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I would also advise against the letter, Kinny. Though, if you do decide to go with it, Mark's edits were quite good.
The thing is, given your intent, combined with the nature of your MIL as you've described her, a letter would be unproductive at best, and detrimental at worst. We all, as human beings, adapt well to change and pain. Part of what allows for this is the hazy nature of our memories. How many mothers (God bless you all!) would again subject themselves to the rigors of pregnancy and the agony of childbirth if the memories didn't have that comforting tendency to soften with time? Some still would, of course. But I reckon a good number might think twice.
I mention this for two reasons. For one, a letter has a permanence to it that typical human memories do not. (Excepting, of course, anyone with eidetic memories.) So years from now, when the fallibility of human memory might have managed to soften this episode to something relatively minor and easily shrugged off, a letter will only serve as an unchanging reminder of EXACTLY how things were. It might serve to fan the flames of future fires, and possibly even permanently damage your relationship with her.
And secondly, as Dopey illustrated with her situation, continued exposure eventually renders even the most eccentric things mundane and matter-of-fact. Eventually your MIL, like Dopey, (I really need to know your actual name! Lol) may come to see the name as inextricably linked to your son, part and parcel of who he is. And once that has happened, the current discomfort could quite possibly fade into yet another hazy memory, softened with time.
There are times when letters are indeed the right response to a situation. I just don't think this is one of them.
But, that said, you are certainly right to stand up for your son. I've always believed that a line has to be drawn, respectfully but clearly, between where a relative's well-meaning advice ends and where unacceptable meddling in your parental decisions begin. So when she crosses that line, by all means let her know that it's NOT okay. Calmly. Respectfully. And verbally.
Sorry that turned out so long-winded. I promise when I started this post my intent was two to three lines, tops! Lol!
The thing is, given your intent, combined with the nature of your MIL as you've described her, a letter would be unproductive at best, and detrimental at worst. We all, as human beings, adapt well to change and pain. Part of what allows for this is the hazy nature of our memories. How many mothers (God bless you all!) would again subject themselves to the rigors of pregnancy and the agony of childbirth if the memories didn't have that comforting tendency to soften with time? Some still would, of course. But I reckon a good number might think twice.
I mention this for two reasons. For one, a letter has a permanence to it that typical human memories do not. (Excepting, of course, anyone with eidetic memories.) So years from now, when the fallibility of human memory might have managed to soften this episode to something relatively minor and easily shrugged off, a letter will only serve as an unchanging reminder of EXACTLY how things were. It might serve to fan the flames of future fires, and possibly even permanently damage your relationship with her.
And secondly, as Dopey illustrated with her situation, continued exposure eventually renders even the most eccentric things mundane and matter-of-fact. Eventually your MIL, like Dopey, (I really need to know your actual name! Lol) may come to see the name as inextricably linked to your son, part and parcel of who he is. And once that has happened, the current discomfort could quite possibly fade into yet another hazy memory, softened with time.
There are times when letters are indeed the right response to a situation. I just don't think this is one of them.
But, that said, you are certainly right to stand up for your son. I've always believed that a line has to be drawn, respectfully but clearly, between where a relative's well-meaning advice ends and where unacceptable meddling in your parental decisions begin. So when she crosses that line, by all means let her know that it's NOT okay. Calmly. Respectfully. And verbally.
Sorry that turned out so long-winded. I promise when I started this post my intent was two to three lines, tops! Lol!