onion cake… 
I love hearing stories about batshit crazy in-laws and am apart of a forum where mainly women come together to share their tales of horror. So for a bit of fun, I thought I’d compile a list of their stories (with their permission) and have some tips to survive the dreaded in-laws. 

Names have been changed to protect their identity, hell hath no fury like a mother in law scorned. 
The “life is short” in-laws 
Sarah* has her future mother in law Gladdice. (lol I know, lame but I’m not creative in changing names). Gladdice is the mother in law that complains her life is coming to an end and she might wake up dead when things don’t go her way. She clutches at her heart and her hand lays across her forehead. “I’m dying, why won’t you invite bobs aunt’s goats daughter to the wedding?? I might wake up dead tomorrow.”
No Gladdice, no. Don’t be a batshit crazy in law. You are not dying. The goat cannot come to the wedding so shut up.
Of course you can’t exactly say that, or maybe you can. How to handle this? Call 000, you want to pretend to die? Let’s give you the orchestra you deserve. The sound of sirens. 

The “my son is precious” in laws
Maria has been married for 4 years to Bobbie. Maria is an excellent cook, mother, and all round nurturer. But for some reason, Bobbie’s mother can see that Bobbie is starving, living in filth and her children are severely neglected. “Oh Bobbie,” she says, “you look so skinny, doesn’t your wife feed you?” Or “oh Bobbie, when you lived at home you never got sick, here let me wash you and make you chicken soup”.
No Bobbie’s mum, no. Don’t be a batshit crazy in law. Your son is over 120kgs, he is well fed and man flu isn’t a real illness. Shut up. 
How to fix this? Tell Bobbie to GO move back in with your f***kin mother or tell her to shut up. 😉

The “talk to you through your children via passive aggressive statements” in law
“Isn’t your mummy feeding you?”, “why are you crying? What did your mother to do you?”, “has mummy been nice to you today?”, “you are skin and bones, come here and grandma will cook you a decent meal”.
No. Just no. Shut up. Bat. Shit. Crazy.
How to deal with this? “Tell grandma how you saw that lovely lady at a nursing home 24 miles away from us on that commercial and how she looked just like grandma”. I’m sure they cook decent meals there. 

The ultimate batshit crazy in-laws

They come to your house uninvited, they say the rudest things, they share depressive statuses on Facebook about how their children have neglected them for their spouses, they are the ultimate. 
What can you do? Not a lot.
But what I can offer you in forms of advice of what I learnt from my crazy ex is to not take it personal. How people act and respond to situations is a reflection of them, not you. It is impacting your life, yes, but it really isn’t your fault as much as they’d like you to believe that. Projection is the mask for insecurities. 
Sometimes you have to master the art of communication and let them know that their prescious children are still theres, and you’re not there to take them away. 
Don’t be offended by the small things. Those passive aggressive comments to your children? Laugh them off, and say “yeah, we starved her for 8 days straight.”   I mean fark it, why not. Unless they’re ultimate bat shit crazy and will call CPS on you, then you’re on your own. Move interstate, or overseas. Get out. Quick. 

Make sure you have space. Tell your partner you can’t always visit every week so you can have some time away from the toxicity. It’s better for everyone. If they live with you, move. Get out. Quick. 
If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it all. Sometimes you gotta be the bigger woman and let them know you’re not playing the game and kill them with kindness. 
And finally, understand that one day you too might be a bat shit crazy in law, so cut em some slack, Afterall, you’re sleeping with the man who will chose their nursing home, that’s the ultimate power right?