Natasha, don’t worry,” Sergei said at dinner, cautiously looking at his wife, “but I’ll soon be moving my mother in with us.” Natasha didn’t immediately understand what he said. She even thought she misheard.
“What? What? The water’s loud, I can’t hear,” she turned around, closing the tap and putting away the washed dishes. “Why aren’t you eating? Is it not tasty?” Sergei listlessly poked at his food with a fork. He knew a scandal was coming. Natalya had warned before their wedding that she would never, under any circumstances, live with her mother-in-law. She had heard too many stories from friends and relatives.
“I’ll bring my mother here,” he repeated. “Not forever, just temporarily. It’s hard for her to live alone in another city now. We’ll sell her apartment there, buy something for her here.” Natasha wiped her hands on a towel, sat down at the table in front of her husband, and looked at him intently to see if he was joking.
“No,” she said. “Don’t even dream about it. She has three of you. Let Galina take her, she’s her daughter after all. Or Mikhail, they have a big house.”
“They can’t, everyone has their reasons.”
“We have our reasons too.” She pushed out her “pregnant” belly. “Soon there will be no time to sleep. And with Denis, there’s enough care needed, he’s still a baby. And now you want to throw your mother into the mix? Don’t even ask. There can be no discussion about this!”
“She would help with the babysitting,” began Sergei. “She’s not that old yet.”
But Natasha almost jumped out of her chair:
“Thanks! I still remember how my mom ‘helped’ me with Denis when he was born. She drove me crazy. Either I’m feeding him wrong, or I’m not bathing him right… No, I don’t need any more helpers! I have a difficult character! There, tell her that.”
“Some even persuade grandmothers to quit their jobs and help with the children. And you are refusing on your own.”
“No! No and no! The conversation is over! I will not tolerate any more mothers, neither yours nor mine. I don’t want to be constantly lectured like a child and be read lectures. I don’t need the hassle.”
But the next day, Sergei returned to this conversation:
“Mom called, we need to go earlier, help pack things. Don’t worry too much. It’s not for long. We’ll buy her an apartment and she’ll move away from us.”
“So, you’ve decided to buy her an apartment? Nice! But you don’t want to buy a bed for Denis? Where will he sleep when the baby is born? He’s almost three years old, he barely fits in the small bed. You’re not worried about that?”
“We’ll buy a bed. Don’t worry. And she will buy the apartment herself, we’ll just help.”
Despite Natalya’s resistance and outrage, when Sergei brought her home from the maternity hospital with the newborn daughter, they were already met by Snejana Kirillovna.
“Hello, Natashenka! Congratulations on your daughter! Well done! You have a son and now a daughter, a full set! Well done, Seryozhenka, you tried hard!” she clapped her son on the shoulder. “Come in, Natashenka, we’ve prepared everything for you. A crib, bottles, pacifiers…”
“You, Snejana Kirillovna, are some kind of wrong grandmother. All grandmothers know that a baby needs breast milk, not bottles. I’ll breastfeed myself.” Natalya was terribly displeased to see her mother-in-law in her apartment.
“That’s okay, just in case,” tried to calm her Snejana Kirillovna.
“What’s this rearrangement?” asked Natasha, looking around.
“Well, the baby will sleep with you for now,” said Snejana Kirillovna, “and I’ll be in the nursery, with Denis, if I must. Not in the hallway. It’s useful to rearrange sometimes. When we started moving the furniture, we scooped out so much dust and trash… You should try to keep things cleaner, Natashenka, it’s a bit dirty here, not nice.”
Natasha had neither the strength to argue nor to complain. What she feared had happened — a mother-in-law who meddled and lectured appeared in her life.
She walked into the bedroom, where Sergei had already put the baby in the crib.
“Well, thank you!” she snorted at her husband. “Met his wife from the maternity hospital. With fireworks!”
“Nothing terrible happened. She’ll look after Denis. She’s already made us lunch. What’s bad about that?”
“What will you name the girl?” Snejana Kirillovna peeked into the room.
“Annyushka,” said Natasha.
“Oh, what a name! At least name her Eva, or Jeanne.”
“She’s already Anna. It’s been decided long ago.”
“You’re so old-fashioned,” sighed Snejana Kirillovna.
“Of course, Anna is an old-fashioned name, nowhere near as novel as Eva,” Natasha smirked.
“And the wallpaper here needs changing,” said Snejana Kirillovna, glancing around the bedroom, “something lighter, cheerier.”
“Of course, maybe with flowers,” Natasha snickered again.
“Even with flowers,” retorted Snejana Kirillovna, “anything’s better than these. And different wallpaper needed in the nursery too.”
“Maybe we can choose our own wallpaper for ourselves?” Natasha got angry.
“Don’t argue,” Sergey calmed them down. “Let’s go have lunch while the baby sleeps.”
The lunch was a milky rice soup and mashed potatoes with a cutlet. Snejana Kirillovna had stood at the stove half the day, carefully preparing for her daughter-in-law’s arrival. She carefully planned the menu, beneficial for a nursing mother. And now she proudly filled the plates.
“What is this?” Natasha grimaced. “Hospital soup again? I want normal home-cooked food.”
“This is the most beneficial menu for nursing,” declared Snejana Kirillovna, placing a plate of milky soup in front of her. “If you eat whatever, the baby’s belly will hurt, she won’t let you sleep at night. Do you want that?”
Natalya sighed and reluctantly began to eat, deciding that from the next day, she would manage her own kitchen.
But at night the girl slept poorly, cried loudly and only calmed down when rocked in arms. Natalya carried her back and forth across the room, trying to let her husband, who went to work in the morning, sleep. She no longer had the strength for the kitchen. She resigned herself and, without tasting it, swallowed whatever Snejana Kirillovna cooked.
And the mother-in-law was already busily running the household. Washing, laundering, cleaning, rearranging the furniture her way. And she never missed a chance to reproach Natasha for being a bad housekeeper.
“When will all this end?” Natalya grumbled to her husband, “how’s the apartment purchase going? Will she move away from us soon?”
“I think soon. The realtor is working. But what would you do without her? Look how much she helps!”
“I don’t want any help. I want there to be no strangers in the house. I can manage myself.”
However, the daughter continued to be fussy. Natalya couldn’t sleep at night, and during the day, she could rarely sleep. Little Denis also demanded attention.
“What is it? Why is Annechka so restless? Maybe she’s not getting enough milk?” asked Snejana Kirillovna to the district nurse, who came to visit the newborn.
“No, I have enough milk,” answered Natasha.
“The belly is bloating,” the nurse replied, “I’ll prescribe a mixture, and everything will normalize. The girl is quite healthy.”
But the mixture didn’t help. Annechka continued to be fussy day and night.
“Let me walk with her,” suggested Snejana Kirillovna, “I’ll carry her in my arms, and you can get some sleep.”
“Well, just a little,” agreed the tired Natasha, “I’m falling off my feet.”
The mother-in-law took the girl. And Natalya, for the first time in recent weeks, finally slept peacefully at night. She woke up late in the morning from the unusual silence. She went into her mother-in-law’s room and saw Annechka sweetly sleeping on Snejana Kirillovna’s pillow.
“What have you done to her? Why is she sleeping?” Natasha suspiciously looked at her mother-in-law.
“I fed her,” replied Snejana Kirillovna. “She sleeps because she’s full. Apparently, your milk isn’t enough for her. The belly’s empty. She pounced on the formula with such greed. Good thing we stocked up.”
From that day, Natasha began to supplement her daughter with formulas. The girl became calmer, life somewhat normalized, and Sergei became more active in looking for an apartment for his mother.
Natasha was now able to manage household chores. And Snejana Kirillovna, becoming freer, went to museums, theaters, libraries, and made many new acquaintances. Now it was almost impossible to keep her at home. She was always rushing somewhere. Someone was always waiting for her somewhere. Energy was bursting from her.
“Snejana Kirillovna, could you stay with the children for a bit, I need to go to a doctor’s appointment,” Natasha asked her.
“Oh, darling, please, not for long,” the mother-in-law replied, looking at her watch, “or I’ll be late for the master class.”
“What master class?” Natasha was surprised.
“About making sushi. And then — drawing, to the library.”
“Is that so important? Can’t you skip it?”
“What, dear! There will be Yelizar Semyonovich! We agreed in advance.”
“Some Yelizar Semyonovich is more important than family?”
“You are completely uneducated and don’t know how to behave decently,” Snejana Kirillovna pursed her lips. “Go about your business, but quickly and don’t forget to say thank you later!”
The mother-in-law lived for more than half a year in her son’s family. And not a day went by without clashes between her and the daughter-in-law. Verbal duels and mutual claims thoroughly tired both of them.
But finally, Sergei found a suitable apartment, Snejana Kirillovna moved out, and Natasha breathed freely.
“I thought this would never end,” she said, “I’m just afraid that she will still come and tell us how to live.”
However, Snejana Kirillovna was now not up to them. Somehow, she became very friendly with Yelizar Semyonovich, they decided to live together and even talked about getting married.
“Just what we needed!” Natalya exclaimed. “What are you thinking, Snejana Kirillovna! How old are you? And a bride?”
“Darling, I’m just fifty… something. I’m still a young and attractive lady, not like you. You’ve let yourself go!” said Snejana Kirillovna, looking down on her daughter-in-law. “I would have agreed to marry Yelizar Semyonovich a long time ago, but his mother stops me. I don’t want such a nasty mother-in-law as a bonus.”
“What? What?” laughed Natasha. “You don’t like your mother-in-law?”
“You should see this sourpuss! She came to my apartment to see where her son was planning to move. She can barely move her legs. And she inspected everything, looked into every corner, criticized everything, turned up her nose… Imagine having such a one! And you’re still not satisfied with me. I’m simply an angel compared to her!”
Snejana Kirillovna and Yelizar Semyonovich did get married. And one fine day, there was a knock at Natalya and Sergey’s apartment.
“Hello, children, we’ve come to get acquainted,” said Snejana Kirillovna, entering the apartment with Yelizar Semyonovich and his elderly mother.
“Seryozha,” whispered Natasha, “pinch me. I’m seeing double. I think I now have a mother-in-law squared!”