we are officially going out of our minds

WARNING: THIS IS A RANT. I don't often do this. This is written in anger and should not be taken as the whole truth.

Over the past three-and-a-half months since we've moved here, we have been through hell.

If we are to believe everything that my in-laws (Mom, Dad, Sister, and Neice) have communicated to us, and to each other within our hearing, then we are terrible parents. Our children are loud, unruly, and disrespectful. They break things. We make poor decisions regarding discipline and our childrens' welfare.

We are stupid because we didn't know what we were getting into when we moved here. We don't understand how much groceries cost. We are beggars, freeloaders, and thieves. We couldn't survive in Louisiana so we wormed our way into the house. We are too lazy to go out and earn enough money to support ourselves. We are stupid, disrespectful, and arrogant because we don't share the opinions of everyone else in the house.

In the beginning, we relied heavily on the them for food. The last few weeks, we have been eating only our own groceries, with the exception of some fruit and juice. Plenty of groceries that we have bought, others in the house have shared. We have spent hundreds of dollars per month on groceries. Nevertheless, MIL insisted - in front of their guests - that they buy the groceries for everone. When Michelle gave examples of things we had bought, she was ignored.

Before we moved into the house, we made our situation clear. We had to move thirteen hundred miles, get good jobs, find a suitable place to live. We told them it might take us a long time to get settled. Michelle's business had just begun to take off in Louisiana. She would have to start all over again. I would have to get a job that paid better than what I had before, because I would have to pay for a mortgage and student loans, expenses that we did not have before. We told them we would need help, and that if they were not prepared, then we would wait until we could do it on our own. They told us they would gladly give us all the help we needed, for as long as was necessary.

Things were great for the first two weeks. We talked a lot. They drove around with us and helped us learn the lay of the land. They have helped us by sharing food. And, of course, by giving us a bedroom to sleep in, and access to bathroom and kitchen facilities, and paying the increased utilities. They have given us a lot. But they have also treated us like dirt.

They have refused to babysit, even if they weren't doing anything and it was only for an hour or two. They have refused to help us with directions or driving to places. They sit in the family room, which is the only room other than our bedroom that the children can play in, and they watch r-rated movies with the volume so loud, you can hear it throughout the entire house. Even worse, you can see the screen from the kitchen. So, we can't have the kids in the kitchen or family room a lot of the time.

When Michelle announced that she was pregnant, she was told that it was their worst nightmare. Admittedly, I was a bit scared myself (just read my previous entry about it). But I got over that quickly, and now I'm thrilled, but they won't talk about it. They get uncomfortable when Michelle mentions the pregnancy and they change the subject.

Before we moved in, we tried to learn all the "ground rules" of the house. We were always told not to worry about it, that it wasn't necessary to talk about it. Then, whenever we tried to do anything, we were told were doing it wrong. We're not allowed to use the kitchen garbage disposer. We're not allowed to run the dishwasher. We are not allowed to do any cleaning, except in our room.

Michelle was told to fill the laundry machine full, to conserve water. Then, she was told that she overfills it. The closet door has to be closed just right. I've watched them - none of them takes care to shut it the way we were told to shut it. Every single thing in the house, there's a certain way to do it, and the wrong way to do it (which is whatever way we happen to do it.)

We begged and pleaded for a laundry and bathroom schedule, but we are the only ones who keep it. When we break the schedule, which we have to do sometimes because other people use our time slot, people get furious and we never hear the end of it.

Michelle has been accused of stealing little things - things we brought with us into the house! Like a hair clip, and a pair of scissors.

We have been lied to. When Michelle and I had a conversation with Michelle's other sister, who does not live in the house, we were promised - emphatically, and several times - that nothing we said would be repeated to other family members. We vented some of our frustrations, hoping for some advice or support. Instead, she told them everything we said, and since then she will not speak to us! She did send an angry e-mail to Michelle. Michelle sent a carefully-worded but firm response. Now, that sister's family won't have anything to do with us. As far as I can tell, they're lunatics.

Everything that has gone wrong in the house has been blamed on us. We have broken the television, two towel racks, a curtain rod, a toilet paper holder, the automatic garage door opener, the toaster, the drawer in the side of the kitchen table, and various toys that did not belong to us. There are probably other things we've been blamed for that we haven't heard about.

Whenever someone gets sick, it's our fault for spreading germs around. We are told that we must use paper towels when using the bathroom. Meanwhile, they're still getting sick. At least twice, it has been SIL who has gotten sick first. Anyway, germs make people sick, so even if we do get sick first, why are we blamed? It's tantamount to telling us we lack good hygeine!

When we first moved in, MIL apologized for the smell in our room. The previous owners kept animals in here. Somehow, since we moved in, the smell has become our fault. I'm sure they will blame us for the smell forever now.

People have entered our room and taken things when we weren't there, and several times we have come home after staying with other relatives and found the door to our room locked. They are the kind of doors that use no keys, but can be opened with a small screwdriver. The screwdriver was not in its proper place in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

When we first moved in, we were told not to use too much toilet paper. If we had to wipe more than once, we should flush in-between wipings. The toilets get clogged easily.

The upstairs toilet got clogged this past week. SIL flipped out. I came out into the hall to see what was going on. FIL explained that he didn't know who it was (meaning he didn't know which member of my family was responsible) but someone either used too much tp or put something in the toilet that didn't belong there.

Apparently, they cannot use a plunger because the bottom of the toilet is an odd shape. They think they cannot use a chemical drain opener because they have a septic system.

SIL had put some chemical from a jug into the toilet. At first I thought it was a drain clog remover. She was furious. She complained that with the fumes, she was taking her life into her hands using this stuff. Later on I looked at the bottle, and it was a once-a-month treatment to prevent buildup in the pipes. Those kinds of treatments don't remove clogs once they have occured!

I could be wrong, but I'm almost positive I've seen drain openers that are formulated specifically for septic systems, but of course I can't tell them that because I'm a moron and they won't listen to a word Michelle or I say to them. Whether or not such a product exists, I don't understand why a toilet clog has to be such a huge issue. Toilets get clogged, it's just a sad fact of life.

Every time some little thing happens, they act like it's the end of the world. I have never heard so much complaining about a toilet in my life.

FIL got some kind of routing tool, and scraping sounds reverberated through the house for hours. Now there are scratch marks all over the bottom of the toilet.

But that's just the beginning. A couple of days later, the toilet in the downstairs half-bath got clogged.

We've been keeping to ourselves a lot the last few weeks, so the first inkling we had of anything wrong was raised voices from downstairs. I hear MIL say, among other things: "The last time this happened was when (some friend's kids) were over, and at least then they admitted it!"

Although she did not intend it to be so, MIL's comment was very ironic. You see, although they will blame us for everything and get angry with us, they will not actually talk to us about anything.

No one seems to remember that the same day the downstairs toilet got clogged, NIL was babysitting a neighbor's kid and he was the last one to use the bathroom. They just assume that whatever goes wrong, we did it. We can't defend ourselves because they don't give us the opportunity. I think it's ridiculous that we should even feel that we have to defend ourselves in the first place. So anyway, now the downstairs toilet has scratches in it, too.

I can't begin to tell you all the background on this family. That is, I could write some but it wouldn't be fair to tell family secrets on a public blog, even if I don't use their names. Someone, someday, might learn who we are. Besides, I've given the web address to family and friends before, even if there are very few who have ever visited or commented. They could still be reading.

Let me just say that if there is anything good about these people (and I know it's there somewhere), I just can't see it right now.