It’s pretty clear that I lucked out in the parents-in-law area. My in-laws are smart, generally open-minded people who are world travelers that would put most of us to shame. They’ve welcomed me into their lives with open arms and without any real hesitation. But I knew that at some point, we’d disagree on something. I guess that some point has come now.

None of these things are big things. They are quite small in the grand scheme of problems we could have. My future mum-in-law has indicated that while she enjoyed the sample wedding album that we shared with her from our chosen wedding photographer, she didn’t find them particularly unique and was expecting something different. I get that not everyone understands photography technique and editing the way I might since I scrutinize photos like crazy and took a while to make my photographer decision, but wedding photos are wedding photos. No matter how personalized and “you” that you make your wedding, you will definitely have photos that look like other people’s wedding photos: the bride walking down the aisle, the bride and groom standing together and posing, family shots, cake cutting, dancing, etc. You can’t really make these things that different. It’s just the way it is. The editing will make the difference in the end in terms of color.

She’s also indicated that she is against the idea of us having a nanny. “You have to raise your own kids!” she exclaimed at Chris when Chris mentioned that we would eventually have a nanny. I didn’t get involved in the conversation, but I was definitely not that comfortable listening to it. The thing about being in a dual-income family is that if both partners are working full-time, you can’t really get by having children and not have some external help, whether it’s from family, an extremely good friend, or professional help through a daycare or a nanny. It’s just not feasible. I have no desire to be a stay-at-home mother and wife. Chris’s parents had the luxury of having Chris’s dad’s parents take care of the kids while his own parents worked full time. My parents had the luxury of having my grandmother live with us while all of us were growing up. They had help — it was just unpaid and done by family. If we’re not living in San Francisco or Melbourne when we raise our children, we’re not going to have familial help, either, so the only option is hired help. People seem to forget the little luxuries they’ve had when they judge other people’s choices, which is a little frustrating.

Usually, when you hear of bridesmaid drama, it tends to involve the bride being too high maintenance and demanding, also known as a “bridezilla,” and the bridesmaids not being a huge fan of this and expressing frustration. In this version of bridesmaid drama, it’s the bridesmaids being passive aggressive with each other to the point where absolutely nothing is getting done.

My friend just found a great place where we were supposed to stay for our weekend away in September, and we all loved it. Supposedly, another bridesmaid never confirmed that she was in agreement with the place and the price, so of course, given that it’s Labor Day weekend, the place got booked on AirBnB by someone else. It’s gone now. And I was really frustrated. How difficult could it possibly be to respond in a timely manner to an email about a time-sensitive booking?

One bridesmaid is too passive aggressive and doesn’t stand up for herself enough and getting stuff done. The other is lackadaisical and doesn’t see a reason for setting timelines and deadlines. In other words, no one is being proactive to get anything done.

I’ve explicitly told them all that I want to hear no more complaining about each other and nothing about planning until everything is finalized, and I can finally hear some good news for once. I don’t think I should have to be involved in all this when this is their responsibility.

Tonight, we went to see a show in the West Village called “Nice Girl,” about a woman who ends up dropping out of Radcliffe College after her dad falls ill and dies, and she lives with her mother for the next 16 years and helps take care of her. She takes an assistant-type job at an accounting firm, and it’s clear she thought she had more potential than to be someone’s assistant at the age of 38.

The mom is emotionally manipulative. She tries to get her daughter to do things by guilt-tripping her here and there, and she loves to act helpless, as though she would not be able to survive without her daughter’s daily help. She gets angry at the idea that her daughter would even think of moving out and being on her own. Wow, this seemed so familiar to me. It’s like my own mother in a lot of ways. She always says she’d never be able to live alone, ever.

It made me remember the one time when Ed had a tiny chance of moving out. He found a small room for rent in an in-law of someone’s house at an affordable price, and he considered moving. It would have given him freedom not just from the overbearing eyes of our parents, but also freedom from constant scrutiny and intense and unwarranted criticism, which chipped away at him every single day. Unfortunately, when my mom brought it up with me one day on the phone, she was angry about it. She said it was a stupid idea, that he’d never survive living on his own, and that his job wasn’t good enough for him to move out. She also said that if he did decide to move, he wouldn’t be allowed to take anything from this house with him except the bed he slept in. That infuriated me, and I told her it was wrong. My words meant nothing to her, though, and of course, she just yelled back.

Well, now the house has all these nice things that Ed was so generous and loving to buy — endless bath towels, bedsheets, pillows, comforters, a fancy knife set that is barely used, dishes, plates, bowls, bathroom supplies, even a freaking flat screen TV. That bed is still there, too. But there is no Ed. That house will never see Ed ever again.