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!

How Hard Is It?

Image comes from here, a Chinese Roommates tumblr which is cracking me right up though sadly doesn't seem to have had a new post in a while.
 
The same stupid thing happened in our house in the same week. The first time this idiotic incidence occurred, it severely irked me. But twice in one freaking week? I'm mega-irked now.

We buy imported milk here. Always have. Even Jeremy doesn't want to drink the Chinese milk since you never can be sure what's up with it. Plus, imported just tastes better. Of the imports, we purchase what is on sale. Sometimes it's from Australia. Other times, it's from Germany. And sometimes, like this time, it's from Italy. The milk is shelf-stable until opened, at which point, it must be refrigerated. We usually keep unopened ones in the fridge too so that they are nice and cold when needed.

The first time this happened this week, we left the milk on the table for Jeremy, as he usually requests us to. He uses it shortly after we leave since he doesn't have to go to work until after we've gone. Normally, Jeremy is good about putting the milk back. Annoying as it is, I can forgive one slip of the brain in forgetting to return the milk to the fridge. What reignites the rage inside of me though is that MIL is here ALL day with the baby. And she leaves it out on the table. Because. Because she's a fucking halfwit. I mean, really!

But still, I tried to forgive her too. I sent Jeremy a stern message via WeChat and he promised he'd be more careful. And as for MIL? I snarled at her in Chinese to put milk in the refrigerator. I figured they'd both pay more attention after that.

You'd think so, wouldn't you?

But of course, men are idiots who do stupid things so it is no surprise my husband found himself in a rush and forgot to put the milk away when he was done with it. And MIL is a total moron, so should I be surprised that when I came home today, our lovely Italian milk was STILL sitting on the table? No, I shouldn't be. Just like she shouldn't be surprised when I get angry at her lack of attention to detail. Or anything, really.

At least I can find solace in the fact that we're leaving in 2 months and after that, it will be a long while before MIL can ruin our dairy products. WOOHOO!

How Many Times?

Every day when I get home, I am filled with pure joy when I see Seoul. She warms up my heart when I come in from the cold. Before I can hold her though, I must put down my things and wash my hands.

I rushed to put my pumped milk away and as I was washing my hands, I heard Raelynn angrily screaming in her room. Raelynn's pretty uppity and is usually very grouchy when you first take her off the bus and get her home since you're waking her from a good nap. But this was a different angry grumbling from her.

When I went to investigate, I saw just why she was so upset and it made me furious. Right there on a shelf that is eye level with her in her own bedroom, there was the peeled remains of a kiwi AND A FREAKING KNIFE! Dumberella (that would be MIL) peeled a kiwi in Raelynn's room and left the skin and the knife in an easily accessible place to Raelynn. I yell for MIL to get in there. When she sees it, she's all, Oh hahaha! Oops! (but in Chinese of course). Oops? OOPS?!? Are you kidding me, lady? You make a mess in Raelynn's room which is typical of you AND you leave something dangerous lying about and all you can say to me is the equivalent of oops?!? You make me feel real good about leaving my baby with you each day. And why the hell were you peeling and eating a kiwi in Raelynn's room? Can't you do that in the kitchen?!? Geez!

I scold MIL and then whisk Seoul off to our bedroom where I can feed her privately. I always love this feeding time with her because it's extra special since I haven't seen her all day. As I'm preparing to give her milk boobie goodness, I hear Raelynn cry. "Mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" She wails. "Mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! She bwoke my gween toyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" I ask her what all the fuss is about and it turns out that this plastic watermelon half from her play food set of items has been broken. When I inquire as to how, she explains that her grandma told her that Seoul broke it. Seoul shouldn't be playing with Raelynn's toys. She is a baby and has baby toys. The play food items are not for a child Seoul's age and I have told this to BOTH of my idiots-in-law numerous times IN CHINESE mind you but to no avail.

I plan to tell Jeremy but I'm sure he'll just tell me that they're old or to forgive them or some lame excuse because that's almost always what I am told when this kind of thing happens. But who knows...the knife thing is very dangerous and I hope he seriously says something to his parents about being more careful. The longer I spend in this country the more I question whether it is them that is insane...or is it me? If it's me, it's only because they drove me there.

MIL The Murderer!

As you know in the ongoing saga that is my life, MIL has been around this week, helping me out with the kids while I'm recovering from bronchitis. The kids were sick too but now everyone is better. And I'm trying to appreciate the convenience of having someone around to assist me. It IS nice not to have to cook anything right now and as the dust settles from the insanity that was the hell of having 2 sick kids at once, it's nice that I can get some work done on this blog because the small one has started teething and Lord knows if I will be able to ever use my computer again after she goes to sleep at night. Help.

Anyway, rewind a few days to when I was really sick as a dog to the point I could barely get out of bed. Both my in-laws were here. FIL was busy keeping the children entertained and MIL was cooking. I went to get some more water and that's when I noticed there was smoke.

I gesture wildly at her. It's coming from the microwave. What in the world is she making in there? She smiles and waves, like this is a common thing for microwaves to do, burst into flames. So I just close the door to the kitchen. And tell FIL. And then I take Seoul, who had a bad cough, into our bedroom, shut the door and open the windows. Because we do NOT need to be breathing in smoke. Ugh!

So what in the world was MIL doing to the microwave? Well, she broke it. Of course she did. Are you surprised? I'm just surprised it didn't happen sooner. But I'm not angry. How can I be? That microwave was old. You can see it in this photo...

They went out and bought us a new one, so I couldn't be mad if I tried, especially after hearing just how MIL killed that old microwave.

See, Chinese people love meat on a stick. She was trying to make chicken on a stick for us for lunch. Before you think this is bizarre, there is a barbecue function on many microwaves here. So MIL was using the barbecue function on the old microwave. I don't know if she ever used it before (we certainly hadn't) but the microwave was like HELL NO and just began smoking.

The new one is much more fashionable though it looks a bit like an oven, no?

I wonder how long before one of them gets this thing smoking...stay tuned!

Oh Come On!!!

While Seoul was napping, I managed to get a few moments in of cleaning before Raelynn came back from the park with her grandparents. I just kind of went around the house sporadically. It wasn't my intention...it's just that I seriously became distracted. I threw in a load of laundry and then attempted to get the dusting done. And then I would see something else and stop doing what I was doing until I effectively did little bits around our whole apartment.

One of those little things was to organize a shelf in Raelynn's room that had all her hair stuff on it. See, every morning when MIL picks her up, she puts Raelynn's hair into a ponytail. And then she puts 2 barrettes in to keep her hair from coming loose and getting into her face. But she picks the same barrettes EVERY day. Whether they match or not. Even though there are about 30 different barrettes she could choose. So I thought I'd tidy up the area and put all big bows and clips in one container; hair ties in another container; and barrettes in yet another container.

So as I was doing that, I could now see the rest of the shelf. Because as you know, MIL has to knock everything over and spill it and of course not clean it up. Once I put all the items in containers, I then discovered this:

I knew MIL did it as soon as I saw it. I brought it to Jeremy though and asked him if he did it. Because if I outright blame her, he'll get defensive. No, he tells me, it wasn't him. He asked me if I thought Raelynn did it. While I'll concede that's a possibility as she's broken plenty herself, Raelynn NEVER puts a broken item back where it belongs. She leaves it out in the middle of everything. Or shoves it behind the couch. She has never once put a broken thing back in its' place. So I tell him this and I tell him I think his mom did it because she's the one who does Raelynn's hair in the mornings and instead of using the brush on her hair, MIL and her pea-brain always use the comb. Because of course!

Now, I know what you're thinking. But Jenn! It's just a fucking cheap-ass comb. Get over it! Oh sweethearts, please. I don't care about the comb. It's the principle of the whole thing. She breaks the comb and then puts it back on the shelf. Who could use this thing now? THROW IT OUT! Tell us you broke the comb. We have other combs. But no. She just puts it back on the shelf like nothing's the matter. She never says sorry when she breaks things either. Remember when she broke my 2 favorite mugs?!? And all the other shit she's broken. Like the Baby Bjorn chair! Not one sorry out of her. It's not in their culture which makes me angrier every time I hear that. You know why? Because I try very hard to incorporate some of the Chinese culture in my life. I'm not always successful but I do try because I want to make my husband happy and I want my daughters to embrace the Chinese part of their heritage as much as their American part.Why is it so hard for her to say "sorry" then? She could say it in Chinese and I'd understand just fine.

And honestly, if this comb was the only thing she had ever broken in our home, I wouldn't even give a shit. It's the culmination of broken things that have been put back broken over these last few years that just make me want to scream like a banshee before punching her in the throat as I tell her "OH COME ON!!!!! JUST FUCKING SAY YOU'RE SORRY! GAH!!!!" But my husband wouldn't be keen on that so all I can do is give her a dirty look and pray even harder that we can move home very soon. Oh and of course, use a different comb.

Rant #138

You know that I'm supremely pissed when I can't even pull a clever title for a post out of my ass. And of course, you can probably guess who sent me off into a rage. MIL!

There's been a few things bubbling up lately. Such as having to remind her AGAIN to give Raelynn the breast milk I leave for her. WHY IS THAT SO FUCKING HARD TO REMEMBER?!? I want so badly to tape a note for her onto the refrigerator that would be the Chinese equivalent of this: "Dear insipid, vomitous cow, give my daughter her milk or I will take your goat face and shove it up your hairy baboon ass." I better use Google translator for that because I doubt Jeremy will assist me in compiling that note.

Then there was the incident where she threw out my coffee measuring spoon! It was inside the almost-empty bag of ground coffee I'd had left. She leaves garbage everywhere but oddly decided THIS she would toss into the garbage. Sigh.

Also, MIL and FIL kept bringing these jugs that at one time, had contained peanut oil, which they had rinsed out and were now using to lug us drinking water. I should add that we would have real jugs of drinking water delivered here. Until earlier this week when my husband had a filter installed so now we can just get fresh water from the tap. Which is awesome. Especially since his parents' so-called fresh, clean mountain drinking water had pieces of dried tea in it. Yeah, real clean you guys. Now at least they won't bring these stupid jugs of water anymore.

These things were just mildly irritating. And as with anything MIL (or even FIL) ever does, each thing on its own doesn't send me into a rage. But added together they sure do, especially when added to what I discovered today...
One of my dimbulb in-laws broke the drum pedal on Raelynn's toy drum set!

Now when you step on it, it doesn't press down and make that lovely big boom that it should. I want to club them both in the head with the drumsticks. 

Raelynn loves her drum set and we do too. We got a great deal on it, but it still infuriates me that everything nice or cool that we ever have gets ruined somehow by Jeremy's parents. They don't even say, "Oh hey, sorry I broke that thing." They just break it and say nothing about it, which they have done so many times now, I've lost count. Or they get stains on Raelynn's nice clothes which has forced me to resort to dressing her in things I either don't care about getting ruined or darker colors. She just got a bunch of cute clothes from my parents and her Uncle Phillip and Aunt Kimmy and I don't want to come home after a long day of work to find that the cute clothes I've dressed her up in are now stained with soy sauce and Lord knows what shitacular barf she's cooked up for my poor child.

Here's hoping those troglodytes don't further damage this kick-ass drum set, or anything else. Especially my angel-baby. I'll end with a photo of Raelynn enjoying the drum set the first day we got it:

If The Shoe Fits...

Insert one of my mildly annoyed sighs here. Because when we went to go shopping in Taidong earlier this afternoon, this is what I'd found in Raelynn's closet when I went to pull out her white shoes:

First of all, I looooooooooooooove that MIL shoved a pair of dirty socks into one of the shoes. It must be too hard to take them off Raelynn's feet and put them into our laundry basket. Yes, this is MUCH easier. At least she used the rockin' socks from Phillip and Kimmy though. Secondly, one of these things is not like the others. One of these things does not belong. Take a closer look and you'll see that one of the shoes is missing a round, sparkly circle. When we first bought these shoes for Raelynn, I swear she yanked that circle off one of those shoes (I think this same one it is missing from now) every week. Fortunately, working in a kindergarten, we have tons of hot glue guns lying around, so I'd just bring the shoe to work and glue the bedazzled, circular adornment back into place.

Now, I'm not angry with MIL because Raelynn tore that thing off her shoe for the 100th time. I'm not even angry about the dirty socks being stuffed into them. What has me all pissy about this is that, for one, MIL did not even mention this to Jeremy or me. There was no: "Hey, while I took Raelynn to the park and to my dump of a house, she broke this piece off of her shoe" conversation. For another, we cannot even find this missing piece, which, as I just mentioned, I can fix with relative ease. I don't want to take my daughter out in shoes that look like this! They look ugly now! Bah!

Jeremy will be discussing this with his mother and hopefully, she'll have stashed this shoe decoration somewhere (perhaps in her hagtacular purse, next to the vegetables and whatever crap she totes around). But Fall is here and Winter is coming up soon, so in the meantime, while we were in Taidong, we went to the baby store there and bought Raelynn a new pair of sneakers and a pair of black boots. We also have those horrid red shoes MIL bought for her but I have tucked those in the back of the closet in her room. You know what? I better go dig those vomitous excuses for shoes out and stick them in MY closet where that old oaf knows better than to go digging through. I don't want my poor daughter being forced to wear those cloddish miniature octogenarian shoes. Barf!

Now She's Really Done It

Dear GOD. That stupid woman has done it. She's broken the Baby Bjorn. She somehow broke the metal frame. How the fuck did she do that? Maybe with her crazy, moldy, rat-like fake teeth? Who knows?!? All I know is that my former worst fears have become a reality.

8pm. Bedtime for Raelynn. I scoop her up and take her to her bedroom. I put her in her Baby Bjorn chair, give her a pacifier and read her a bedtime story. But something seems off about the chair, I notice. The lights are off in her room but it's lit up enough from the lights outside of it. The chair seems awfully low to the ground. I figure she's been getting bigger so maybe I should use one of the higher settings. I take her out and adjust the chair. But when I put her back in, it reclines so far that it's almost completely touching the floor again. I inspected the chair and that's when I discovered that stupid old troll had somehow snapped the metal frame.

I yelled for Jeremy who attempted to repair it with tape. It didn't hold. As I seethed with anger, I now had to rock Raelynn completely to sleep without the chair to help ease the weight from my arms and back. I told my husband how angry I was about this and that I at least expected an apology from his mother. I'm furious because I have begged and begged him to remind his parents to take care of our things and be careful to no avail. Maybe I should go to their house and break things and see how they fucking like it. But then again, we've seen how they live so I'm not sure how much good that will do. They should fucking replace it but you know they won't because they're old as Jeremy says. His fucking excuse for everyfuckingthing they ever do. "They're old!" His mom puts the knives back with the blade up. "She's old!" My FIL makes a mess and doesn't clean it up. "He's old!" You know, chronologically, my father is older but you'll never hear my brother or I (or even my father himself) blame his age for something he does. I love my husband dearly but I am getting beyond sick and tired of hearing him defend their blatant stupidity and ignorance with his sorry blanket excuse of oldness. THAT is what's getting old.

Of course, I'm sure she'll have another golden excuse of her own. Just like when she blamed the stroller. Hey, maybe she will blame the stroller for this too.  Yes, that's it. The stroller broke the chair. Maybe the stroller will have a heart and retaliate against her as well. Go stroller, go!

Chair Scare

Raelynn sitting in the Baby Bjorn Babysitter Balance chair, without doubt the most wonderfully useful gift any new parent could ever ask for.

For those of you who might have been wondering, "Gee, Jenn's been awfully quiet about MIL lately," this post is for you. Yes, those of you who beg for more MIL are in for a treat. Not me of course. You can take her. Free shipping and handling. She speaks no English, doesn't use any cleaning products when she cleans despite having been shown them dozens of times by her own son and needs reminding to use soap but she does make outstanding dumplings from scratch. If you want her, she is yours. I think even Lane is getting sick of her too.

Anyway, I have been trying not to complain about her too much because I don't want to hurt my husband's feelings. She's a spaz and all but she's his mother and somehow by the grace of God, she managed to raise him into an adult. An adult that ultimately left the country to study abroad in Korea and perhaps this explains why he is so normal and non-country bumpkin-like. Also, since I have been working, I don't have to see MIL except for perhaps 2 minutes a day when I first come home from work. She leaves right after I put down my stuff and rescue my baby from Grandma's smelly clutches. So she is tolerable in small doses. Like for 10 minutes total per week. Anything more would be pushing it and luckily for me (and her) I don't have to see her foot-shaped face (wart and all) early in the morning. There is not enough coffee in the known universe to cope with such a sight.

But this week, I nearly hit the roof. We had a scare with our chair. Our baby chair that is. We have a Baby Bjorn Babysitter Balance chair, which was a very lovely and generous gift from our friend, Cherie. Not that we don't appreciate all the gifts we have received for Raelynn (you all know who you are and we can't thank you enough), but this chair was like a gift for the three of us. Gone are the nights of sore arms and lost sleep. The chair calms her down easily and is a great place to put Raelynn when we're busy around the house. I must admit that I love this chair and I cannot even fathom surviving without it. Neither can Lane. I love this chair like I love egg tarts. Oh yes. I went there.

It was fine when I left for work in the morning. Raelynn had sat in there next to me while I ate my breakfast and all was well. But by the time I'd returned from work, something was wrong. Lane was kind enough to make dinner while I spent time with Raelynn. I read to her and played games with her and her toys until she inevitably got sleepy and began rubbing her little eyes and yawning. I put her in the chair to rock her into a nap and that's when I noticed it. Creak, creak, creak, creak, creak. Like death itself creeping from the depths of hell, this loud creaking noise bellowed from the chair. Raelynn seemed a little confused by the sound but thankfully, was too wiped out from our play time to be bothered. I tried to figure out what was the matter and finally called Lane in for reinforcement. I held Raelynn and we watched her daddy try to fix the chair. I could see annoyance and panic set into my husband's face too. He had concluded the same thing I had: that his ignorant mother had not taken proper care of the chair.

It had me steaming mad. I mean COME ON you old bag! Seriously. How hard is it to not fuck everything in sight up? Let's count all the things she's ruined, shall we? My clean kitchen floors. The kitchen counters, which are permanently damaged from her when she and her husband lived in this house years ago thanks to her putting pots and pans from the stove right on top of it while they were hot. And speaking of pots and pans, she can take a perfectly nice set of cookware and ruin it and Lord knows how! Our new pots and pans were still looking good until my husband allowed her to cook in our kitchen again and guess what looks like it's 100 years old? I mean BESIDES my MIL! Our poor pots and pans! The kitchen sink faucet, which is loose because of her. The fresh and clean smell of our house when she is NOT here. The window screens. The kitchen cabinets. She put her stupid step-stool that she uses as a chair (for reasons I cannot compute) when she sits with the baby on one of the foam play pads and punctured it. Oh and she clogged the bathroom sink by putting tea leaves down there. This is just the short list, mind you.

What annoys me most about all this is that she comes into our house and treats everything with such little regard. She doesn't take good care of her things and that's why everything she owns, new or old, looks like it's been left for dead. That's fine in HER house but not in OUR house. And now, our beloved chair! Oh hell no! There was no way I was going to let her mess up our baby chair. Lane said he would tell her she needed to be more careful though I urged him to also tell her I was going to break her face with said chair too. But MIL's luck changed for the better since, after applying some pressure to the base of the chair, the creaking ceased and the chair seems to be just fine. She gets to live, until she breaks something else we care about. As long as she doesn't destroy our chair and our peace and quiet that goes along with it.