It’s one of those days where I feel like I need to do something exciting, but for the life of me, I cannot think of anything to do that sounds exciting. What is happening to me?
The weather is delicious. I have a couple windows opened. When Ben saw me open them, he announced that we were going to air out the house. Note to self: Must be careful what one says around said child lest he repeat something I don’t want him to even know about. Ach!
This weekend is Steve’s birthday. We will be having a delightful little gathering with his family on Sunday. Of those who have been invited to attend, one party is always early, and one is always late. Before we had children, their lateness annoyed me. Now that I have children, it really annoys me. You don’t know how much I am looking forward to going to a restaurant and not just being hungry and watching other people eat while we wait for the rest of the dinner party but trying to keep my children from tearing the place down in the meantime as well. Believe me – this happenes every time we get together with these people. And they’re not always the same-amout-of-time early or late – no, it’s anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half (yes, in both directions!). So you can’t tell the early crowd to come a half hour late and the late crowd to come a half hour early or anything like that. No, you just go to the restaurant and wait.
Then, after you’ve waited and waited while watching other people eat and listened to your stomach growl and gotten more and more peeved by the minute, the late party waltzes in as though they are five minutes early. That’s right. No explanation. No apology. No remorse. Never.
It makes me angry just thinking about it.
They come and they’re late and they act as though it’s perfectly acceptable to arrive when they do. They’re all socialable and chatty and glad to see us. I get short tempered when I’m hungry. I get short tempered when people are late and I have to wait for them. I get short tempered when I have to try and make my children act like their adults rather than children because we’re at a restaurant and they have to behave (they’re good for the length of a normal meal, but not much beyond that, and of course, waiting extends the length of the time we’re at the restaurant). Let me tell you, when they walk in like that, the last thing I want to do is be socialable, chatty or even civil. And no, getting together at home isn’t any easier because it is my job to keep the food warm until whenever it is that they finally arrive.
I’ve read all sorts of inlaw problems and people advice online. Every time, it seems, say it’s the daughter-in-law vs. the mother-in-law, everyone thinks the son needs to be the one to address the problem with his mother (though in this case, it’s not the mother-in-law who is the problem). That sounds great and all, but my husband is not someone who confronts people. He just isn’t. He won’t even negotiate the price of a car because he said the one time he did it, it was “the most miserable five minutes of his whole entire life.” And it isn’t like his life has always been happy and perfect either. So no, my husband isn’t going to say anything, and according to the advice I hear other people give other people, it isn’t my place to say anything either because I’m not related to these people.
If it was up to me, when we got to the restaurant and they were ready to seat us, we would sit down. When we knew what we wanted to eat and they asked for our orders, we would give them. When our food came, we would eat it. If the party that always arrives late didn’t come until we were eating the last bites of our dessert, no problem – as soon as we had paid for our meal, we would leave. Oh, they’d be hungry? Wonder what we might do about that? I think it would just be their problem and they would have to deal with it. I simply would not sit in a restaurant and wait for people who are late…always late.
Do I separate myself from the crowd and take things into my own hands? Or do I just go along with things and if nothing else, try to suffer with dignity? The party that is late all the time seems to think it appropriate to send me nasty little emails when they think I’ve done something wrong. Do I give them a taste of their own medicine?
This would be the eternal debate. Do I be “nice” or do I stand up for myself?
What part of “being habitually late is incredibly rude and inconsiderate” do they not understand? Dare I ask them?
Okay, I need to go do something else now. I’ve done enough fuming about this…every single day this week. I must go find something else to do and quit thinking about it. I’m so tired of thinking about it. I just want it to be over…until the next time I’m obligated to get together with them again and wait and wait and wait…
I feel the same way! I also dislike habitual late arrivers. I don’t know what I would do in you situation but I wish you luck!
Wouldn’t it be an option to ask them to call you when they leave home? That way you could at least stay home with the kids until you know you have just enough time to get to the restaurant at the same time they do. Grandma could enjoy the boys while you wait, since she arrives early. And, yes, if the boys get hungry, I would feed them. Being the type of personality I am, just putting up with this time after time would not work for me–I’d be too upset. I’m thinking a big confrontation isn’t the answer, at least from what I know of the people involved. But I don’t see why a nicely stated note would not be helpful–especially if you explain the situation with the kids. Maybe you could ask them to suggest how they would propose you proceed–when they are late, just be seated, order your food, and eat? or would they be willing to call when they leave home so you can get to the restaurant just in time to meet them? Just some suggestions that might work. I don’t think you can just let this keep festering.
Are we related because it seems like this is my in laws you’re describing. I do have a bit of advice, take it for what it’s worth, but it worked for us. We had this issue and it drove me up the wall for years, until I finally decided I didn’t care any more if they were late because I wasn’t waiting. If they told us they would be __ at a certain time to do X, whether or not they were, we did X as planned, whether that meant leaving without them to go to an amusement park, eating a meal without them (saving them the left overs to warm up when they arrived or eating at a restaurant by themselves because my kids had long since finished and needed to get their grumpy heads in bed.) It only took a couple times, a bit of huffiness on their part, but they understand now that when we say a certain time, we mean that time. They’ve started a meal or two with out us since then, in an attempt to “get back” at us, though I wasn’t bothered at all because at least I know they get it. It’s not for the faint at heart, they will get mad, but they also will realize they’re being rude with out you having to say “You’re being RUDE!”. If somebody had done this to my in laws years ago, I wouldn’t have had to. Though they will NEVER come out and say it, I think they might actually, kinda, sorta, respect me a little bit more now. Kinda.
Good luck! My blood was boiling just thinking about it all over again!