Connect with us

З життя

Життя у просторі: свати в розкошах, молоді в тісноті.

Published

on

Свекри мешкають у трикімнатній квартирі, а наша донька із зятем та дітьми тулиться в однокімнатній квартирці. Я кажу зятю, щоб попросив допомоги у своїх батьків на покупку більшої квартири або сам знайшов додаткову роботу. Однак донька заборонила мені втручатися в цю справу.

Коли наша донька вийшла заміж, ми зовсім не знайшли спільну мову із зятем та сватами. Ми намагаємося допомагати дітям, а свекрів наче немає. Ми родина вже 8 років. Допомагаємо їм, але ніхто цього не цінує.

Коли виникла проблема з житлом, батьки зятя вмили руки. Ми були змушені продати свою квартиру, щоб допомогти молодим купити власне житло. Ми не хотіли цього робити, адже у нас була велика, затишна квартира. Досі шкодую про це, але радий, що діти мають свій куток. Ми доклали гроші на покупку квартири, меблів, ремонт, а тепер займаємося онуками.

Від батьків зятя жодної допомоги. Я стараюся допомагати з дітьми. Донька перебуває зараз у декретній відпустці і доглядає молодшого, а старший син ходить до першого класу. Вранці я відводжу його до школи, а ввечері забираю і приводжу до себе. Я допомагаю, бо не уявляю, як би донька щодня тягнула малюка до школи і назад. Щодня ми з чоловіком їздимо до доньки і підтримуємо її, як можемо.

Батьки зятя удають, що їх це не стосується. Дивуюся, як це можливо, щоб вони були такі байдужі до родини свого сина. Але з початку так і було. До весілля не доклали ані копійки. Перед шлюбом я зателефонувала до них і попросила про зустріч, щоб обговорити підготовку. У відповідь почула, що діти скоро все одно розійдуться, тож допомагати не будуть. Абсолютно не розуміла таку позицію.

У результаті ми допомогли в організації весілля, купили житло, а свекри прийшли на весілля як чужі люди і дали дітям 200 гривень у конверті.

Не зважаючи на поведінку своїх батьків, зять вимагає від нас допомоги. Ми купили їм однокімнатну квартиру, бо тоді вони не мали дітей. Зараз він скаржиться, що змушені тулитися в однокімнатній квартирі вчотирьох. Вважаю, що зять повинен сам подбати про свою родину. Повторюю йому, що якщо не може купити більшу квартиру, нехай тепер його батьки допоможуть. Вони мешкають у трикімнатній квартирі, яка в 3 рази більша за квартиру доньки. Він стверджує, що не буде просити батьків про допомогу, бо вони не можуть фінансово його підтримати. Пропонувала сама з ними поговорити, але зять заборонив мені втручатися в цю справу. Я не хочу втручатися. Я лише хочу поговорити зі сватами і пояснити їм, що діти потребують допомоги і з їхнього боку.

Я здивована його ставленням. Йому не соромно брати гроші від нас, чужих людей, а соромно попросити власних батьків про допомогу. А він приїхав і вже вісім років живе за наші гроші. Інші люди якось заробляють на житло, йдуть на додаткову роботу, виїжджають за кордон, беруть кредити. Донька вважає, що я не повинна втручатися, ні очікувати від сватів допомоги.

Мене це болить, бо свекри живуть для своїх задоволень, їздять до санаторіїв, на відпочинок. А зять не соромиться постійно просити нас про допомогу. Ми любимо нашу доньку і завжди намагаємося їм допомогти, але не можемо постійно фінансувати їхні витрати.

Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Ваша e-mail адреса не оприлюднюватиметься. Обов’язкові поля позначені *

15 − одинадцять =

Також цікаво:

З життя7 години ago

A Life Back in Order – “Lada, I Forbid You From Speaking to Your Sister and Her Family!” My Husband Gave Me an Ultimatum, Enraged at My Bond With My Sister Natasha, While His Own Drinking and Cheating Tore Our Marriage Apart – But When a Stranger Turned Up With His Secret Son, I Finally Found The Strength To Break Free and Discover True Happiness with Kind-Hearted Dr. Herman Lewis

LIFE, SORTED Lydia, Im forbidding you from seeing your sister and her family again! They’ve got their life, weve got...

З життя7 години ago

Bitterness at the Bottom of My Soul “The children’s home has been waiting for you for ages! Get out of our family!” I screamed with a trembling voice. The target of my wild indignation was my cousin, Dima. God, how I loved him as a child! Blond hair, bright blue eyes, cheerful nature — that was Dima. …Relatives often gathered around the festive table. Of all my cousins, I singled out Dima. He could spin tales with his tongue like a lace maker and he drew brilliantly. Sometimes he would churn out five or six sketches an evening. I would stare, entranced by their beauty, quietly gathering his drawings and hiding them in my desk. I carefully treasured my cousin’s artwork. Dima was two years older than me. When he turned 14, his mother died—gone so suddenly, she just didn’t wake up… The question arose—what would happen to Dima? Naturally, they first turned to his father, but finding him was no easy feat. He and Dima’s mother were long divorced, and the new family “couldn’t be disturbed.” The rest of the relatives just shrugged: “We have our own families, our own problems.” Turns out, during the day, family is there, but come nightfall, not a soul to be found. So, with two kids of their own, my parents became Dima’s guardians—after all, Dima’s late mother was my dad’s younger sister. At first, I was happy that Dima would be living with us. But then… On his very first day in our home, Dima’s behavior set me on edge. To comfort her orphaned nephew, my mum asked, “Is there anything you’d like, Dima? Don’t be shy, just say.” And Dima immediately replied, “A model train set.” Now, this wasn’t a cheap toy. I was shocked—your mum just died, the most important person in your life, and all you want is a train set? How could you even think of that? But my parents immediately bought him his dream. Then it was, “Buy me a tape player, jeans, a designer jacket…” This was the eighties, mind you, and not only was this stuff pricey, but it was impossible to get. My parents made sacrifices for the orphan, even at our own expense. My brother and I understood and didn’t complain. …When Dima turned sixteen, he discovered girls. And he wasn’t afraid to show his affection. Worse yet, he started making advances toward me—his own cousin. But as a sporty girl, I skillfully dodged his unwelcome attention. We’d even come to blows. I would cry and cry. I never told my parents—they didn’t need the heartache. Kids don’t talk about such things. After I fended him off, Dima wasted no time turning to my friends, who actually competed for his attention. …But Dima was also a shameless thief. I remember my piggy bank: saving on school lunches to buy presents for my parents, only to find it empty one day! Dima denied everything—didn’t bat an eye, didn’t blush, just outright lied. It broke my heart. How could he steal while living under our roof? He was wrecking our family from within, but Dima really didn’t understand why I was upset. He truly believed everyone owed him. I began to hate him. That’s when I finally screamed at him: “Get out of our family!” I lashed him with my words—said things that can never be taken back… My mum barely managed to calm me. From that day on, Dima ceased to exist for me. I ignored him completely. Later, I learned the other relatives knew what a “character” Dima was—they lived nearby and seen it all. Our family lived across town. Even Dima’s former teachers warned my parents: “You’re making a big mistake. Dima will ruin your other children too.” …At a new school, he met Katy—she loved Dima all her life. She married him straight out of school. They had a daughter, and Katy put up with his lies and cheating without protest. As they say: single life is hardship, married life is double. Dima joined the Army, stationed in Scotland. There, he started another family—he somehow managed it during leave. When his service ended, he stayed in Scotland. He had a son there. Katy, not hesitating, went after him and, by hook or by crook, brought him back home. My parents never received a word of thanks from cousin Dima—not that they expected it. Now, fifty years on, Dmitri is an active member of the local Anglican church. He and Katy have five grandchildren. On the surface, all seems well, but the bitterness of life with Dima remains… No amount of sugar could ever sweeten it.

SORROW AT THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART Youve needed a childrens home for years! Get out of our family! I...

З життя8 години ago

Bittersweet Happiness – “What’s wrong with that young lady? She’s a good girl. Modest, neat, a hardworking student. She loves you,” Helen Edwards chastised her son. “Mum, I’ll handle it…” Denis clearly ended the pointless conversation. Helen left the room. “He’ll handle it… How many girls has he turned away… Nearly forty, and soon no one will do. Nothing’s ever right for him…” she thought with a heavy sigh. “Son, dinner’s ready,” Helen called from the kitchen. Denis responded instantly, tucking into his mother’s homemade stew. “Thank you, Mum. Delicious, as always.” “You should be saying that to your wife, not me,” Helen couldn’t let it go. “Mum…” Denis drank his compote and prepared to leave. “Wait, son. Do you know, I once visited a fortune-teller? She took one look at me and said: ‘Your son will have happiness, but it will be bittersweet.’” “Oh, Mum, don’t believe such things,” Denis grinned. …Through the years, different women—some loved, some not—came and went in Denis’s life. …Inna was smart, cultured, shockingly wise for her age. She often gave sound advice to the nine-years-older Denis. At first he liked this, but then he began to see Inna more as a mentor than anything else. Everything felt colourless. They split up. Polly had an eight-year-old son. Try as he might, Denis couldn’t get through to the boy, though he loved Polly. She was beautiful, but too headstrong. Whenever they quarrelled, he’d try to patch things up with gifts. The arguments felt senseless. Something was always missing—maybe peace and stability. Vera was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Denis almost married her. She was decent, pure, balanced—he felt like he had to “wear kid gloves” just to speak to her. He even moved into her flat. He was ready to start a family. But… He came home unexpectedly from a work trip to find Vera in bed with her old school friend. Classic… After that, Denis moved back in with his mum. Enough romance, he decided. “I’ll be a bachelor—a solid family of one,” he joked to his mum. Helen would shrug and sigh: “Will you ever find your one, son?” But fate had its own plan. Suddenly, unexpectedly. Denis was travelling for work, claimed his usual bottom bunk in the train carriage. A woman entered: “Excuse me, would you mind swapping? Can I have your lower bunk? Please.” “No trouble,” Denis replied. He looked her over—nothing remarkable. Yet his heart skipped. “Maybe she’s the one…” He clambered onto the top bunk and dozed off… “Glad you’re awake! Come, have some tea,” the stranger cooed. Denis climbed down and they started talking. “Larissa,” she introduced herself. “Denis. Nice to meet you, Larissa.” They talked throughout the evening. Denis felt instantly at ease. He didn’t try to impress her; everything just flowed, as if he’d known her forever. They exchanged numbers, just in case… A couple of weeks later, he couldn’t resist calling her. One thing led to another… Dates, kisses, promises… Denis couldn’t imagine his life without Larissa. At forty years old! He’d always let previous girlfriends go easily—but not this one… He wanted to lose himself entirely in her life. Larissa surrounded Denis with love, care, and understanding. Three months in, he offered his heart and hand. “Denis, I’m seven years older than you. I have three children. We live in a council flat,” Larissa admitted. She never lied. “I know, Lara. I’ve met your kids—you’ll all move in with me. It’s sorted. I love every inch of you. You’re my last and only,” said Denis, kissing her tenderly. “All right, Denis, let’s give it a try,” murmured a shy Larissa. “No, not try, Lara. We’ll be together. For good,” Denis squeezed her hand. “Do you hear me? Forever.” When Helen learned his plans, all she could say was: “You’ve really outdone yourself this time… The plainest girl of them all…” …Nine months later, their daughter was born—a child with Down’s syndrome. Denis felt both joy and worry for Larissa. Would she cope? Having a child with special needs is never easy. …Today, Denis and Larissa’s daughter is eight. The whole family adores her. Denis worships Larissa. Bittersweet, but happiness…

BITTERSWEET JOY What is it you dont like about this young lady? Shes a lovely girl. Polite, tidy, bright enough...

З життя8 години ago

The Postage Stamp: How Illya Left Katya for Another Woman, Katya Swore Revenge on All Men, and Daughter Sonia Discovered the Secret of Real Love

A POSTAGE STAMP Toms left Emily, Mum sighs heavily. What do you mean? Im confused. Im baffled myself. He was...

З життя9 години ago

A Lifetime with My One True Wife: Love, Patience, Broken Porcelain, and the Bittersweet Legacy of a Brother’s Secret Regret

MY OWN WIFE How have you managed to stay with the same wife all these years? Whats the secret? My...

З життя9 години ago

A Husband Worth More Than Bitter Resentment: From Loss and Iron-Selling to New Love, Second Chances, and Family Turmoil – My English Tale of Marriage, Heartbreak, and Hope

MY HUSBAND IS WORTH MORE THAN BITTER RESENTMENT Henry, that was the final straw! Were getting a divorce. No need...

З життя10 години ago

A Christmas Eve Miracle: How Paul Forgot His Daughter’s Gift, Adopted a Kitten, and Found the True Spirit of the New Year

A Christmas Eve Miracle Tom, can you please explain how you managed to forget? Sarah looked at me with a...

З життя10 години ago

Broken by Nagging: The Night Stepan Finally Let His Tears Fall – A Village Story of a Silent Man, a Demanding Wife and Mother-in-Law, and the Healing Power of a Kind Word

So, listen, Ive got to tell you about something that happened a while back stuck with me, honestly. This bloke...