Posted by: bossybetsy on: August 17, 2009
Dear Betsy:
My mom is a hoarder. Not a scary rats nest type of hoarder, and things are somewhat if not entirely clean, but enough of a hoarder that every corner of my parents’ house is stuffed with, well, stuff. She’s something of a compulsive shopper as well, and is always convinced she’s found “a deal” on something or other. That isn’t true most of the time as she tends to forget things like tax and that if you buy two of things for the price of one, you’ve got two things, at least one of which you don’t need. She’s completely resistant to the idea that she is a hoarder. She otherwise has an active social life and lots of friends, and holds a decent job. She is still married to my father and their marriage appears fairly healthy. The hoarding is frustrating to me personally, but it’s far from the kind of squalor that would involve social services or be dangerous. Essentially, as a capable adult, she can choose hoarding, and she does.
Where I need advice is how to handle the hoarding when it spills over into our house and life. I realize I cannot change her. However, the hoarding affects my life significantly because of the sheer amount of stuff that she brings to our house and the enormous frustration it engenders. Every single occasion is a gift occasion. For instance, Easter now involves elaborate gift bags and piles and piles of wrapped presents. It looks like a normal family’s Christmas. There are Mother’s Day presents, Father’s Day presents, Valentine’s presents, and May Day presents. Christmas is absolutely insane as it takes literally hours to open all the presents from her. The presents are not remotely well-considered. While they aren’t cheap crap, they are clearly the undirected and unwanted result of desperately walking around stores looking for yet one more thing. Sometimes the gifts are over-the-top inappropriate, such as the pair of sexy underwear she put in one Easter bag one year, which I opened in front of a crowd of guests. She also brings over “deals” she finds at any point during the year and is demonstrably sulky if I don’t use the gift, which I rarely do.
The amount of gifts is totally overwhelming. She gets sulky and hurt if you give back a big percentage of the gifts. I do it anyhow, because I can’t manage literally truckloads of stuff coming into our very small house. I am polite about it, and say something like “Thank you, but that won’t work for us right now,” but really, there is no polite way to refuse pile of gifts you’ve just opened. Even so, the remaining amount is overwhelming. I just freecycled some presents from Christmas three years ago, and there are boxes of this stuff laying around the garage that I still haven’t managed. My husband and I are very, very busy with family and work, and I find myself very angry and resentful at having to spend precious time and mental energy on these gifts. Worse, there is managing her sulkiness if I am not properly appreciative (read: fawning) over the gifts.
The other major issue is that she buys our kids piles and piles of presents. It’s one thing for me to dispose of my presents, but I can’t take presents away from my kids after they’ve opened them. Yet we cannot possibly store all the toys she dumps on us. I find myself having to squirrel away toys after they’re asleep and quietly dispose of them. It’s sneaky, draining, and ineffective against the onslaught.
I know the traditional Miss Manners rule is that you are only supposed to say thank you to gifts. Refusing gifts is rude, etc. etc. But I can’t think she’s ever been related to a hoarder. This past Christmas, she kept harassing me for gift choice lists, gift lists being an annual joke because she will buy literally everything on the list and then at least two times more. I was totally exhausted due to work and medical issues and finally snapped at her: “What I really want is nothing — just like I ask you every Christmas and never get.” She got very sulky. I apologized a few days later, and she said she understood. But at Christmas, she presented me with boxes and boxes of gifts, the same as always. We have made a rule that we do not go to their house for Christmas, because I want to love Christmas with my own family, which I do if I don’t see my mom on Christmas day and don’t have to face the pile of presents. My blood pressure starts to rise every single time I think about the gifts. I get literally sick to my stomach if I have to go over to their house when I know there will be gifts.
I’ve considered telling her that every single gift she gives me will go to charity. But it seems beyond rude to do that just to her and not to anybody else in the family despite the fact that everybody else is sane as far as gifts go. I wish we lived far away, but I have established a career here, have a lot of friends, and like it here, so proximity will always be an issue.
I don’t know how to handle this. It’s only going to get worse as the kids get older, I think. Our house is tiny and we won’t be moving to a bigger house any time soon. I find managing the sheer amount of stuff totally exhausting and overwhelming. I know my siblings feel the same way, but nobody wants to deal with being the ungrateful kid, so we all suck it up. But I am going to lose it, and lose it big, one of these days, which won’t help anything. Any advice?
–Much Too Much
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Posted by: bossybetsy on: August 12, 2009
Dear Betsy,
My husband recently got an email from an 18-year-old kid he’s never met. The boy said he is my husband’s brother. As far as he knew, he didn’t have a brother. But the kid knew things about his dad that most people don’t, so he asked his father, and his father admitted that the boy is his.
As you can imagine, this came as quite a shock to the whole family–his mom, who as of now is still married to his dad, his sister, and him. They had no idea that my father-in-law was keeping a secret this big. He apparently broke it off with the boy’s mom a long time ago, but he paid child support. He had to do some creative bookkeeping to prevent my mother-in-law from finding out.
He had no idea his other son, we’ll call him Kyle, was going to contact the rest of the family. He is angry at Kyle, which if you ask me is ridiculous. It’s not the kid’s fault he was put in the middle of this.
My husband has no idea what to do. For thirty years he thought he knew his family, but it turns out to all have been a lie. He thought his dad was a decent guy, but he’s not. He thought he was his father’s only son, but he’s not. He’s trying to process all of this, but it’s hard.
I don’t know how to help him. He has been focusing on being angry at his dad and trying to hold up his mom, who is shocked and devastated. If he’s given any thought to what to do about Kyle, he hasn’t told me about it. I don’t know what to tell him. What should I do? What should he do?
Sincerely,
I Kind of Want to Kick My Father-in-law in the Nads
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Posted by: bossybetsy on: August 11, 2009
Dear Bossy Betsy,
My problem is one of too much information. My sister-in-law and her husband have been having (hushed voice of great concern) “marital problems” for a few months now; this much is an open secret among the family. They’re high school sweethearts, and her entire family has known and loved him and regarded him as one of the family since before he had a driver’s license, so everybody is rooting for them to work it out.
The four of us hang out pretty frequently, and they’ve both confided in my husband and me, both separately and together, about the nature of their struggles. I’m of the opinion that it’s never a good idea to meddle in somebody’s marriage, and I’m especially eager to keep out of it since I, too, am an in-law here and thus worry that it’s none of my business, but at the same time, I don’t want to turn away a genuine request for help.
The thing is, my SIL’s husband doesn’t have all the information here. SIL is cheating on him with a co-worker, and has been for a number of months. Her feelings for the colleague are strong, and she has no intention of breaking off the relationship (although as of now, she also has no plans to leave her husband). She told her brother, and he in turn let the word slip to me.
Now I feel terrifically awkward. Her husband keeps coming to my husband and me in good faith, wondering what he can do to improve things, and pressing me especially for a “female perspective” on what she’s looking for. And the truth is… nothing that you’ve got, champ.
I’ve tried to put him off by just listening and making sympathetic noises, but he’s an excessively practical sort and is truly dedicated to making his marriage work, so he’s constantly pressuring for specific action-oriented suggestions and in-depth analysis, and the guilt over knowing a vital piece of the story that he’s missing is starting to tear me up.
I know, I know, stay out of it. But it’s getting old to pretend that I don’t know what I do know; I’m sick of the multiple layers of subterfuge. Is there anything at all I can do?
Thanks,
More Than I Wanted To Know
Dear More Than,
Posted by: bossybetsy on: August 4, 2009
Hi. I haven’t been around much this past month. We had an extremely unexpected death in the family a month ago. I haven’t had much focus since then. Or the ability to, like, care about things. And now I have to go do a memorial thing for the next week in a place without the internet (I know!), so I’ll be checked out for a little while longer. Hopefully I’ll be back when I’m back.
While I’m gone, please send me a letter at advice at bossybetsy.com. If you don’t have anything in your life that you need advice about, I would love to have more Great Questions in History. I’ll give you an example to get you started: do you think that Thomas Jefferson (setting aside the slavery thing for the moment, because he didn’t seem to have a problem with it) was at all bothered by sleeping with his dead wife’s sister? Do you think he gave that a moment’s thought? Or was that part of the appeal? These are things I think about.
Have a good week. I’ll see you when I get back.
Posted by: bossybetsy on: July 28, 2009
Dear Bossy Betsy,
My ex and I broke up over two years ago. We were in touch for a while, until one day I woke up and realized he was an self-involved assface. The last time I “talked” to him was to turn him down when he booty-called me at 4:30 in the morning last summer. I didn’t hear from him until Christmas when he texted me something saccharine. Then he texted me on my birthday and signed it “Your friend, X” And has also friended me on FB and invited me to a party. But that was a couple months ago, and I figured all the ignoring had done its trick. But.
A couple months ago, I got involved in a soccer meetup.com group near my neighborhood (not where he lives). I go a couple times a week and am getting to know the people there. Imagine my horror to see him one day on the RSVP list for a game. I emailed one of the organizers, told him what was up, and asked that we not be put on the same team. No problem. The day of the game, other than saying hey when he came up to me, I ignored him for three hours. Again, I hoped he would FINALLY get the message.
But now I see he’s signed up for a game tomorrow. Now, I *know* that I signed up for this game before him, and there is little doubt that at this point, he’s doing it on purpose. I’m getting really pissed off. Should I keep ignoring him? Tell him off? On the one hand, he’s a narcissistic creep who needs to be the center of attention at all times and I know for a fact that ignoring him drives him crazy. But he. just. won’t. leave. me. alone.
One of my friends said I needed to email him and say that his presence makes me uncomfortable and that he needs to leave the group. However, I know him well enough that any intimation that he is doing this on purpose will just get the response “Don’t flatter yourself.” And he is completely lacking in boundaries or respect for other people. Also I do not want to give him the satisfaction. Since the only thing he is upsetting is my punching fist.
Signed,
How Can I Miss You If You Won’t Go Away?
Dear Miss You, Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by: bossybetsy on: July 24, 2009
Dear Betsy,
I write to you from the depths of my own suckitude, hoping for either absolution or a kick in the ass.
I was participating in an exchange through an internet forum we’ll call Schmable Schmalk. The way it works, one person packs up all of the yarn s/he over-optimistically bought and mails it to the next person on the list. Each subsequent person on the list can take yarn from the box and add some more in. It works great. Unless someone – we’ll call her Schmeth – stops the chain. There were maybe 25 people signed up to get on the box train, and it made it to about five or six people before it got to Schmeth.
So first I had some local friends who wanted to bring their own yarn to the box. And then there was a panicked house-cleaning session, and the box got shoved under a table. And then there was a misunderstanding, and one person thought the other person mailed the box, and lo the box still lurked under the table. And then Christmas was over and the box came to light and I was all OH CRAP and then the Schmable Schmalkers started making “Where is the Box?” noises and I was all “Sorry! Sorry! Here it comes!”
And then the box went to the basement, because I was going to sort everything and put stuff I was keeping on Ravelry and put the rest in the box, and make the box REALLY GOOD to make up for keeping it for so long.
And then I got a new job. And blah blah ONE MILLION THINGS LATER someone else on Schmabel Schmalk is all “Box?” And I was all AHHH CRAP BOX. And I went back downstairs to my sortus interruptus and…
Long story short? (Too late! you all cry.) The box? Has moths. Which pretty much means everything has to be thrown out. There is no box.
My embarrassment is extreme, my denial more so. I have now ignored the situation for so long that I’m pretty sure that there is no way for me to fix it, short of spending $400 at Colorworks and shipping that out as The Box. But the current box, in its horrifying mothy state, is sitting downstairs emanating guilt rays at an intensity I thought only my mother was capable of.
I am officially stuck. You’re smart. Tell me what to do.
Love, Mothra
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Posted by: bossybetsy on: July 6, 2009
I’m on hiatus for a while. Back later.
Posted by: bossybetsy on: July 2, 2009
Dear Betsy,
I recently celebrated my birthday by having dinner with my husband’s family. His mother gave me a very expensive sweater that was emphatically and rather obviously not my style, but I smiled graciously, thanked her, and praised it anyway. She responded, “Oh, there’s no need for that – I know you hate it. I knew you’d hate it when I picked it out. But I didn’t know what to get you, so I figured I’d just deliberately pick something you’d hate.”
I think I stammered something about appreciating the thought, and then we all marinated in the awkwardness for a moment, and then some kind soul changed the subject. But, Betsy… WTF? What is she trying to tell me with this? Does she hate me? What on earth should I have said? Is there some classy rejoinder I could have deployed to salvage this situation? And finally, how can I resist the temptation to grab my husband by the collar and scream WHY IS YOUR MOTHER SUCH A HOSEBEAST?
Thanks for your help,
Well, I’m Definitely Sweating
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Posted by: bossybetsy on: June 29, 2009
Today I would like to introduce a new series called “Great Questions in History.” Have you ever wondered what would happen if a historical figure had written to an advice column? I have. We’ll start with Slick.
Dear Betsy,
I met this girl, and I sense something strange in my mind. The situation is serious. I can’t get it out of my head. The thing is, my friends say that she’s dangerous. Poison, even. That seems awfully harsh. I’m not sure what to do. She has a great smile, and her butt is so big you could project movies on it. I’m a sucker for a big butt and a smile. This has happened to me before, and every time I get burned, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
I don’t know what to do. Should I trust her, or listen to my friends? Rick says he and the crew used to do her, but I don’t want to believe it.
Signed,
Slick
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Posted by: bossybetsy on: June 26, 2009
Dear Bets-can-I-call-you-Bets,
I keep my hair mostly shaved off due to hair loss. Sometimes I wear hats, sometimes I go punk, and sometimes I wear wigs.
After a lifetime of remarkably uninspiring hair I find myself unprepared for the compliments I get when I’m wearing a wig (insert rant about irony of stupid hair-industry beauty standards here) and I find myself overexplaining almost every time. Under some circumstances I’m comfortable saying “thanks” and moving on, and under some circumstances it makes me really uncomfortable.
If I’m in mixed company, and some people know it’s fake hair and some people don’t, accepting the compliment makes me feel like a liar. So then there’s a silly Q&A period where I try to make it clear that I don’t mind being bald, that I’m not trying to put one over on people by wearing a wig, that it’s just a fashion accessory.
Conversely, if I’m in a random public place and some stranger says they like my hair, I smile and accept the compliment as gracefully as I can. But often they will ask more detailed questions about it and again I end up “copping” to the fact it’s not real hair and getting pulled into a script that’s probably boring for both of us.
I’m not sure what to do!
Best,
Mary Mary Quite ContrHairy
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