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!

Genius.

A few evenings a week, my in-laws take Raelynn over to the neighborhood mountain park. They're usually gone for about an hour, returning her to us around 8pm. Which is a little annoying but because we're moving away, I am letting it go. It won't be much longer we have to endure The Stupids. Thank GOD!

When I came home today, I found half of a watermelon sitting on our table. My husband had cut it open last night and wrapped the remainder of it with cling wrap. Now it was sitting out, sans wrap, attracting gnats. Who wants watermelon with gnat corpses? Oh me me me ME! NOT.

She saw me scowl at it and quickly covered it up. Why don't you take the tainted watermelon home and eat it then, if you like leaving food out for insects so much? Dummy.

Then, I went to turn on the satellite TV so Raelynn could watch Nickelodeon while I fed Seoul. And as I go to turn the cable box on, I see, sitting on top of the wires that connect it to the TV in a place the baby can't yet get to (thank GOD!) a gnawed on apple segment that was now rubbery and textured like it had been sitting there ALL day. Please note this was not there when I left for work. I grabbed the offending apple piece, chucked it at the table and just began shouting at the sky. "I hate it here! Gah! I can't wait to move!" Is she trying to make me even more excited about moving away? If so, job well done, though I sincerely doubt that's her intention.

Just after 8pm, as I'm almost about to worry, I can hear Raelynn in the stairwell. So I start to whip open the door. Only FIL and Raelynn are standing right there and he's stupidly rang our loud, noisy ear-splitting doorbell even as the door is opening. Because. He's. A. Total. Idiot. Hello???? Sleeping baby in here! I tell him as nicely as possible the baby is sleeping and he seems confused as to why this is an issue. Or he's just jerk. I'm not really sure about that, but what I am sure about is that very soon, we will be moving away and I won't have to deal with these troglodytes for a good long while at least. Hooray!

Well This Explains A Lot...

I think it was Friday evening when my husband said he was going to go get his hair cut. In China, it's easy for a man to go run out down the street and find somebody with a chair out on the sidewalk snipping away on some dullard's hair. Jeremy usually comes back with a decent enough trim though I wish he'd go to a stylist sometimes because seriously, these people can never seem to even out his sideburns. But alas, my pleas for obtaining a normal haircut fall on deaf ears.

Thankfully, I've never been subjected to such heinous hair torture here. Quite the opposite.

Jeremy returned rather quickly. More quickly than usual when seeking out a random street haircut. That's because with Chinese New Year just about upon us, most street vendors have hauled ass back to where they came from. No one is really around (though traffic today would have you think otherwise). MIL was still at our house that evening (don't ask...she's like a bad rash that just won't quit) and apparently, she suggested to Jeremy that he let his father cut his hair.

You see where this is going, don't you? When he translated this to me, I about peed in my pants from laughter. Oh yes! Let your father cut your hair. This should be good. I looked over at MIL and I thought, My God. THAT is why her hair looks like that, isn't it? Now I kind of feel sorry for her. That poor woman has probably never once ever in her life had even a hint of a flattering haircut. I mean, just look at her!

She'd look better if she cut her hair with a Flowbee for crying out loud!

Now I know you all are just dying to see what Jeremy's hair looks like, aren't you? Well first, here's how he looked before he allowed his father to cut his hair...

Before...and now...presenting...

After...

 Lord! It's a good thing he's so handsome. FIL apparently used an electric razor and sporadically sheared away Jeremy's hair. Lucky for him, his hair grows faster than weeds so he won't have to look so off for too long.

What? You don't think it's so bad? Please, come see it from the side, won't you?

Uh, yeah. So next time, he's going for a real haircut. This is what happens when you cheap out on things, silly husband!

Another Demonic Bunny Nightmare

On Saturday morning after I'd Skyped with my folks, the doorbell rang. I assumed that it was just Jeremy returning from his weekly soccer game. Sometimes he doesn't bring his keys or he's just lazy and wants us to open the door. I'd just put Seoul down for her morning nap and was hanging out with Raelynn. "Daddy!" she shouts. I tell her to go let her daddy in.

But it's not her daddy. It's FIL.

Inexplicably, at least to me, FIL has decided to come over to bring this item...

Gah! It's another evil bunny rabbit! Straight out of my nightmares and into my home!

I'd like you to also take note that this is how it looked when he gave it to Raelynn, with the ears breaking off. It looks used, right? I mean in addition to being possessed, which clearly, it is. Like FIL.

This awful thing is mechanical too. Do the ears wiggle? Do the legs move? God, I bet those evil red eyes light right up.

 Of course, FIL couldn't be bothered to put batteries in it. I will never figure this man out. Why does he bring her things like this? I seriously think he's a few fireworks short of a Chinese New Year.

 Demon bunny is watching you! Gah! I think it has a tongue! We are never ever EVER putting batteries in Satan's bunny toy. I cannot wait to get rid of this thing. When we go to move, we will be selling any toys that are still functioning and worth selling. Others we will give away. And this thing we will shove in a hole in the ground and bury with cement because we cannot fathom inflicting it upon any other family. Die, evil bunny! Die!

Insanely Idiotic FIL

As you know, I'm not a huge fan of my in-laws. I've felt trapped in our home even though I am on vacation because one or both of them has been here much thanks to Raelynn having being sick. I am grateful for the assistance and have been trying to be polite but it can be so incredibly hard. Like when your MIL blames you for baking a cake for her son's birthday because she wholeheartedly believed my demon cake from America is what made Raelynn sick.

Newsflash: it didn't.

After a day of vomiting, Raelynn spent a day with a fever that wouldn't quit. It kept getting higher so my in-laws took her to the hospital to see what was wrong. I was hysterical, still never getting over that taking your kid to the hospital is as normal as taking your kid to the doctor's office back home. I feared she'd have to have another IV treatment. My poor precious girl.

I busied myself with all kinds of tasks in preparation for our upcoming Guangzhou trip like organizing our documents for the 50th time and trying to figure out what outfits I should pack. Soon, darkness fell and it was 5:30pm. I was so worried that I didn't feel like eating but because I'm breastfeeding Seoul, I knew I must eat something. With not much around to work with, I began chopping up leeks to saute with egg, a very quick Chinese dish that I actually like. I put Seoul in the Baby Bumbo at the entrance to the kitchen and she cooed away at me while I worked. Suddenly, I heard the sounds of an old troll in the stairs. I thought I must be imagining things. I didn't expect them to be back from the hospital already. But to my absolute delight, they were! Raelynn didn't need an IV treatment this time, thank the Lord! They gave her some medicine for a sore throat.

Jeremy had been just as worried but trapped at work. I called him to give him the good news. He'd be home shortly. When he finally did get home, he spoke to his mom. She told him that the doctor said this was NOT caused by cake. Well, duh. She said the doctor asked what we'd done 72 hours before she became sick. Guess where we were? We were at church and Raelynn must have picked up this lovely grossness from some kid in her play group. I sincerely hope whoever gave her this ailment had no idea their child was sick because sending your sick kid into a play group is pretty low. I'd like to think the best of people so I am hoping the parents were not aware. Or any of those kids could have been carriers of the illness without being sick themselves.

Raelynn is now feeling much better, in time for our trip, which makes us happy. And once the doctor told MIL that the cake was not the cause of Raelynn's illness, she shut the fuck up about my cake. No apology for blaming my American cooking and baking, mind you, but that's just the kind of cow she is. But FIL? That guy is a fucking insanely idiotic psycho. Yesterday, in addition to causing Raelynn to act out and then DEFENDING her bad behavior, he tells me her throat hurts because she ate my cake. Are you fucking serious? I unloaded about 50 fuck yous in his direction and called him a total moron. Even your wife has more sense than you, and that's pretty fucking bad when someone as dumb as MIL is considered a step up.

When I told Jeremy, he just shook his head. He wasn't surprised. Oh how we hang on and hope that our trip to Guangzhou will bring us a brighter future in the form of a visa for my husband. We need to get away from these people.

Great Going, Grandpa!

Thank goodness for Google searches so I can find the perfect images to illustrate my posts. This one's from here. 

Please read the title of this post with as much sarcasm as you can drip from your voice. Because FIL has outdone himself yet again in undoing the positive progress we've made in Raelynn's behavior.

Despite my repeated pleas, FIL comes to meet us at the bus drop-off each day. When I was pregnant with Seoul, this was very helpful because I couldn't carry a sleeping Raelynn and our bags off the bus, up the hill, down the street and up 6 flights of stairs. But now that I'm not pregnant, I welcome the strenuous exercise. It's the only workout I've got time for at the moment and FIL ruins it every day by being there. But with any luck, we'll be moving to the US soon enough so I think to myself, "What's the harm in letting him come to greet his eldest granddaughter when she gets home from school?"

Oh silly me.

I should have known there would be great harm in allowing this. After all, we remember what a maternity leave of daily outings to the park with her grandparents resulted in: crazy behavior at the US Embassy in Guangzhou.

Today, Raelynn had fallen asleep on the bus. Some days she doesn't, but today she did. I tried to wake her which resulted in a groggy toddler. She started to follow me but FIL came on board and she didn't want to go with him. I keep calling her from the door to come with me. The bus driver looks dull-eyed and annoyed. Certainly he wants to move on from here and go play mahjong for hours on end while drinking tons of beer and smoking tons of cigarettes, or whatever he does when he's not driving the bus. Finally, FIL just scoops her up and she kicks and screams and goes into full-blown tantrum mode.

We get her on the side of the road and she's completely flipping out. And then, she bites FIL. On his thigh. Savage. So, still carrying all our bags, I snatch her up and carry her, telling her things like "No!" and "We don't bite people! Wait until Daddy hears about this!" And she's upset but she's listening to me. Until I put her down a block away. Because I am wearing high-heeled boots and I cannot keep wobbling in them, with our bags and carrying her on this lumpy craptacular sidewalk. She's furious about this and flips out. She wraps her arms around one of my legs - classic toddler tantrum move - and I have to hobble down the sidewalk the rest of the way. Now instead of not wanting her grandpa, who she was saying she didn't like moments before, she says she doesn't like ME. Because I won't carry her anymore.

Of course that idiot feeds into this and allows her to behave this way, carrying her like a baby and giving into her demands. Once up the stairs and away from nosy morons on the street who kept trying to butt in (and were abruptly cursed at by yours truly), we enter our home. MIL is naturally curious about why Raelynn's crying this time so I explain to her what happened from the whole biting incident on forward. I tell Raelynn to go to her room until she can come out and tell her grandpa she's sorry, which she STILL had not done because he gave in to her.

She screams and carries on, while the actual baby in the house serenely peers at me from MIL's arms. She wiggles and reaches toward me and I'm so happy to see her little face again. She wants her milk boobs so I tell MIL to have Raelynn stay in her room until she says sorry to FIL.

I can hear everything from the bedroom but I can't do anything because Seoul is blissfully latched on and enjoying breastmilk straight from the tap. All I can do is send Jeremy WeChat messages from my phone, telling him all about it. Once Seoul finishes her meal, I take her with me to talk to Raelynn who has now stopped crying her eyes out.

She's fine, actually. And as I try to talk to her about why her behavior wasn't good, she tells me, "Grandpa gave me a piece of candy!"

"WHAT?!?" I say, stunned. And then I turned to him and asked him in Chinese, "Ni gei ta tang?!?" And that total imbecile says yes, because she was crying and he didn't want her to cry. Oh. My. GOD! What is wrong with him?!? I actually ask him this. I then tell him as politely as I possibly can in my poor Chinese that I don't want him to give her candy when she's been bad because then she thinks she can act out like that and get rewards. And he harped on the whole "but she was crying bit." Augh!

Jeremy gave him a big lecture when he got home but FIL didn't understand still. I asked my husband to explain to him that if he loves Raelynn, he sometimes needs to let her cry and be disappointed. One day she'll be in America and I don't want her acting this way. I would be absolutely embarrassed if she acted like this at my parents' house. Then again, my parents wouldn't be giving her candy if she'd been that rotten in their presence.

But one good thing did come of this incident - FIL said he won't wait at the bus stop tomorrow to punish her for biting him today. I don't know if that will work but hey, I'll be happy to not have him mess up my parenting.

Oh and in case you're wondering about MIL, let me just bitch about her for 2 seconds. See, I'm finishing this post after Raelynn's bedtime routine and after hanging out with my husband in the living room. We enjoyed some ice cream together while watching TV. When I went to serve him that ice cream though, I noticed something odd on top of our mammoth refrigerator. I tried taking photos but the flash whites it out completely and without flash, you can't see it, much thanks to the pathetic, paltry little light in our kitchen, so you'll have to envision what I'm about to describe...

On top of the refrigerator, I noticed a plastic food container (calling this wonky thing "Tupperware" is a stretch) covered with a clear plastic bag. Because she just can't ever figure out how to use lids. I saw it when I was opening up the freezer to get the ice cream. I opened the freezer door and stopped. I closed it and reached up to this foreign object. And I noticed with disgust that it had a leftover cooked fish dish inside of it. Leaving food out is totally MIL's calling card but this is a new one. I mean ON TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR. You know, I'm not a tall girl at five-foot-four but I'm not short either. Still, I had to reach up to grab this thing. It required effort on my part. MIL is not taller than I am. She's not shrunken and short either. So she had to actually work at putting this container of food up there. Jeremy just laughed. And I'm sure you are too but I'm not. Because only a crazy person would do that and we are stuck leaving that crazy person to watch our precious baby. Lord!

Designed By FIL

It's been a hot minute since FIL has given us something to gawk at. Remember all this? Yeah. Just scroll through all that for a moment. I especially love this project.

FIL's been refraining from his half-assed repairs and decorating for a while. But today, he apparently couldn't help himself. I came home and saw this...

I love this silky scroll thing, by the way. We picked that out to replace all the horrible things that my in-laws had in this house when we moved into it. When I first saw this arrangement though, I thought, "Who the hell touched our scroll? Why is it draped over the lamp?"

Upon closer inspection, I discovered this...

See, the lamp's neck was a bit broken. It wouldn't raise up any higher. This didn't bother us. But it apparently bothered FIL. So he decided to string it up and tie it to the same nail our scroll hangs from. Because. Because he's severely touched in the head? I've no idea. It's not like this lamp is miles higher than it was. I just fail to understand the purpose of this repair. Jeremy didn't understand either. He just laughed at my confusion over this and then patted my hand, reminding me that we'll move soon enough. Please God, let us move away from here as soon as we can so I don't have to fight the urge to string FIL up. Why anyone would think this is a great idea is beyond me. Then again, it's FIL so that explains a lot.

Oh Please!

 One of my best friends/former co-workers always said this and I think it applies perfectly to MIL. And FIL too.

This morning, I officially had it. And I think my husband has too.

Last night after dinner, while I was busy nursing Seoul and putting her to bed, Jeremy was cleaning up in the kitchen with his mother. As they cleaned, he spoke to her about doing a better job cleaning up and not leaving such a mess. He also asked her to not make so much food and to please use the meats and vegetables we have in our kitchen instead of bringing all of her stuff. It was Thursday night and on Fridays, she doesn't come to cook her barfy slop for us. My husband said he was simply speaking to her and not yelling about this. She brings over all this food we never asked her to bring and he likes to keep his promise to me about us eating my kinds of foods on the weekend.

You'd think in a mixed family like ours, his parents would at least try to eat some Western food or learn some American customs and traditions. But no. It all has to be me trying to fit into their culture. And my husband now sees how terribly unfair it is to me, and our children who are now both US citizens as well. He sees that I'm always the one to make a compromise while his parents push and push and push, crossing over any line of boundaries we ever set. 

MIL must be forgetting that if she fucks with us, she won't see her grandkids because she pulled some big bullshit today after my husband had spoken to her about his concerns. Instead of listening to him, you know what she does? She refuses to come up in the morning to get Raelynn for the mountain park and instead, sends FIL. Oh goodie.

That's how I found out about Jeremy's conversation with his mother. Because as I lay there nursing Seoul at about 8:30 this morning, Jeremy comes into our bedroom and sits down in my desk chair with a huff. He looks annoyed and very sad. After 4 years of marriage, I know his faces. All of them. And I hate to see this one.

He doesn't even want to leave for work yet because he doesn't want to speak to his father anymore. Apparently, FIL came in and instantly gave Jeremy a hard time about his talk with his mother. Let me clarify that he TALKED to her. There was no shouting. I would have certainly heard that in our bedroom while I got the baby to go to sleep. Yes, he talked to her about not making so much food, please use our meats and vegetables and to help clean up better and she got upset about THAT. She chooses THAT to flip out about instead of when I shrieked at her the other day.

I told you she's a manipulative cow. She's sulking until she gets her way and my husband now sees it all very clearly. Instead of having the effect she wants it to have, he just can't wait for us to move away. You know, those 2 idiots better be nicer to Jeremy. He doesn't have to take care of them as they age even further. In fact, after this, I hope he lets them rot. I hate when they treat him badly. My husband somehow turned out well despite having them as parents. Perhaps because he spent 10 years of his life living away from them, between going to college in China and traveling around on his soccer team to living in Korea. He always tells me he was so happy during that time because he was away from them. Jeremy is a smart and wonderful person but his parents never see this. Maybe it's the Asian way, but they are constantly pushing him down even when he has success. His insurance job? Oh that's worse than being a beggar, they tell him. They never praise him for the things he's accomplished in his life. And of course, when he has a failure, as all of us do from time to time, they shove that right in his face.

Now my husband feels bad about himself and is sitting in my chair, staring out the window. He needs to get going and start his day but he doesn't want to encounter his father again, who is inexplicably taking his sweet fucking time getting Raelynn off to the park. I tell Jeremy I'll shoo him away. FIL doesn't like to talk to me too much.

When I emerge from our room, I see he's already taken out ALL of her toys and now we've got blocks all over the fucking living room floor like some sort of obstacle course. He knows I hate this so I bet he's done this on purpose. Asshole. I see Raelynn's got her shoes on so I try to focus on getting her excited to leave so he'll follow suit. But he keeps insisting she needs to drink tea. She has a thermos full of water. Give that to her. No, no. He treats me like I'm some horrible mother because I won't give my daughter tea to drink. He then takes forever to make tea and pour it into 2 different metal rice bowls. Because why give her a cup to drink out of like a person? No, let's drink out of bowls like dogs. How Chinese. He then decides she needs to eat another egg. OH. MY. GOD. Just take my kid out to the park and go. We agreed on this arrangement so you could spend time with Raelynn and so that I could have a break in the morning and now I have to clean up after this jackass instead of relax. I'm ready to kill him. Finally, he leaves and Jeremy is happy again. He can leave without having to endure more bullshit from his dad.

I'm seriously sick of these 2 idiots. Some might argue they help us. Yes, they do. But then they jump in and help with things we didn't ask them to help with and then they try to control everything and yell at my husband when he nicely asks them to please stop. It's insane. I would love it if they never came over anymore. Seriously. LOVE IT. Hire a nanny to watch Seoul and take Raelynn to school with me and watch her behavior problems that they caused disappear again. It would be so lovely.

But of course, we're stuck enduring these nimrods for a little while longer at least. Hopefully not too much longer. My husband will forgive this incident but he won't forget it. He's got one foot out the door with me and our 2 beautiful daughters on his arm.

Don't Poke The Bear

If you've ever been pregnant, or like me ARE pregnant, you know how your hormones can seriously make you feel like you could snap a person in half like a twig with your bare hands. If you've never experienced pregnancy first-hand, perhaps you have known a pregnant person (sister, cousin, friend, co-worker, etc.) and if so, hopefully you haven't done anything to incur their wrath.

Because to piss off a pregnant woman is totally like poking a bear. A big mean, mama bear who will crush you like a fucking bug, rip you from limb to limb and rip out your vital organs one by one.

But let's say you're a person who has no clue how to keep from severely pissing off a pregnant woman to the point of no return. What about those people?

Yes, exactly. You're a dumb ass to the extreme if you do that. Guess who's on today's dumb ass list?

Surly the Bus Driver caused me to come thisclose to a homicidal rage. I seriously doubt that if I had killed him anyone would be upset by it or blame me in the slightest. The bus Surly drives has windows that do not open. There is a ceiling hatch toward the front, right by where I sit with Raelynn. There's also one in the back. When weather is nice, opening these provides a lovely breeze. There's also air-conditioning. Which you have to practically beg him to turn on. Today wasn't too hot but because it had rained earlier in the day, I guess Surly shut the ceiling hatches to keep from getting the seats wet. But the rain was long gone when we got on the bus to go home. I fanned at myself desperately and even loudly mentioned, in Chinese, that it was hot. But Surly didn't take the hint. Why should he? He's a man in China that drives a bus and sits next to the only opening window on the bus for that matter.

He starts the engine and I have a brief glimmer of hope that he'll turn on the A/C today. But no. He keeps driving and I feel my blood start to boil and pound in my head. Kill, kill, kill! The first grade teacher also rides my same bus and recently, had an unfortunate accident while walking about, causing her to break her foot and hobble around on crutches. I seriously SERIOUSLY contemplated taking one of her crutches to bust out the windows. Or smash Surly in the head.

I turned to one of the Chinese teachers on the bus and asked her to help me ask him to please at least open the fucking ceiling hatch. At the next traffic light, Surly saved his life by complying with that request. Somehow, Raelynn slept through all this which is odd because usually, when she's too hot, she refuses to sleep. I guess I got lucky with that today. Once the air started circulating through the bus, my urge to kill began subsiding. I still feel a twinge of rage though at Surly and other people in Asia in general who do not open the windows on a nice day to circulate the air or turn on the A/C. There is a special place in hell for people like this.

Just as my rage was subsiding and I was finally mellowing out to some tunes on my iPod, we get to our stop. FIL is there waiting for us as always. He boards the bus to help me carry Raelynn. I'd put a very light sweater on Raelynn this morning because in the morning, she needed it, which is the nice part about June in Qingdao. But in the afternoon, especially on Surly's bus of hellish heat, it wasn't necessary. She didn't want to wear it anymore and I couldn't blame her. On Fridays, the children bring home a bunch of extra stuff so there was no room in her bag for the sweater. There was no room in my handbag either so I just tied it to the straps. As FIL starts to lift up Raelynn, he points to the sweater urgently, like it's so fucking cold outside that she needs this sweater. I suddenly wished I'd found a way to make that sweater fit in the bag so he would shut the fuck up. He kept gesturing toward it wildly and I snatched my bag away from him and hissed. Seriously, I hissed. Like an angry animal. I gave him THE meanest fucking look I've ever given him and told him to go. Which in retrospect might have pissed him off because "gao" (pronounced "go" by most Chinese) means "dog" which is considered insulting but my first instinct is to speak in my first language and I can't help that. But I make no apologies because this man doesn't deserve them. I've been pissy with him since he screamed at my husband and insulted our parenting. Go fuck yourself, FIL.

Even if we had been on the best of terms and this occurred, I think what FIL did next was extremely passive aggressive and fucked up to do to a woman who is in her last week of her 8th month of pregnancy. He walked ahead of me carrying Raelynn, which is no big deal since I'm pregnant and obviously a lot slower now. But when he got to our building door, instead of holding it like he's done many times before as I was just a few steps behind him, he let it shut, which causes a loud clanking sound. Shockingly, Raelynn slept through this still. What the fuck is wrong with you that you would let a door slam in my face to be an asshole to me so that you can potentially wake your grandchild who NEEDS that nap she's taking?!? He did it again when we got up the stairs to my apartment. He didn't shut the door completely so I didn't need to dig for my keys but then again, perhaps he was trying to keep flies and mosquitoes out which maybe I'll give him the benefit of the doubt on this door-closing. But the building door? No, that fool did it on purpose.

Once inside, he of course was looking for Raelynn's blanket to put on her. He's at least been going for a light sheet I showed him. But last night in the very wee hours, Raelynn came to sleep with us and brought her light sheet with her. I'd forgotten to put it back on her bed. So FIL is asking where it is. I go to get it and before I can turn around, he's snatching it right from my hand in my room. Seriously, FUCK YOU FIL. You are so lucky we weren't in the kitchen and near the knives because I would have cut you. And my husband and your wife would not have been angry about that. AT ALL.

In fact, some good did come of this. When Jeremy arrived home, I told him what had happened today. He was talking to his mom about it and she said from now on, she would come meet me at the bus stop. And she promised that while we were in the hospital having the baby, she would not leave her husband alone with Raelynn. She's slowly but surely learning to adjust to our blended culture, even though her cooking still sucks. But I'll take her shitty cooking in exchange for the safety of my daughter any day.

A Whole Bunch Of Drips

Found this neat painting here that artistically brings drips to life.

My day was filled with all things drippy. From drippy kids to drippy ceilings to drippy in-laws. Ugh.

That chihuahua kid today spent the better part of 10 minutes trying to hang his windbreaker on the coat rack. It was snack time and Christina was watching them for a moment while I ran to the bathroom. When I returned, she was standing over him quite crossly. He had apparently failed to put his windbreaker up properly. And so he continued to disappoint her while he incompetently attempted to rectify the situation. The other children watched with great amusement as they munched their snacks, as mystified as us teachers that after nearly 4 months in this class, he still couldn't use a hanger. Drip.

When I came home, after FIL carried one sleeping Raelynn into the house and left her to finish her nap on the sofa, I walked into the kitchen to get some water. That's when I noticed a giant puddle on the floor. Not like when the pipes broke and flooded the kitchen, thankfully, but it looked like someone had spilled a very large beer all over the floor. Immediately, I thought my husband must have spilled something all over the floor on his way out and didn't have time to clean it up. How hard is it to mop up a spill? I wonder to myself as I snatch the mop up and restore some order to our floor.

I left the kitchen for a moment and returned to get my water and that's when I heard a "plip" sound. I looked all around and something compelled me to look up. Those idiots upstairs and their infinite remodeling that they promised would be done weeks ago (it's not - they keep doing random things intermittently here and there) somehow caused something to leak from our ceiling.

MIL showed up a short while later and I told her about the leak. She asked me to call my husband. Um, can YOU just go up there and tell them it's leaking? You are Chinese after all, right? You can speak to them about the problem, can't you? Why should we wait until Jeremy comes home? We should tell these people now that whatever it is they are doing to their unit is now seeping down from our kitchen ceiling. Drip. Drip.

So off she went to tell the upstairs idiots. A moment later, she returns with one of them who pokes his head into the kitchen and looks up. Oh, he muses. Drip. Drip. Drip.

It's still dripping, by the way, but at a very slow pace.

And speaking of drips, there is my FIL, who, when he came to help me get sleeping Raelynn off the school bus, removed one of his 2 shirts (need I remind you that it is mid-June and he is wearing 2 shirts!!!!!) and draped it over her as he carried her down the street. I dressed her in a light-weight long-sleeve shirt today because this morning it was cool and breezy, thanks to some rain, but by afternoon, the sun was shining and it was pretty warm. She did not need another garment covering her. I kept telling him "mei shi" which basically means "don't worry about this" but he ignored me. I hate him for this. I fear leaving Raelynn with him when we're in the hospital with the baby. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

But that's not all FIL did to piss me off. He goes for a walk in the evenings and MIL calls him to tell him there's food. He's been avoiding hanging out here ever since he and Jeremy argued about when Raelynn last got sick. FIL blamed us for it because he's a fuckhead. So don't come over and play with your grandchild. Moron. Well, today he actually decides to come up for dinner. At 7:30pm. When I'm trying to get Raelynn into the tub for a bath. And now she doesn't want to comply because look! Here's Grandpa in all his glory finally coming over to hang out. During her bedtime. Thanks asshole. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

F-Off FIL!

You know what would be nice? To go more than 2 weeks at a time without any of us in this household getting sick. I would fucking love that. More than anything, I would love for us to enjoy a healthy weekend outside of the house before this baby comes along and makes us all insane.

Of course, we have FIL to make us insane until then.

Very early this morning, Raelynn woke up coughing. My husband was yelling at her which is what actually woke me up. I thought she was coughing because she was upset he'd yelled and she simply needed some water. But she kept coughing after that. Long after that. And we realized she wasn't in need of water. She needed medicine.

Jeremy has finally come to realize that it doesn't matter how much clothing your kid is wearing, if the wind is blowing on them, or the A/C is turned on, or what kind of food you feed your child because none of this is what makes children sick. After we Skyped with my folks, we took Raelynn to the doctor.

I suggested she stay home from school tomorrow. Jeremy was unsure about it but before bed, she was still showing a fever, though thankfully a much lower grade of fever. So he called his folks to ask them to please come watch her while we're at work. While he did that, I got Raelynn ready for bed. And as I read her stories, I heard my husband screaming into the phone.

I tried to listen but it's hard when you're busy reading in your first language and trying to listen in your 4th language, a language you suck badly at. Once Raelynn was in bed and he got off the phone, we were able to discuss what happened. He'd called FIL first and FIL screamed at my husband and blamed him for Raelynn being sick again. It shook Jeremy up so much, to the point where he confided that he thinks something is mentally wrong with his father.

It's crazy when MIL is the more sane one, isn't it? Jeremy talked to her next and she was much more rational than her husband, thankfully. FIL has been pissing me off so much lately with his idiotic ideas about putting a blanket on Raelynn when she naps when it is warm inside the house or closing the window because the wind will make her sick. He seriously thinks this! He's fucking nuts!

If MY father had said it was our fault she got sick so often, I'd listen. BECAUSE HE'S A DOCTOR! But on Skype today, my folks simply expressed sympathy, saying this is what happens with small children. My parents are educated. My in-laws are not, which isn't their fault, but it sure is infuriating when you have someone with the brain of a scarecrow (or lack thereof) trying to tell you how to care for your child and telling you you're a bad parent. 

It makes me fearful of when we go to the hospital to have the baby. Jeremy has already made his mom promise to bring Raelynn to see us each day but I want to talk to her about not letting her husband take Raelynn anywhere by himself. And other things. With the exception of buying useless ugly clothes despite our protests, MIL actually listens to the things we ask her to do when she watches Raelynn. I might despise her cooking and she certainly grates on my nerves daily but I have to give her credit for this. She even tells her husband when he's being nuts. A couple weeks ago, Raelynn was sitting on her little potty. It was warm inside the house but her legs were bare because she'd pulled down her pants to sit on the potty. FIL freaked out and got his jacket to put on her legs. Raelynn refused the jacket and to my great surprise, MIL told him to stop it because it was not cold in the house. I turned to her and thanked her for that one. See? She is the more sensible one. Just not by too terribly much.

So to FIL I say...

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.

MIL.
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.

FIL.
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.

Snoring.
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!

Kill, Kill, Kill...

Sometimes I wonder if my husband's parents even have brains in their heads or if it's just filled with dust bunnies...the kind you'd find under your couch. Except more, because, well, they're total idiots. And sometimes I wonder if my husband forgets that I am pregnant and don't need added stress. It is a good thing guns are not legal in this country because I've had to restrain myself this entire evening from trying to fillet the 3 of them. His parents more so than him.

I was getting ready to cook dinner when the door opened and guess what hideous beast crossed the threshold before I could slam and lock the door? Yes, the head troll. She said she'd come to make wontons for Raelynn and I wanted to punch her in the throat. Because I, the pregnant person, should not ever be permitted to eat something that remotely fucking resembles food. Usually, I love her wontons. But when she serves them so often, they lose their deliciousness in my eyes.

She shuffles around my kitchen and now she's in my way. How am I to make something that sounds appealing to me? Or make something normal for my daughter who is finally getting her appetite back on the tail-end of the illness she caught? Oh but no. Fatass is in my way in the kitchen with no plans to move. It's then that I completely lose my appetite.

I text my husband and let him know that now I am severely depressed. After all, he was the one who told me they wouldn't be coming for dinner tonight and I could make something I wanted for dinner. Fortunately, he arrived home soon after, while the head troll was stinking up my kitchen. He said he didn't know they'd be coming for dinner today. He went to the kitchen to talk to her and she said her heart was breaking because all she wanted to do was cook for Raelynn. YOUR heart is breaking?!? FUCK YOU. I just want some fucking peace and quiet on a weeknight without you barging into my crappy-ass kitchen to make us food we don't want to eat.

It is at this exact moment that I completely lose my mind. Gone. Buh-bye. My husband then realizes that this is making me insane and tries to soothe me. He tells me because Raelynn is sick, his mom wants to help and that she'll back off for a few days. Except not really. Tomorrow she'll come feed Raelynn soup because I am too stupid to do this myself. I mean really. I loathe this woman right now.

My husband did save the day by bringing a duck home for dinner so at least I had something I wanted to eat. But I couldn't eat much of it. And then, after eating, my FIL tells my husband that he wants to take Raelynn to buy some fruit. It is 7:15 at this point and I'm seething. NO. I put my foot down about it but my husband just lifted it up and let them go, saying they would be back in 15 minutes. 15 minutes go by. 20. 30. 40. And I begin to scream and cry, convinced that she's been stolen away by thieves in the night or that my moron FIL has let her get hit by a car or something horrid. I can barely breathe. I demanded of my husband to find my daughter NOW.

That was agonizing, waiting and wondering what the fuck was going on. 10 minutes later, I heard my precious daughter in the stairs leading up to our apartment. I flung open the door and hugged and kissed her like crazy. Now it's after 8pm, when she's normally in bed. And this kid needs a bath. By the way, she's still recovering from being sick. What a splendidly brilliant idea to take a child who has had a fever off and on for days out into the night. To buy fruit. We have a giant watermelon! And a shit-ton of mangoes. Asshole. Because THAT won't make her more sick. Oh no. Blame ME for not putting a blanket on her while she was fucking napping in 3 layers of clothes on the sofa. Go ahead.

And do you think my husband will even say, "Hey Dad, that was not very cool what you did"? No! He doesn't seem bothered by this. Right now, I am fighting the urge to beat the living shit out of all 3 of them. I think most people would say I'm justified for doing so. My husband singing happy songs while in the bathroom just clinches it for me.

I fucking hate everybody right now.

The Arrangement

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know that I like to spend as little time as possible with my in-laws. And if you're new, now you know and you can go browsing though my archives to see 1,000,000 examples of WHY. It's not that I hate them. It's just that the less time I spend with them, the easier it is for me to find something I like about them and the more likely it is that they won't wind up doing something to annoy me.

But now, we've come to an agreement and an arrangement as been made.

The other day, I told you about Surly the Bus Driver. Who has incidentally changed his tune. Now he no longer complains because he discovered my husband is Chinese. That's because one of my in-laws has been waiting by the bus drop-off for Raelynn and me every day this week. On Monday, it was MIL. And it was the first time EVER that I was happy to see that woman. I am now officially hitting the 5-month mark on this pregnancy and as I started down the steep bus stairs with my bag, Raelynn's bag and Raelynn, I realized it was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I also realized, as we walked along, that to carry her up the small hill that leads up to our street, then down our street to our building and finally, up 6 flights of stairs, was now impossible for me. I needed help.

On Tuesday, FIL was there. He helped me get Raelynn upstairs and played with her for a short while, then he was on his way. On Wednesday, we had to have dinner with them, but they came and helped me get off the bus with Raelynn. She somehow stayed asleep as we carried her off the bus, down the street and up the stairs. She desperately needed that nap and she would have totally woken up had my pregnant-ass been stuck struggling down the street with her.

At dinner last night, we made a deal. The arrangement. They would come help me at the bus stop and carry Raelynn home for me. But only on some afternoons would they stick around to spend time with her. And now, all of us are happy. I won't injure myself, Raelynn or the new baby, and they get to see her 5 days a week, even if just for a couple minutes on some of those days. It makes me, dare I say it, like them just a bit more.

Oh now don't worry. There will still be many more crazy in-law stories to come. There are too many differences between us for there NOT to be some wacky-ass crap happening around here. Like on Wednesday when FIL started to panic because I gave Raelynn a glass of cold orange juice. Because Chinese people think you should drink only hot things. I pointed out to him that milk is refrigerated and everyone drinks that cold or else they'll become ill from drinking spoiled milk. He had no rebuttal there. I also reminded him that in my country, we drink both hot and cold beverages and my people are just fine. I hate hate HATE drinking hot water here. I love hot tea and hot coffee. And hot chocolate (who doesn't?). But I'm not going to drink a plain glass of hot water. Blah! Or heat up my juice. That's just crazy, man.

The Idiocracy Continues

Not to be outdone by his wife's defiling of my kitchen items, my FIL has done something so idiotic, you'd think it was the plot of some sitcom. What I am about to tell you is exactly how it was relayed to me from my husband who had been told about this by his parents.

According to Jeremy:
"My mom went to the market down the street to get some food to make so my dad stayed with Raelynn. He told Raelynn he was tired. So Raelynn told him to go ahead and take a nap. My dad listened to Raelynn and took a nap. He woke up a little while after and discovered she had chocolate all over her face. While he slept, she got into the kitchen, opened up the cabinet and stole the box of chocolates from there."

I'll tell you why this is disturbing:
1) FIL actually LISTENED to Raelynn's suggestion to take a nap. She is 2 1/2. YOU'RE THE ADULT! Wait until she naps, then you can nap, dumbass!
2) We have a door to our kitchen which we shut and lock when we're busy or roll over to go back to sleep on Saturdays and Sundays. We do this because she can get into anything in there, from the dishes to the chocolates. She long ago figured out our child-safety locks too so I fear she'll open up the cabinet under the sink and play with the cleaning products. He neglected to shut this door, obviously.
3) MIL looks like the more sensible of the two of them now, huh? Then again, she was the genius who left him in charge. But how could she know that her grandchild would convince her grandfather to sleep so she could make off with chocolates?

I'll end with a photo of Raelynn with a chocolatey face from another time she got to enjoy chocolate (with permission from us though):

Also, I would just like to add that MIL is the unfashionista who decided to put a collared shirt with this kitty sweatshirt. At least she used a matching color though, but it still clashes in styling.

Make Room At The Louvre!

FIL's abstract art project that I wrote about yesterday is finished! Already! 11 days until Christmas and I honestly thought his little collage-thing would take him longer. Then again, that's pretty silly of me since this is a man who uses package tape to secure things to walls (see exhibits A and B).

I must tell you that it's absolutely breathtaking. Yes, that's right. As soon as I saw it, it literally took my breath away!

After my husband and I arrived home today, and after the head troll went off to resume her post under whatever bridge it is she crawled out from under, I was washing my hands in the bathroom before picking up Raelynn. My husband came in to wash his hands too. We were talking about something, which I can't even recall what we were discussing because FIL's art suddenly caught my eye.

"What the..." I say, trailing off.
"What the what?" asks my husband. And then his eyes follow mine and fixate on this with me:

Oh. GOD! Soccer?!?!?!? WHYYYYYYYYY?!?!? Urgh!!!!

My husband looooooooooooooooooooooves soccer. He will set an alarm for 3am on a work night just to catch some dumb game that's happening in Latin America. He played soccer in college and he found some guys his age around here that play soccer for fun on weekends. I am so happy that he loves soccer. But I don't. And to me, this is okay because I know there are plenty of things I like that he can't wrap his head around either, such as my adoration for word games like Words With Friends or my fascination with handbags.

But even Jeremy burst into hysterical laughter with me as we gawked at this eyesore. It's hard to tell from the photo, but this is a collage of soccer moments from a magazine page. He didn't make the collage himself. He did, however, rip a page out of some soccer magazine which he (and MIL) couldn't have been bothered with picking up off our fucking living room floor today. He only taped the edges to the wall, this time using a clear package tape. Oooh! How fancy! It is now completely obvious, to me at least, that FIL has no idea that water destroys paper.

That's not what mystifies me in all this. I live here too. This is MY house. Why are these morons messing up the things Jeremy and I have set up to our liking? Why in the world would FIL even think I would want a piece of paper with soccer players on it in my bathroom?!? It makes me think of when my brother lived in Moscow and he told me how the bathroom in his apartment had been decorated with stickers from the previous tenant in an order like this: car, lady, truck, lady, truck, lady, lady, car, lady, etc.

Now I'm almost afraid to ask what's next. I'll have to go digging through Pinterest to see if there's some sort of craft that can cover this disaster up in a practical (and pretty!) way.

More In-Law Abstract Art

Just yesterday, I was marveling at the bounty of gifts bestowed upon us by my in-laws. Ironically, at the end of that post, I wondered what other surprises we would find in the remaining days before Christmas. Well, I didn't have to wait long! Now FIL seems to fancy himself an abstract artist as well. I guess he wasn't done just taping our towel rack to a piece of wood and then taping it to the wall where it had fallen off. Silly me! I should have KNOWN it was a masterpiece in progress.

Shall we venture into the bathroom for a look? Come along now!

Hey Jenn, what is it we're looking at, you ask? Why, it's a picture from a magazine! It says "Marina City" which is one of the nice malls here, but my flash makes it hard to read. I have absolutely no earthly idea why he did this. It is just paper from a magazine. It is not laminated. It is not fitted onto something sturdier. IT IS JUST PAPER. You should also be aware that, being in Asia, this is a typical Asian-style bathroom. There is no shower stall. You just shower in the middle of the bathroom. Everything gets wet, though when you're cleaning, it is pretty handy. That being said, how he thought this would be a nice touch is beyond me, especially when it would get wet during the next shower.

Perhaps, since their views on hygiene are vastly different than mine, they didn't think about this being a problem. Or perhaps, this is a work in progress. I say this because I also found these sitting on top of the washer:

These 3 pictures were also cut out of a magazine. One has 4 ships; another has some sort of Chinese-style building. My favorite (and yours too) is the thing that looks like the I'm Just a Bill from Schoolhouse Rock after splicing it with a penis. I am not quite sure what he is planning to do with these pictures...a cheap collage of sorts? Your guess is as good as mine.

So you tell me...what do you think FIL was doing with these things? And do you think he'll finish what he started? Let me know in the comments or on Facebook. I'd love to hear what you all think. I'll keep a keen eye out tomorrow to see if we have any more interesting artwork sprout up. Stay tuned!

Christmas Comes Early In The Qu House!

Our tiny little tree, which is actually on top of a table to prevent Raelynn from mutilating it and pillaging all the ornaments.


How I love this time of year! The freezing cold weather (despite the lack of snowfall so far this winter, and I don't count the ever-so-slight dusting of snow that consisted of about 10 flakes falling down on the tops of a few cars that line my street snowing, just so you know). Snow boots (even when there is no snow). Big, fluffy sweaters. Hot chocolate. Holidays. And presents! Who could forget the presents?

Even though they don't celebrate Christmas, my in-laws have kindly gotten into the spirit of gift-giving. And early too. And bitchy ol' me, I just complain about these two nimrods! Shame on me. Today, when I came home from work, I found the following lovely presents waiting for us...

First up, some more handiwork by my FIL. Allow me to first explain that a few days ago, our shitty towel rack came off the bathroom wall. I noticed it when I'd come home and figured MIL gnawed it off with her crackly teeth, but my husband said he was the one to blame (though I honestly think he told me that so I wouldn't scowl at her even more than usual). Well, before Jeremy even had a chance to call the one repair guy who actually does a good job fixing things (the guy who finally fixed the kitchen sink) or allow us to pick out one that didn't look like crap in the first place, FIL took the liberty of "repairing" it himself:

Why, yes! That IS package tape on there! Back in the USA, Tommy Peek is shaking his head back and forth, lamenting over the lack of use of duct tape. But here, oh yes. FIL has taped the bar to some old wood and then taped that old wood to the wall. Isn't it lovely? Here is a closer look:

You can see where the screws were originally drilled into the wall before this hideous bar fell off the wall.  

Here is the other end of the towel rack. That one part stayed in the wall just fine, but FIL wanted to make it match I guess, so he taped it too. I think he has a thing for package tape. Just check out some of his other projects here.

Next up, some gifts from the jolly old troll, MIL!

No joke, this is what my living room looked like when I got home today:

I want you to know that this is not how it looked when I left for work. Maybe she felt it just wasn't festive enough, what with the books actually being on shelves and all and garbage being in the garbage can.

Maybe she felt the chairs looked so much better assembled in this fashion. Books on the floor are the new throw rug, y'all! And dig on the plastic bag on my husband's desk (which I hate that he moved to this location but that's another story), within perfect reach for Raelynn! Wow, she remembered a toy for Raelynn too with a new plastic bag. MIL truly thinks of everything, doesn't she?

More of the mess, which just includes a better look at the table. There are used tissues on there as well as the table top for the high chair, which was dirty. Also, my coffee cup from breakfast is STILL there. Because a sip of cold coffee that has been sitting out all day long is exactly what I want when I come home from work! How did she ever know?!?

I know she went to great lengths to make this detailed of a mess for us, but it just isn't our style. It took me about 10 minutes to pick all this stuff up. I wonder how long it took for her to enact her lazy, room-wide abstract art project. Anyway, here is our living room/dining area just 10 minutes later, once I restored order:

Ah yes. MUCH better! Even Raelynn is impressed with the quickie clean up.

Don't feel too badly that I destroyed MIL's thoughtful gift of redecorating, because she is such a giver. She also gave us the gift of nearly breaking the satellite (not pictured) and tried to pass the blame to Raelynn. Someone unscrewed the cable from the box. I know Raelynn is sneaky and all, believe me, but even she couldn't have been that skilled. If she had, it makes me wonder if anyone is actually watching her, or if they just let her run amok and destroy anything in her path.

So, what's better than almost crippling our connection to quality programming?
GREEN ONIONS!

But it's not the green onions themselves that are special. It is WHERE MIL stored them for us. We shouldn't be surprised, given her history of not putting food items into the refrigerator. They weren't in the cabinets either, which, at this time of year, I wouldn't complain because it is freezing in our kitchen (it's the only room without a radiator). Much thanks to my keen-eyed husband who was kindly making dinner so I could have a break, both for the cooking and for pointing this out:

Hello, green onions, hanging out on the window box outside the kitchen! Still covered in dirt which probably doesn't matter since you're enjoying all the not-so-fresh air fumes of China. Mmmm...pollution-flavored vegetables! 

Here is another shot of the green onions, along with our poor dead plant. You can also see the craptacular courtyard below. Please take note that there is no snow there STILL.

With 13 days left before Christmas, I'm left to wonder what other surprises the in-laws have in store for us. More ugly clothes for the baby? Dear God, please just let her uproot my living room and call it a day instead!

DIY FIL

My  FIL can sometimes be a very handy guy. Emphasis on the SOMETIMES. He's successfully repaired some things around our home. Like the light in the bathroom. Or the laundry rack (which I had MacGyvered with some package tape, though my friend Tommy Peek would likely say my fault was in not using duct tape as the package tape didn't hold). Or the window screens. Or the dresser drawers. Yes, he's fixed quite a few things and I've certainly appreciated it.

But today just wasn't his day for do-it-yourself handiwork apparently.

Yesterday, Jeremy and I noticed the cable connecting the satellite box to the satellite was sticking out from the wall. The satellite was coming in fine but the only explanation for the cord jutting out from the wall in such a fashion was the baby. Raelynn is now quite mobile. If she's not sleeping or in the playpen, you HAVE TO be right there with her to make sure she doesn't touch something dangerous or make a mess. It's not her fault. She's a baby. To her, EVERYTHING is her toy. EVERYTHING is something to eat. And EVERYTHING belongs to her. Of course! So while we were at work, the stupids must have been too slow in stopping her from yanking it up from the wall. All last night until I put her to bed, she kept going back over to the cable and trying to pull on it. My husband told me he would fix it tomorrow.

And now that it is tomorrow, which means it's today, I should have known that Jeremy meant that he'd have his father do the fixing when he said what he said. Even under that assumption, I am still perplexed by FIL's home improvement. Or rather, home unimprovement. Take a look...

Here you can see the cable, which runs from the TV (not in the frame but to the right) through our bedroom to the connecting satellite outside. The cord ran along the baseboard and up the crevice between the wall and door. I thought that my husband would simply run it back along there again and secure it with pins this time. But instead, my FIL, bless his heart, tried to be helpful and this is what we get. He has taken that piece of wood, which is actually a door to a cabinet in Raelynn's room that I have been pleading with anyone who will listen to put back on the cabinet where it belongs, and he has TAPED it to the wall. No fucking joke. Here's a closer look:

Do you see the fucking tape? DO YOU?!? Tape didn't stop Raelynn from ripping a cable off the wall so do you think tape will stop her from yanking a plank of wood from the wall? She's one strong baby. This won't stop her. She'll get around to destroying it, if it lasts that long. Jeremy promised me he'd have a talk with his father about this. Not only is it ugly but it also isn't very effective.

And here is the cabinet in Raelynn's room where that piece of wood is missing from. Yeah. Nice try, FIL. But you have plenty of room for improvement in the field of home improvement!