Thursday, May 22, 2014

Pregnancy Peeves

Several years ago, when I was pregnant with Raelynn, I wrote a post called Pregnancy Annoyances. So now, I thought it would be interesting to create a new list of things that are annoying me during this pregnancy.

Le duh, right? You knew this. She's never stopped annoying me. But instead of just saying she annoys the shit out of me, here is WHY:
leaving perishable food out, showing up to cook for us on days we didn't agree to, insisting I eat something because it's good for the baby (but it's something stupid like that crappy Chinese bread that has no nutritional value whatsoever), butting into our decision-making like what kind of big girl bed to buy Raelynn, picking her scary teeth at the table whilst making gross sucking noises, complaining about what and how much Raelynn eats, buying ugly and/or too large items for Raelynn, making a mess and sitting on MY spot on the couch.

Another derrrrr. He's been getting on my nerves majorly lately because even though it is getting warmer out, he will insist I am not dressing Raelynn warmly enough. When Raelynn last got sick, he said it was because I didn't put a blanket on her when she was napping in 3 fucking layers of clothing in a warm room. Seriously. While I'll concede that in May, in the mornings and evenings, a light jacket or sweater is necessary, at 4pm when we get home from school, it's not. Neither is dropping a huge blanket on top of her when she's fully dressed and her face is red because she's hot. Ugh!

Both my in-laws combined.
Everything in this post still applies. 

"I'm soooooooooo tired!"
 My husband, when he says this, makes me want to kick him in the nuts. While I don't doubt that he was busy at work all day, or that driving to and from work sucked ass on top of it, he can't possibly be as tired as I am. I'm pregnant and teaching 20 rambunctious kindergarteners, one of whom has as much energy as 20 individual children. And when I get home, even if the head troll is here to cook for us, I take care of laundry and try to keep our home clean. I also like to play with Raelynn. And then I give her a bath, get her ready for bed and read her a bunch of stories. I'm sure he's tired but not to the extent that I am.

While we're on the subject of my husband, let's talk about his snoring. Jeremy snores so loudly I must wear earplugs in order to sleep next to him. Even with the highest decibel-blocking kind of earplugs, I can STILL hear him. If I am lucky enough to fall asleep before he does, I have a better chance of not being disturbed. But being almost 31 weeks pregnant now, I cannot possibly roll over without flailing around like an overturned turtle. Or get out of bed discretely to go pee for the 10th time. So when he sort-of wakes, he starts the snore cycle all over again and I am forced to kick the man I love repeatedly until he rolls over and shuts the fuck up.

Furniture rearrangements.
Lest you think I'm a madwoman, I must tell you that my husband just gets into these insane moods where he decides to rearrange the furniture. Since we will be getting Raelynn a big girl bed (which, incidentally, will now be a bed the in-laws already have that FIL is hammering some guardrail onto...grrrrrrreat...), the crib will need to move into our room while the baby is small. So our big entertainment cabinet that once was out in the living room which was moved to our bedroom is now back out in the living room. This I don't mind. It's the next batch of crap he decides he wants to change without thinking logically. Like when he moved his desk into the middle of our bedroom. Um, no, Honey.
He scooted it next to his side of the bed. But prior to that, he just pushed it in the center of our room. That fucking y chromosome! Fortunately, this desk is quite light so I just pushed it back against the wall where it had previously been residing once I came home from work the next day. I anticipate that any day now, he will move the couch around and possibly our bed. Urgh...

Bathroom hogs at school.
In kindergarten, we have a unisex bathroom. There are 4 small urinals for the boys and there are 3 toilet stalls. 2 of the toilet stalls have small toilets in there for the children. The third one has a regular-size toilet for teachers. For some unknown reason (perhaps dietary?) our 2 kindergarten Chinese teachers are ALWAYS in there taking massive and exceedingly long shits. The other day, one of them buzzed past me in the hall while I was taking my students to the bathroom before snack. After my kids had all used the bathroom and washed their hands, I went to use the bathroom. She was STILL in there! The Korean teacher had taken my students back to class and I was waiting, tapping my feet outside the bathroom angrily. I paced the hallway outside until I could no longer take it. I ran over to the elementary department and used one of the squatters. Now I hate that Chinese teacher. She should walk her dumb ass over there and shit in the squatters or learn to take a shit at school more quickly. Or perhaps not eat whatever the fuck causes her to sit in the bathroom for an extensive period of time.

The Chihuahua
I had a lovely 2-week break from The Chihuahua while he was in Korea with his family. Now that he's back, he's making me nuts again. When I was on my break after lunch, he comes up to me in my office, whining like a baby because he can't put his toothpaste on his toothbrush. Seriously. Remember, this kid is 7! His tube wasn't brand new but it wasn't completely empty or difficult to squeeze. My Korean teacher, Christina, and I exchanged annoyed glances and I sighed heavily as I explained to him how to put toothpaste on his toothbrush. When he scrambled out of there, I repeatedly banged my head on my desk. Later, Christina had to physically drag him away from someone else's mom to get him on the school bus. He was circling this poor woman just like a hyperactive chihuahua.

Pregnancy-related ailments.
I am about to hit week 31 and it's mid-May, so now we're getting into swollen feet/cankles territory. Just what I always wanted...feet that resemble cinder blocks. It makes me think of what Fred Flintstone would look like if he got a pink pedicure. The heartburn is no fun either. Neither is just about anything else I do. I can no longer stand for long periods of time. I feel tired, yet I can't get comfortable. Add a baby kicking my bladder and a snoring husband and my sweet dreams are anything but.

Chinese traffic.
Okay, so I don't drive here. I'm not fucking nuts. But my husband is. And whether I'm in the car with him, or in the taxi with Hao Shufu on the way to school, or even on the school bus on the way home, I am completely stunned by how stupid people here can be in traffic situations. Part of it is that many people bribed their way into getting driver's licenses. The other part of it is that no one enforces the traffic laws. When you mix those two fun ingredients together, you get traffic anarchy. People who double-park and block a small road so that everyone begins honking and no one moves. It's sheer lunacy. People get into fender benders and then they stop in the middle of the traffic and block everything because that would make too much sense to photograph or record any damage quickly and move out of the way. No, no. It's best to hold everyone's day up because you were too stupid to look when you cut over 5 lines to make a right turn. We'll wait.

Construction zone.
In China, much like my husband gets a random hair up his ass to push our furniture about into idiotic configurations, other Chinese people like to randomly decide to remodel their apartments. In these older concrete buildings, if the unit above or below you is renovating, you can hear it like it is INSIDE your apartment. You can't sleep. You can't watch TV. You can't have a conversation with a person sitting right next to you. Also, your child can't sleep, which is probably the worst of all. There are no noise ordinances here and no one thinks to come tell you that they're going to be remodeling for a few days. So suddenly, you'll just hear a jackhammer that sounds like it's coming through your wall, ceiling or floor. The guy that used to live below us decided to start reconstructing something in his home at 6am one day. My husband had to go tell him he was disturbing our sleep. You're still sleeping? At 6am on a Saturday? Oh, I woke up your baby? We were so happy when that idiot moved. But before he did, he totally remodeled his bathroom which, according to Jeremy, did not need any renovations whatsoever. For 2 weeks, he made a mess of the stairwell AND made so much noise it was maddening. Recently, we had new people move upstairs. AGAIN. But instead of the usual migrant workers who rent it out, someone is actually sticking around. So they drilled and banged and clanked. I thought it was over until earlier this week when I went to lay down for a nap after work. As soon as my head hit the pillow, a loud, screeching drill noise droned through our room. DIE!

This is China.
I miss my friends and family so very much. And I am so very happy and feel so very loved when you think of me too. When you offer suggestions about remedies or products, please remember...THIS IS CHINA. Supermarkets are NOT the same as they are in the US. Nothing is the same as it is in the US. Something that is easy for you to go pick up at the store might be next to impossible for me. Things that I took for granted before I moved. These things are things you don't realize how lucky you are to have. I love you all for even trying to think of things for me (and an extra special thank you to family and friends who have been so kind to send care packages), but please remember it is very frustrating for me when you suggest I go buy X product because you can find it at the supermarket. I don't always have that luxury. I can sometimes order things from online but many imported goods are very expensive. Oh, and while we're on that, please don't tell me something is cheap when you convert rmb to US dollars. I am not being paid in US dollars, so to me, spending 200 rmb on something IS expensive.

Let me vent.
I'm pregnant, uncomfortable, tired, busy, and trying to live my life with my family in a totally different country. It is NOT easy to do this. I love my husband and am absolutely thrilled that we have created our sweet little family together. Despite the challenges it brings to be married to someone whose first language is not the same as my own and who has a vastly different culture, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Ever. Even if his parents and some of the things about his culture make me crazy. While not everything here makes me cranky and incurs my wrath, sometimes I need to vent. Not all my posts on my blog or Facebook page are angry and negative so when I vent, please don't give me some shiny, happy fuckheaded comment about how I should be more positive because the way I see it, if I'm writing about it, I'm letting out my anger in a healthy and constructive way.

And now, I will end this post because I feel much better having channeled my angst properly out of my body and into my keyboard instead of picking up the broom and smashing it over FIL's head. Now THAT'S therapy!

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