Completely Clueless

When you know you're moving away from your moron in-laws, life seems rosier. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. And you tend to overlook some of the annoying things, reasoning with your brain that soon, very soon, you will be flying over 8,000 miles away from them. Of course, my in-laws seem to really want to help...help me go completely insane before we leave that is.

Today, I came home and discovered this...

Yes, that's part of a green bell pepper on our dish drying rack. Why? Lord knows what ever goes through the head troll's empty head except a constant swirl of sawdust.

As I took the baby back into our bedroom, I noticed something less amusing...amongst all the toys in there, there was an open box of Raid plug-in mosquito repellent discs. Really? Because she has absolutely nothing else to play with. Let's give her a freaking box of poison! I holler to MIL and ask her what the hell is up with this being in the crib and she of course blames her idiot husband. OF COURSE! Not that I doubt he's probably the culprit but if you see your nutsy husband giving the baby something unsafe like that, how about telling him NOT to do that? Or taking it away? No, this couldn't possibly occur to MIL because she has such an alarming lack of common sense it's frightening.

But soon I will have the last laugh. It turns out that maybe they don't know quite when we are moving away. Jeremy confessed that he simply told them we were leaving this summer. So that will be interesting. I told him not to tell them until the day we leave. Ha! Bye Felicia!

No More Oven Lovin'

 Just so you know, this is NOT our oven. But ours is a toaster oven because in China, it's rare to have a normal-sized oven like we're used to in the US. To look at ours, you couldn't tell it's no longer working so I randomly selected this gem from a Google search.

Thank GOD we are moving soon. Because MIL broke our oven. Seriously. How does one do such a thing? I've no idea. And I suspect she'd have played dumb and denied it if she hadn't been using it to roast some ribs (which Jeremy taught her how to make so they're really good). Somehow, it broke while she was cooking them and she had to use that crazy barbecue setting on the microwave to finish them off. How is it she manages to kill, maim or ruin everything in our home? I have used this oven for the last few years with no problems. And now she starts using it to make her rib things and she breaks it. When this woman visits us in the US, I will not allow her to use my kitchen. NO.

In addition to killing appliances in our home, she simply has to do all she can to kill my good mood. So she stands there in the living room when I come home from work while I'm turning on the satellite TV. It's so quiet in our home that I can't stand it. I've never been the type to endure this kind of silence, even in my younger years. I need sound. But you know what sound I DON'T need? Her (or anyone for that matter) making that sucking noise people make when they have something in between their teeth. AUGH! Can we just make it a universal law that if someone does that in your presence that you can punch them in the throat, free and clear? Let's make that happen!

Girl, Interrupted

If you've been reading my blog for a while, then you are fully aware of how annoying my in-laws can be. But if you're new around here, perhaps you think I might be a little too harsh. I'll concede that I'm sometimes a bit of a bitch, but in my defense, I really do try to be nice. I mean, why can't I be nice to someone who comes over to help me with the children and cook us some meals? Shouldn't I be grateful?

Largely, I am. Even if she continues to cook vomitous bowls of things that perhaps once resembled food but now would be considered partially digested (you be the judge...click here). I try to smile, remembering that she just wants to help. And that soon enough, I'll be freed from her cooking catastrophes.

That being said though, there are just some things she does that take me from zero to stabby in .0001 seconds. Try as I might to conceal my rage, it just boils over. I'm hoping that by typing out what really gets my goat about the old goat right here, that maybe it will keep me from completely blowing my top.

Soap.
After we had Raelynn, Jeremy trained MIL on how to use soap. Watching him stand in the doorway to ensure she used soap and scrubbed her hands properly made me so happy. Perhaps it's not entirely her fault. In many places in China, you will be hard-pressed to find soap in the bathrooms. Unless you're at an upscale establishment, don't be surprised when you go to wash your hands and find there is no soap. And only cold water. My husband once explained to me that Chinese people falsely believe that running your hands quickly under cold water is good enough for cleaning them. Um, no, China. No, no, no. Get some soap. So MIL uses soap, which is great, but every single time she reaches for the bar of soap. The one Jeremy uses in the shower (I use a shower gel). We have a big soap pump of anti-bacterial soap right next to the sink. It's by Walch and it's in Chinese even! Yet, she pushes it out of the way and grabs the bar soap. I have no idea why. Remember, we have a typical Asian bathroom where there is no shower stall but still, on our counters, I have moved the soap tray all the way by the shampoo and conditioner in hopes that she gets the hint. Jeremy can't change her but he did put in an anti-bacterial bar of soap which makes me less annoyed but only slightly. JUST USE THE PUMP SOAP!

Cold Water.
The other day, I was quite thirsty. I made some green tea and so I could drink it right away, I added cold water from our filtered water tap. She began squawking loudly about how that cold water was bad and hot water is better. I just gave her my patented bitchface and told her she's crazy. I'm thirsty. I need to drink something now and scalding hot beverages are not refreshing when you are parched. Of course, we already know how she feels about cold things though, don't we? Ugh.

The Refrigerator.
Our refrigerator could definitely be more organized. But when MIL comes over, trying to keep it orderly is absolutely impossible. This morning, I opened the door to get eggs out to make for our breakfast. As I did, I was greeted by a plate of uncooked fish filets, a bag of raw meat in the same bag as raw dough, and all kinds of atrocities peppered in with OUR things. She just shoves her barfy bits up in there and now there's hardly any room for real food. Oh, and for good measure, she left vegetables outside of the refrigerator. My level of stabbiness is through the roof.

Here's her pile of vegetables. Outside of the refrigerator. On top of a box of beer with one beer removed for whatever reason. And three...THREE! Three different containers of oil. When she came over less, our oil lasted so much longer.

My beautiful cream cheese from Australia is shoved to the back to make room for her fish filets. She has made us fried fish for the past 2 nights and I highly suspect she will do the very same thing again tonight. Ugh.

Here is the raw meat coupled with the dough. I just can't even. Looking in our refrigerator makes me so incredibly sad. The only consolation I have is that it must be way better than my in-laws' refrigerator. You do remember their kitchen, right?

Interrupting.
And this one is without a doubt THE worst. Just know that it pisses me off when ANYONE does it. Less so when it's Raelynn just because she is learning how to use "excuse me" but thinks that she should say it any time and not only when it's important. For example, she'll pester Jeremy and me while we're talking, repeatedly saying "excuse me" over and over until we acknowledge her and then she says something like, "I have a red shirt!" Annoying as that is, we're working on it with her. She is, after all, just about to turn 4, so we cut her some slack. But you know who doesn't get any slack on this? MIL.

Seriously, the woman just talks and talks and taaaaaaaaaaaaaalks. She never shuts up. It's the worst when my husband comes home from work. He and I will be talking and she will just come up and start talking in Chinese over what we're discussing. I know he's annoyed by it too but he says nothing. He just ignores her. I shoot her my patented megabitchface (even more severe than regular bitchface) and she nods and retreats. But then, seconds later, she's blabbering away again. I HATE BEING INTERRUPTED! Why can't she tell her son that she needs to talk to him when we're finished with our conversation? Or just wait for us to finish talking before she says something? She does it EVERY SINGLE DAY. No joke. I about flipped the table yesterday when she did it. Between her interruptions and Raelynn's interruptions, I'm amazed Jeremy and I actually get a chance to speak to each other.

She also just blabbers on and on from the kitchen, as if anyone is listening to her. I asked my husband if he was listening to her. No why? Because I think she's been talking to you for a good 5 minutes from the kitchen. Either that or she's completely batshit crazy now, thinking she's Belle from Beauty and the Beast and conversing with the dishware. It honestly could go either way.

Getting Meme-tastic With MIL

Do you know how I don't want to spend my evenings after working all day? Cleaning up after MIL. Yet tonight, I discover another cabbage sitting out, just like this one, in the very same place. And that, my friends, is when I completely lost it. I seriously almost chucked it out our window in a fit of rage. Instead, I did the right thing and put it in the refrigerator, where it should have been in the first place. And thus, another MIL meme was born...

It is going to take all my strength to restrain myself from throwing the next thing I find out the window though. Serenity now!

More MIL Meme Fun

And of course, she did it again. She did not heed the previous warning in meme form.

 So I made this one for her. Think Jeremy will translate it for me? I'm going with no...

People Suck

Sometimes, people just suck. I've been meaning to write about some of the suckier ones I've unfortunately encountered but other stuff's been popping up. After today though, I'm ready to snap, so I need to vent. And believe it or not, MIL and FIL are not on this particular list. They suck, for sure, but this is strictly about encounters with strangers who totally blow. So, join me for a tour of suckage, won't you?

The Gaggle of Suckotrons at the Metro
Around the end of October, we had gone grocery shopping at the Metro. This was while Raelynn was adjusting to being back at school and Jeremy and I were working tirelessly to correct the negative behaviors his mutant parents had encouraged while I was out on maternity leave. We were on line waiting to pay when Jeremy plucked Raelynn from the cart. She wanted to stay in the cart but she was crushing our bread and some other items, and she wasn't happy about being suddenly removed and made to stand. And into a tantrum she went. Jeremy handled it expertly, giving her a stern warning to correct her behavior (she was hitting him and shouting) or else he'd put back the bag of pretzels she'd wanted. The bad behavior continued so I fully supported my husband when he took the pretzels out of our cart and put them back. Raelynn wailed and wailed and still continued this epic tantrum of embarrassing proportions. So, with Seoul strapped to me in the carrier, I snatched Raelynn under one of my arms and dragged her out of the store.

There's a glass-enclosed exit area where, in the colder months, various vendors have other items to sell, like overpriced Belgian chocolates or plants. I carried her there and set her down to wait for Jeremy. The people at the chocolate booth started to come over and try to offer samples. I did not want people giving my kid candy during her tantrum, like people here are known to do. As I'm yelling at Raelynn to stop this insanity now and mentally lamenting that I didn't get the car keys from Jeremy, I look up and see some college-aged girl from some volunteer group booth taking my picture with a Nikon. No fucking joke. And that's when I absolutely lost it. I began screaming at her in a mixture of English and Chinese and as she snapped away, I flipped her off. Then and only then did she turn away in embarrassment. I struggled with Raelynn some more and now about 20 people had congregated to stare. Bunch of suck-ass fucks. The security guard then approached me and I thought he was going to offer Raelynn some candy as she writhed on the floor like a total jerk while I desperately tried to pick her up without dropping Seoul from the carrier. But he was the only one of all those people - now more had gathered - to even bother to help me out. He picked her up off the floor. And he said nothing judgmental at all. Thank you, Kind Metro Security Guard.

Shortly after this, which incidentally, felt like 1,000 years but was more like 10 minutes, Jeremy emerged with our cart of groceries and he, who usually implores me to be patient with the people of China, totally told all of them off. My hero husband. I love you. Thank you for chasing the suckos away.

The Sucky Nosy Lady on Our Street
Maybe a week after the Metro incident, this next mess occurred. Raelynn was also prone to throwing tantrums when I woke her up on the school bus once we arrived at our stop. I tried everything I could think of - punishing her, keeping her awake, offering a reward for waking up without pitching a fit - but every time, it was agony. I felt like the bus driver hated us. I wouldn't have blamed him.

So I drag her kicking and screaming off the bus and ignore the usual stares. Then she tries to dart away into the street. So I grab her, carry her to a safe patch of sidewalk and give her a spanking for doing such a dangerous thing. She cries and says she hates me. I then tell her she's in big trouble and I'm taking a toy from her. Now she changes her tune. She's sorry and crying and just a total mess while I tell her I'm not speaking to her for now. As we're talking and walking, and she's crying away, some nosy lady skitters up to us, like that small yippy dog that always followed Spike the Dog in the old Looney Tunes cartoons. And like all idiot people here, she tries to interfere. In Chinese, she asks Raelynn why she's crying. We ignore her, as we're talking to each other, and keep walking. She persists and keeps bothering us. So finally, I stop and turn to her and in Chinese I tell her to mind her own business, and that my child is crying because she was being bad and now she's in trouble. The woman stares at me. Again, I repeat myself. And she still just stares as if I'm speaking some alien language to her. Finally, I shriek at her to fuck off and get out of my sight and she hightails it out of there. You, Sucky Nosy Lady on Our Street, suck tremendously.

The Sucky I-Can't-Believe-It's-A-Girl Lady in the Restaurant
On Sunday after church, we went to our favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We requested a private room and as we were led there, a woman around MIL's age (perhaps slightly younger) who was seated at a table we passed became overjoyed at the sight of Raelynn and the baby. So she popped into our room and asked if she could take a look at the children. Sure, we say. She makes a huge deal about how gorgeous Raelynn is. And then she turns to the baby and she says it must be a boy. Is it a boy or a girl? It's a boy, right? Um, no. She is also a girl, I say, giving her the eye. And then the woman complains to my husband that I frowned at her about this. He tells her that she's rude for judging us for having 2 daughters, that we are very happy to have 2 daughters and that we didn't want a boy. She leaves and loudly complains about us to her table in the main part of the restaurant. Asshole. You suck for thinking a boy child is better than a girl child.

The Sucky Mom Who Basically Called Me Fat
As you know, I had my 2nd child in mid-July. I work. And when I come home from work, I have maybe an hour or 2 before my baby gets tired and cranky and wants to sleep. That time before sleep is filled with nursing her, bathing her, singing her songs, playing with her, talking to her and other Seoul-and-Me things. How I would love time to get in a real workout but this time will pass all too quickly and I don't want to miss a moment of it. So I'm not yet a stick again, like I'd hoped. I lost about 22 lbs. from breastfeeding and have remained at the same weight no matter how much or how little I have eaten since. Every chance I get, I am moving around during my classes and trying to take advantage of the general activeness of kindergarten children.

This week, we have optional PTA meetings. Of course, for my class, the only parents who want to meet with me are the parents of my very best student. I have nothing new to tell them about their wonderful daughter so I have no idea why they want to have a meeting. It's always this way for the 2nd semester. For 1st semester, meetings are mandatory. But when they are optional, it seems only the good students' parents want to show up. So for my fellow kindergarten coworker, Jon, the parents of his student with the best English skills came in for a meeting today.

The meeting was toward the end of the day so I guess his parents just stuck around until the children were dismissed. Before bringing my students out to their school buses, I popped into our office to grab my coat and change into my outdoor shoes (we have to wear slippers inside the kindergarten) and ran into the mother of this boy. I greet her and as I'm slipping into my coat she asks me, "Oh are you expecting a baby?" I freeze, with one arm mid-sleeve and stare at her. Christina, my Korean teacher, looks appalled by this woman and even though I've said nothing yet, knows me well enough to know how pissed off I am. My pleasant smile dissolves instantly and I cast her an icy glare. "No, I just had one four and a half months ago, but thank you so much for calling me fat," I tell her. She gives a half-assed apology and I give her the mean-girl laugh. If you know me, you know EXACTLY which one. She is just lucky she's a parent of one of our students because if not, I'd have tore her a new one.

The funny thing is, I was feeling pretty good about myself until that moment. And even funnier is that woman was in the room when I was pumping my breast milk during my break time. Yes, I'm pregnant AND pumping milk. Moron. The only wise thing she did was stay out of our office and away from me after insulting me. Talk about the height of rudeness. No, my stomach is not flat yet. I have 2 beautiful daughters to show for it though. Some day, I will get my body completely back in shape but for now, I have to take baby steps to get there. I know that I will never regret spending time with my girls. Sure, it's disappointing to not have bounced back but I'm not 20. I only LOOK 20. Ok, 28. But still. It's a work in progress and I really resent some sucky bitch asking me if I'm pregnant when I'm not even close to looking like a pregnant person. Even a pregnant person in the early stages of pregnancy. Yes you, Thinks-She's-So-Perfect-Mom, suck most of all. 

By the way, some good did come out of the first 2 encounters with sucktastic people...Raelynn has learned her lesson after being punished for her bad behavior. That, coupled with limited time with her grandpa, has left us with a wonderfully well-behaved little girl who no longer throws tantrums in an attempt to get her way. Thank goodness, on so many levels, especially so that I no longer have to endure gaping stares from sucky strangers on the street.

MIL Meme Of The Day

I'm busy prepping for Thanksgiving tomorrow since I have to work all day. That leaves me with precious little time to whip up stuff when I get home. Jeremy will pick up a roast duck on his way home from work and I will throw together some sides. To save time, I've made our favorite chocolate lava cake in the rice cooker again. If you haven't made that, you need to, like, NOW. Seriously. You need it in your life. You'll thank me later. And I went ahead and hard-boiled the eggs that will become my deviled eggs. Mom sent me Stove Top stuffing and I'll make homemade mashed potatoes and creamed spinach. Easy peasy.

But as soon as I needed to wash something, I made a grisly discovery. And thus, a meme was born.

Seriously, can I just ask how hard is it to keep from getting the gloves filled with water? This is almost a daily occurrence with this nimrod. And it's not just a little bit of water...it's like water-balloon-fight full. Idiot.

She's also competing with Patrick's awful in-laws for the grossest MIL award because I found this...

On top of the vacuum (that she NEVER uses) and a garbage bin, she has a giant head of cabbage, a peeled squash, a bag of spinach and under that bag of spinach, a bag of cucumbers that you can't see because of the big yellow bag of spinach. WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO PUT THIS SHIT IN THE REFRIGERATOR?!?

This shit too. A half of a luo bo, an apple (a pretty busted one at that), a tomato and a quarter of a white onion. An interesting assembly indeed. Did she leave it out so I could chuck it at her head? She's lucky she left while I was busy with the baby or I just might have.

Almost Had Me Fooled

This week, I promised myself that I would get around to writing a new blog post over the weekend. I've been extremely busy with work, exercising my ass off and spending time with Raelynn. And this whole time, I was surprised to find that MIL was actually being helpful and useful. I was going to write about that. I really, truly was.

I was going to write about how she has been cleaning up the kitchen before leaving each day. I was going to write how she picks up all of Raelynn's toys. I was going to write about how she made us steamed crabs. I was going to write how she made me some herbal soup remedy when she learned I had a sore throat which made it clear up less than 2 hours after I drank it. I was going to write how she made me a ton of tortillas so I could make tacos, thus earning bonus awesome points. I was going to write how she had been doing absolutely none of the annoying fucking things she has always done while I was at work. Except for this of course:

Behold! Mt. Dishmore!

For a moment, I actually started to believe that MIL and I could peacefully coexist with one another.

Silly me!
I was so fucking wrong.
She seriously almost had me fooled. Until yesterday.

This weekend, Jeremy and I are celebrating 3 years of marriage. The beautiful day when we walked into the US Embassy in Seoul and officially got married. Even though our anniversary is on Sunday, we decided we'd go out to dinner yesterday, which was Friday here, without Raelynn. Her grandparents would already be here watching her while I was at work so it would be easy for them to just stick around, eat dinner and play with her until we came home. On Sunday (tomorrow), we will spend the day with Raelynn since she was there inside of me when we got married.

Yesterday, I rushed home from work. I wanted to have enough time to play with Raelynn and then change into something fabulous and fancy before going to the Shangri-La for a lovely meal. But when I opened the door, the house was dark and silent. No MIL. No FIL. And no Raelynn. It's also a complete and utter pigsty. There are toys everywhere. Food is sitting out in the kitchen. She's even forgotten to switch the gas valve under the stove off, which everyone here does out of safety. I frown and call Jeremy to report this. He's not happy about this either. He clearly told his parents we wanted to see Raelynn before we went to dinner. It was just before 4pm. If they wanted to take her for an outing, they should have done it hours before.

I decide to go ahead and primp and get all dolled up. At 4:45pm, I've finished with make-up, clothing and jewelry and I'm becoming angry as well as worried. Why are they still out with my child? What the hell is wrong with them? The land line rings and I answer it. It's FIL. I can't understand a single thing he's saying except for that he says Raelynn isn't with him! What the fuck?!?

Moments later, my husband arrives home. He calls his father back and finds out that his father has gone off to their hillbilly house out in Laoshan. He tells Jeremy that his wife and Raelynn probably went to the neighborhood park and some nearby yogurt place.

Jeremy is now visibly angry as well. He wants to see his daughter. He shouts a bit and then hangs up. See, when MIL usually takes Raelynn somewhere, FIL is with them. My FIL might not be the brightest guy, but he's got all his wontons. Unlike MIL. He's smart about watching out for bad people. I know no one will get close to Raelynn with him there. Also, FIL carries his cell phone with him at all times. MIL actually has a phone that we bought her and she NEVER fucking uses it. EVER. This is exactly WHY she needs to carry a phone!

We call over to their home but there's no answer. I've gone ahead and downed 2 shots of baijiu to soothe my nerves. It's now after 5pm. Jeremy is worried but feels they are probably just fine. But I point out that it's unlike MIL to not be shoving food down Raelynn's throat if she's around her close to dinner time. We decide to go look for them. Before we hurry out the door, we hear a child squealing. "Raelynn!" Jeremy screams with joy. He rips open our door and we're instantly disappointed. It's not our kid. It's just some ugly, fat Chinese child walking up the stairs. We hurry out the door, hoping that we'll find them at the park. Neither of us wants to go eat now. We just want to know Raelynn is safe and ok.

I wait in the car and look frantically around. I see lots of old, badly dressed ladies out with children. But none of them are that insufferable troll in one of her heinous mismatched outfits and my beautiful daughter. I pray and pray and pray. And thankfully, moments later, my prayers are answered. I hear my sweet Raelynn call out: "Mommy!" Jeremy is holding her now and she's so happy to see us. MIL is following behind, laughing away, as if she has no fucking clue how very serious this all is. Because people are watching us, I resist the urge to beat her to death in the street with my faux crocodile skin clutch.

That stupid fucking brainless knuckle-dragging oaf! I want to ask her what the fuck is wrong with her. She is so lucky Raelynn is safe. I will break her pan-faced troll head open if anything bad ever happens to my daughter in her care. We took them both back to our house. Jeremy and I lectured her about it, he in Chinese, me just rambling away as politely as I could in English. When Raelynn learned we were going to a restaurant without her, she was really upset. Or maybe it was because we were stuck leaving her with that imbecile again. I couldn't tell.

It's a miracle that Raelynn was safe and that we were able to enjoy our anniversary dinner. Plus, when we came home from dinner, MIL had cleaned up most of the mess she'd made (we spent all of today scrubbing the entire house together though). But she of course didn't do diddly shit about getting Raelynn for bed. 9pm and the kid is STILL running around the house. Fantastic. Stupid MIL. Make me all the fucking tortillas you want, bitch, but I am never forgiving or forgetting this shit.

Oops...She Did It Again

I wish this thing would come eat my in-laws and all their vomitous clothing gifts.


Remember when MIL pissed me off by going through our dirty laundry basket just to find one of the ugly garments she'd bought for Raelynn so she could wash it by hand in her foul-smelling piss-stench soap? Yeah, well that old crusty, unwashed, nut-brained troll has gone and done it again. Even after my husband told her that I don't feel comfortable with someone else rooting through our laundry basket. It just further proves my point that even though she tells my husband how much she cares for us (me included) she has zero respect for me. But yet I am supposed to respect HER. Well, any chance she ever had of me actually respecting her just flew out the window and shat upon the grimy streets of Qingdao.

Last week, I came home to discover she'd bought the world's ugliest pants ever manufactured for our precious daughter, hand washed them and hung them to dry on the arm of my computer chair. Because she's too lazy or stupid to get the rack for wet clothes. Or maybe she was taunting me. Now that I think about it, perhaps it was a taunt. I say this because when I came home today, she'd snagged them off the drying rack. I normally don't leave dry clothes on there for days on end, but we had Raelynn's birthday party on Saturday and then Sunday, I had a first-class migraine. So everything waited until today, Monday. I was actually going to put them in the closet. Under ALL the pants. She'd have found them with little effort. I was trying to be nice. But I am never being nice to that vile buzzard-brained bovine ever again. EVER.

It wasn't that she took the pants off the rack, likely stashing them in her haggish bag to sneak onto Raelynn when I go to work. Don't be fooled - that pisses me off but nothing made me more enraged to toss the laundry into the washer and discover the red, grandma-esque sweater she'd bought for Raelynn wasn't there. I'd told her, as did her own son, that I would wash it when I did the laundry. It was in our laundry basket. Now, I didn't like the sweater too much but it wasn't completely unfortunate looking. For her, it was an improvement. I'd decided I'd pick my battles and I'd be kind about this sweater. But that wasn't good enough for her. Again, she violated my privacy - after being told that it was upsetting and disrespectful to me - just so she could be a manipulative fuck like she always is.

You asked for it, MIL. All bets are off. If you think I wasn't nice to you before, you are in for a new wave of total bitchiness from me. I will not have you come into my house and invade my privacy. I wish I could put a cobra in there or that the laundry monster would come and gobble her up. What a total asshat she is.

Reason #5,967 Why My MIL Sucks

If any of you ever feel compelled to say, "Hey Jenn, take it easy on your MIL," I want you to take that and shove it right up your ass. I say this because after a long day of dealing with horribly-behaved kindergarteners who could all easily be poster-children for ADHD, when I got home today, this is what I discovered:

 Raelynn drew all over our bedroom door with markers.

And on this shelfy-poo thingie too.

Now, I'm not saying Raelynn isn't sneaky enough to escape and do this. Believe me, she is. But someone had to have given her the markers (they are kept on the highest shelf in our room). And that someone neglected to watch her while she was coloring for quite a period of time for Raelynn to doodle on these things. What I am saying is that even if you have the best of intentions and for some legit reason, you must turn your back for a few moments and something like this occurs, FUCKING CLEAN IT UP! Seriously! How fucking hard is it for MIL to clean this shit up? These are washable markers (thank GOD!) so all it takes is some cleaning products and a rag. Or even a wet wipe will do the trick most of the time. It took me less than 2 minutes to clean up the scribbles. But that old decrepit cow couldn't be bothered.

And this, my friends, is just one of many reasons why trying to be nice to her is such a challenge. She just suckity suck suck sucks.

The Face Of Death

Birds always look pissed off. Just like this eagle here. Look at this fantastic creature. It has truly mastered the Face of Death. This look right here says, "Go ahead and try it. I'll peck your fucking eyes out, bitch." 

I want you all to know that I have seriously and sincerely been trying VERY hard to be nice to MIL. On paper (or even on computer screen for that matter), it seems simple enough. She's a nice person. And who wouldn't like someone that makes you delicious dumplings and wontons whenever you request them? Or watches your child for free? I must sound like a raging lunatic when you consider these things.

But then, there are the things she does that just pile up, like one smelly shit-caked diaper after another until it overflows with an overwhelming pungency, permeating every molecule until everything is essentially shit. Things like unplugging the refrigerator, breaking the Baby Bjorn chair (which had a fucking metal frame!), blaming the baby for things, that blasted knife with the sharp end pointed up, and let's not forget how that cow tried to intrude on my private time with Raelynn during my summer vacation because she thought I couldn't possibly manage to make food for my own daughter. Yeah, her dumplings and wontons aren't THAT good that I should have to endure this kind of shit.

As this new semester has gone on, I have really, truly tried to be polite when I see her homeliness enter our home before I head off to work. When I come home, I try to smile big and greet her too. But as all this annoyance builds up again, I am ready to burst from suppressing my rage. Each thing individually seems like no big deal. But add it up and here's the running total so far from just this week: left a container of food uncovered sitting in the steamer on the stove for God knows how long (and incidentally, it was one of the worst dishes she cooks and I have no idea why she ever makes it when she actually does make other good dishes); gave Raelynn something she shouldn't play with so that when I confiscated it, she had a meltdown; lets the baby destroy anything and everything; somehow hit the kitchen faucet so it's loose and now water leaks out from somewhere onto the fucking floor and my husband insists NOTHING is wrong with it (I should really write about this issue separately, quite honestly); wore the same ugly socks 2 days in a row; wore the same clothes 3 days in a row; left garbage in the stroller; talks nonfuckingstop from the moment she arrives and just won't shut the fuck up. That last one is really severe too. She just gabbles on and on and on and on, as if she's trying to make Raelynn sound just as stupid as she is. Don't get me wrong. I want Raelynn to speak Chinese. BUT I want her to speak it well and be educated, like her father. Not like this idiotic troll.

Today in particular, she did something that set me off completely. All the grievances listed above swirled about my head and I'd just had enough. As I opened the door, Raelynn ran up to greet me as is her custom. And she usually follows me about as I put down my things so I can then wash my hands and pick her up. But that old hag wasn't satisfied with having my angel to her troll-self all day for she picked her up, talking loudly over me while I was speaking to my daughter. That's when I gave MIL the Face of Death. A stare so calm and angry, it induces fear in whoever sees it. If my kindergarteners have been especially naughty, they too will shiver in terror when I look at them in this way. I didn't yell, but I did sound annoyed as I complained aloud to myself how I couldn't believe the balls this witch had for not only keeping my daughter from running up to me but also for blabbering on and on and on while I was talking to her. The Face of Death worked because she promptly put Raelynn down, closed her flapping gums and hit the road.

Jeremy, who had been outside on a business call, came back in a short while later. I guess MIL ran up to him and told him about the evil stare I served her when I came home because the first thing he asked me was if I made a face at his mother. I had to try not to laugh. She's tattle-telling on ME? Seriously? Oh that's rich. My husband admonishes me about being polite and I remind him that it's quite rude for her to pick up my daughter when it is my time with her and even more rude to keep talking OVER me when I am talking to my daughter. Well yes, but don't make faces at her. Oh I know...because she's old and frail and my having made a face at her will make her heart stop. Give me a fucking break. She is 10 years younger than my dad. And 10 years older than my friend Andrea who you would NEVER guess is 50.

I hope MIL always remembers that look I gave her. I hope it is burned into that tiny pea-brain of hers so that she never forgets that this is MY house and my daughter and my little family and I am in charge here. If she wants a place in my heart, she needs to fucking step off a bit and quit intruding. And for God's sake, stop tattling like one of my students. Even those kids know better.

The Breakfast Crasher

Good ol' Garfield. I can always count on him to be my company in the hatred of mornings.

Ever since the school decided that for this semester, even kindergarten teachers had to start the day at 7:30am, Jeremy has taken it upon himself to ensure I have a good breakfast each morning. With his new job, he has to be at work at 8:30am, so he has plenty of time to get ready himself. I have to be out the door at 7am so I hugely appreciate having a husband who makes me healthy and delicious breakfasts every morning. We sit together and enjoy some time as a family before we have to hustle out to our jobs. It's a great way to start the day. It's always so nice and peaceful.

That is unless a certain troll-faced woman comes over earlier than she is supposed to and crashes our breakfast. During the last 2 weeks, Jeremy has had to take the remaining parts of his driving test and on 2 separate days, he had to leave before me. For those days specifically, he'd asked his mother to be here earlier so that I could leave for work on time.

If you know me well, then you know how much I despise mornings. Truly I do. My mom is a total morning person, up at dawn and smiling away. Not me. Though after having Raelynn, I learned to function somewhat during them. For me, mornings need to be kept simple. And since I'm rushing off to work during 5 of them a week, I just want to see the faces of the two people I love. What I DON'T want to see is MIL in her mismatched wardrobe of dirty rags with her lopsided man-style haircut, ever-growing chin hairs and rat-like false teeth barging through the door. But on those mornings where my husband had to leave first, I had no choice but to endure her voice of 1,000 chickens being slaughtered so early in the morning.

Jeremy had told her that she only needed to come earlier on those 2 days. After his first extra early day, she showed up while I was still eating breakfast. Jeremy and I were talking and Raelynn was sitting on his lap, babbling away as if to be contributing to the conversation. I nearly hit the roof. It's bad enough having to see her at any time of day. But to see her on a morning when my coffee has yet to kick in and when there is no fucking reason for her to be in my home at that time pisses me right off. How dare she! She gets to spend all this time with my daughter who will, God-willing, never ever be as dense as her grandmother. She is such a manipulative cow. Seriously. I work my fucking ass off and this bitch is trying to steal one of the few precious moments we have together as a family. I hope and pray we can find someone who isn't a complete asshat to watch the baby sometime. I'm not saying Raelynn shouldn't know her grandma (though for her sake and my husband's, I sure wish I could trade her in) but I just wish she didn't have to spend so much time with that witless wonder.

After MIL did it again today, I openly let it be known that I did not want her trolling around my house right then. I scowl at her and I clank my silverware loudly. Then she goes to pick up Raelynn and that's when I really thought about inquiring to see if I could find a rocket bound for the center of the sun that I could buy her a ticket to ride on.

Jeremy promises it won't happen again as he said he's spoken to her once more about this problem. It's funny. I never thought I could ever hate anything more than mornings. Until she came along. Here's hoping I can enjoy my eggs and baby snuggles tomorrow morning without having them ruined with the sight of that yeti.