I am too embarrassed to talk about this with any of my IRL friends.
My idiot husband allowed a stranger remote access to his computer. From a cold call. Because they offered him a "good deal" and showed him shiny pictures of a website deal.
First, let me say that I generally get along with my skids. That is because I am mostly disengaged and let their father do all the relationship maintenance, gift buying, birthday remembering, etc. But I am not so disengaged that we never speak about his kids. It works for us.
DH's sister, mid 70s lives alone and has no children, is having medical issues to the point where she may not be able to live alone much longer. We all hate it -- she has been strong and independent her whole life.
DH and another sibling are taking care of everything for her and will help with decisions, logistics, all of that. Of course SD knows what needs to be done more than anyone else. But that's not my issue today.
momjeans had this brilliant insight in her blog earlier: I’ve recently observed that DH most likely feels he’s somehow better off, and not in the line of fire, if he springs information like this on me last minute.
I hate skid worship. In my case, it has extended into adulthood.
Don't get me wrong, I love my bio completely and unconditionally. But the fact that she can make a mean peanut butter sandwich isn't really cause for balloons and glitter. I expect her to take care of herself, and the fact that she does is not a cause for celebration. I'm proud of her independence, for sure, and I tell her so.
Not a huge problem, but he's dang irritating.
He has been acting like a lovesick puppy when it comes to his adult daughter. I have had issues with SD in the past, but other than being a know-it-all, she is generally respectful and inclusive toward me since I disengaged. Funny how that works.
Because they know everything. About everything.
Crickets. Oh, not from everybody. DH's sister called me. My bestie called. Several others. Nice cards and flowers and donations from people at work.
My Mom was 99 and ready to go, but I will miss her. And I am grieving more intensely than I thought I would, given her age, poor health, and the relief I feel now that she is not suffering. But I'm ok with that. It's a process.
I've had a vivid and very pleasant childhood memory stick with me the last couple of days. So I told DH about it.