Get To Your Place

When I was a little girl, we had a dachshund named Snoopy. Actually, my dad will tell you his real name was Maximallian or some crap like that but my brother, Phillip, influenced the change to Snoopy. He was a great dog. He even saved me from the neighbor's evil doberman when it'd gotten loose. But even great dogs are sometimes naughty. And when Snoopy was a bad dog, we always told him to "get to your place!" Or "GET!" for short. I need to start saying this to MIL.

If you remember the giant blowout at the end of last week, then you'll know that to avoid any further altercations, I've been requested to pick out Raelynn's outfits the night before her outings with the invalids. Which I did. But of course, MIL went back on her word. Last night, it was muggy when I picked out the clothes. I picked a Hello Kitty t-shirt and pink shorts. Well, apparently this wasn't warm enough attire for this morning. She put her in a pink polo shirt and black polka dot pants. It actually looked okay enough, I suppose, though I have always kind of despised polka dots. But these pants I didn't mind because the dots are quite small and the style of the pants is actually more akin to leggings. In colder weather, I always pair them with a red, black and white ladybug dress that's become a bit too short but with these leggings-like pants, looks fabulous.

I'm not angry with MIL because the weather changed. I'm angry because that old bag, despite changing her into this other outfit, bought Raelynn even more pants. More polka dot pants! 2 of the same pair! And they're not any thicker or better than the 20 other pairs of fucking pants this child has.

Of course MIL thinks this shit will go with everyfuckingthing. She's ALWAYS wearing her vomitous polka dot pants. I have photos of her wearing them in this post, if you want to see.

Polka dots are not my style, but when done right, or paired with the right things, they can look really smart. MIL just throws polka dots with anything she sees. Or flowers.

I complained to Jeremy who was as aggravated as I was. He actually told someone at church yesterday that he couldn't wait to move away from his parents because they interfere in everything we ever do and contribute to Raelynn's bad behavior all the time. I hope we can escape before Seoul gets too big to be influenced by those neanderthals.

Speaking of Seoul, all her clothes are hand-me-downs (except for one thing my friend Natalie sent - thanks again, girl! xoxo) and all the pants she has available to her as the weather starts cooling down are bigger. Why didn't MIL buy her some pants? No, she HAS TO buy more pants for Raelynn because a closet full of them is just not enough. She has to constantly butt in and push our limits. You're not the boss of us, bitch. Watch your fat, old ass.

I'm angry that my husband specifically told his parents not to do something and they deliberately disregarded it. And that we came to an agreement about having me pick out Raelynn's outfits in advance and she just pushes and manipulates until she gets her way. I asked Jeremy if he could help me make a sign in Chinese that says "Get the fuck out of this closet and go fuck yourself," but he wouldn't let me. He didn't get mad like he usually does when I suggest these things though so I'm thinking he was quite tempted to put the sign up himself. He DID do that to a big refrigerator box someone left in our stairwell for a week though. Like the bike that took up space, it sat there on the landing between our floor (6th) and the 5th floor. A closer look at the box would reveal it had been for apartment 801. So those lazy assholes just dragged it down a few floors and left it. I can't be sure exactly what he wrote on there but I hope he dropped a few Chinese f-bombs in there. When the box still hadn't moved, he kicked the crap out of it and launched it down to the 5th floor landing, spilling out packing foam all over the stairs. That finally did the trick because when we came back, the box, the foam and the angry Chinese note from my husband were all gone.

I was really agitated by all this earlier this morning, but Jeremy reminded me that soon, Raelynn and I will go back to school and MIL won't be able to dress her like a street person anymore. We'll just have to worry about Seoul. And he's given his word that if his parents do not keep things sanitary and put her in any danger, that he will do something about it. I hope so because if not, I'll have to maim them with my bare hands. Or use these pants and the other fugly shit she's ever bought to tie them up and kick them down the stairs as I yell "GET!!!!"

The Jig Is Up!

Ok, MIL. You're a pushy old cow who loves to ruin my dinner time but I've got you now. Today, I discovered your secret stash. Nice fucking try, by the way. I would tell my husband what you've done but he'll just make me put your little homely couture back where I found it. Not a fucking chance now. I'm shoving these into the vortex with the rest of your unwanted crap. Like this shit, for example.

I remember this stupid vest jacket. You know why? That's because 1) it is several sizes too large. In fact it is for a child of 5 or 6, according to the English on the tag inside and 2) it's for a boy. It is a boy's vest jacket. Raelynn has plenty of jackets for colder the colder months. She does not need to be walking around looking like a red Stay Puft marshmallow child, thank you. I told this to MIL a while back and she snuck it back in here. More reasons to hate this woman.

 Oh, look! ANOTHER jacket! This one is a girl's jacket, thankfully, but WE HAVE JACKETS FOR OUR CHILD! She has lots of jackets and lots of warm clothes for when the weather is cold. Why you feel the need to keep buying her stupid things is beyond me. The thing about this jacket is that it's not too horrible in style, except for the ugly little faces on it. Take a closer look...

 Is it a monkey grandma with a hat? What the fuck is it supposed to be anyway? I hate you, MIL.

 How about faux Paul Frink pants? Boy style at that. Oh yes, please.

 It says "Pant Sfine" on the back. Do they mean "Pants Fine?" Because if they do, I've got news for them: these pants are so not fine. MIL, please go give these kinds of things to the idiot people in our neighborhood with fat ugly boys. Please.

 Now this would have been fine if not for my nemesis, this stupid fucking cutesy-wutesy asshole bear. FUCK YOU BEAR! And you too, MIL!

 Stop looking at me, Bear.

And guess who else I found bundled into this hidden medley of vomitous clothing? Yes, that's right! These disgusting pants that I told her I wanted removed immediately from my sight. That bitch hid all these things in a blocked off cabinet in Raelynn's room. I found it when I was cleaning and organizing, trying to make room for places to put stuff for the baby. I can't wait until this stupid old goat goes in there this winter and finds her crap has been removed. And I'll play dumb of course because that is the only way to play with stupid people like her.

History Repeats Itself

Just over 3 years ago, I was heavily pregnant with Raelynn and deep in the nesting phase of my pregnancy. It was after one massive scrubbing spree that I decided to document MIL's mess-making ways and, at the urging of many family and friends, turned it into a blog. You can see that post here.

And now it seems, after all this time and all this hard work, history is repeating itself once more, as I try to enjoy the beginning of my maternity leave, prepare for the new baby and spend time with my toddler. It's time to play another round of let's severely piss off the 9-month pregnant woman from Miami, apparently. My husband said that today, his mother would come and cook dinner for Raelynn. I could make what I wanted but she was coming over. Oh good. Because I love cleaning the house just so she can ruin it with greasy messes and other awfulness. Fabulous. Because I imagined the next 25 or so days to be filled with me cleaning up after all of you. How did you ever know? Grrrr...

Anyway, fear not because Jeremy and his family realized they were making a pregnant woman go insane and this time, stopped before she teetered right over the edge. I was promised my kitchen would be restored to the way it looked right after I finished cleaning, disinfecting and polishing everything in there by my husband and he took my maniacal stare quite seriously because he did one fuck of a job up in there. I was even granted reprieve from my in-laws until I ask them to come help or give me a break. And that, my friends, is all I really wanted in the first place. Time to myself without being bombarded with idiots. Because soon enough, I'll need all hands on deck up in here.

For now though, we can enjoy these lovely photos of my clean home and smile at all the changes in my home from that one post to now...

 Our bedroom, neat and tidy. Ahhhh. Not that MIL is to blame for messes in here. No, no. That is my husband's fault entirely. After the look I gave him earlier, I don't think he'll be crazy enough to make a mess in here for a while.

Our room from the other end. Gotta love the laundry drying rack. And yes, I cleaned our floor rugs too. Some people (coughcouchJeremyandhisparentscoughcough) track in so much dirt by not wiping their feet well enough on the entry rug. Sure, go ahead and wipe your feet on my bath mat. I looooooooooooooove getting out of the shower with nice, clean feet only to wipe them on a dirty mat. Thank you!

Living room is clean save for some of Raelynn's toys. She's at least got them confined to the area rug. If you have small children you know it's about impossible to keep everything off the floor. I pick my battles.

More of the living room/dining area.

More of Raelynn cutely eating a snack.

Raelynn's room which, hopefully, this weekend will get a big girl bed in it. Please don't ask why the fuck this is taking so long. I started that journey months ago but no. My in-laws wanted to butt in afuckinggain and apparently FIL has been modifying a twin bed at their home with some sort of frame on the side to keep Raelynn from falling out. I can't even wait to see what kind of fucked up mess this will be. He probably used tape, like he did when he tried to fix that satellite cable to the wall. You know I'll be blogging about this bed when it comes. Which better be this weekend. Because I threw an absolute shit-fit about it. And I should. Because this baby is due in a few more weeks and I need to get our big girl adjusted to her new bed. 

 She may have made a mess with toys on the rug but she kept her room tidy. Thank you, Raelynn! Good girl!

A view across the apartment.

And now, my kitchen, restored to full order. Do you know how long it took me to clean the crud that woman got all over our stove? Go on. Guess. Just guess. Because never have I ever had to work so hard to clean something in my life. 30 minutes. It took me 30 minutes. I did not continuously scrub it for that duration but I had to keep spraying it, scrubbing, then spraying again and coming back to scrub it. She is SO gross. Gah!

 More kitchen, more shiny clean disinfected floors! Yay!

Everything on the shelf is organized as well. It gets messy and crazy up there thanks to my husband. I will have to hurt him if he fucks it up again.

 Sink is freshly scrubbed and looking good!

 Yes, see this, sweet husband? This is how our kitchen should always look. Let's refrain from leaving food out on my clean counters. Or garbage. Or both.

 When it's clean like this, you can see all the counter space we've got. It's so peaceful.

 Ugly Chinese-style bathroom is now very clean too. You can' tell very well from this photo but I assure you this is the best it gets when it's clean. God, I miss US bathrooms.

Front entry after mopping, while rugs were hanging to dry.

 I had to marvel at this because I feared too soon, piles of stinky shoes from my husband and his parents would clog this area up, making it a minefield of crusty crappiness.

 Be it ever so humble, our shitty dining table. Wiped down and surrounded by bleach-scrubbed floors. Ahhhh...

 Now the rugs are dry and back in place. Don't step on that gray one on the left side of the photo with your shoes or I'll cut you!

Oh Raelynn. Mommy will give you a cookie if you get your shit off the floor.

 Ack! Look what's here! Run Raelynn! Run! There's a troll in our clean kitchen! Counter space on the right side vanishing, vanishing! Eyes burning, burning from the sight of those vile pants. Eeyyyyyyyyyyahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 Mommy, what is wrong with Grandma's pants? They're so ugly!

Seriously. See those pants. WTF. 

 I'll end here with Raelynn laughing at the pants. Ok, she's not laughing at the pants so much as she's laughing at me retching over those pants, but close enough.

Please Cease And Desist

I desperately need to send a cease and desist letter to my in-laws. Tomorrow is my last day of vacation and those 2 troglodytes keep popping up like a bad rash, interrupting my last moments of relaxation before I go back to work. I know they want to see Raelynn, but it's not like they won't get to spend all of Wednesday and Thursday with her while me and the other teachers suffer through our teacher workdays.

This morning, our land line rang. It was FIL. He said he wanted to come over to bring Raelynn some balloons to make her happy. Yesterday, during the great shopping adventure, my husband had bought Raelynn a big, shiny helium balloon. It was a pink unicorn, just like the balloon we bought her a couple weeks ago.

It had actually lasted a while before it deflated and now we fear throwing it away because of what happened yesterday.

I kept telling her to hold the balloon tightly. I tried to wrap it around her wrist but she wouldn't allow it. She is SO stubborn sometimes! Gah! We somehow managed to get her and the balloon into the car and off we went. When we went to get out of the car, Raelynn insisted on holding her balloon, and again, wouldn't listen to me. So it came as no surprise when she let go and it started to blow away in the wind. I tried to catch it but up, up, up it went. I wanted to cry too. Stupid pregnancy hormones. Raelynn was very upset about the balloon getting away, but she learned her lesson because she keeps telling me next time she'll listen to Mommy and hold on tight to her balloon.

Anyway, last night, my in-laws had stopped by to annoy us see what coat we got in exchange for the ugly yellow one and bring us some snacks from Taiwan that another family member had brought back for us. And that's when Raelynn told her grandparents about the balloon that got away.

So how could I refuse FIL coming over with some balloons for Raelynn? It was sweet. Granted, he didn't go get her a helium-filled balloon (he just brought some plain old party balloons and blew them up himself) but it was still nice nonetheless. He didn't stay long either and that was just fine by me.

Tonight, I made a fabulous eggplant parmigiana and a cucumber dill salad. We were happily digging into it, talking about how the day had been for each of us when the land line rang. It was MIL. She gave us THE lamest excuse ever for wanting to come over and invade our privacy. Are you ready?

And the award for the lamest excuse in the universe goes to MIL for this gem:
I made too many dumplings and now I need to bring the rest of them over to you.

PUH-LEASE! OMG! Just. Stop. STOP IT. We don't need your crappy-ass dumplings. We've got my classic eggplant parmigiana and it kicks your dumplings' asses. Jeremy kept telling her we were almost done eating but she invited herself over anyway. Cow.

So she gets here with her stupid dumplings, which were the oyster ones AFUCKINGGAIN incidentally. And she also trots out this terrible, insanely oversized thing for Raelynn...

She smiles triumphantly, like she's finally picked something we won't despise. Immediately, Raelynn screams she doesn't like it. At least she has some sense. This is definitely much better than many things MIL has chosen in the garment category but this cheap, frilly thing around the collar makes me stabby. It looks like cheap hospital gauze. I hate hate HATE when people, especially MIL, pick out old-lady-style clothes for little girls. HATE!

Here is a closer look at that gauche gauzey thing around the collar and that old-lady doily trim. As if this isn't enough to make you barf up your intestines, it's about 5 sizes too large, just like the ugly coat we had to exchange. *facepalm*

The good news is that Jeremy is in full agreement with me that this thing should be shoved into the vortex of ugly clothes with this, this and this. When she does things like this, it is exactly why I cannot stand her. She is so pushy and interfering. That being said, she should take this damn thing back and wear it herself. It's closer to her size and it looks like it would suit her perfectly.

Let's hope my last day of vacation is in-law-free!

MIL Confuses Pea Coat With Pee Coat

Oh MIL! You had to break the streak with a bang, now didn't you?

I'm happy to report that MIL is feeling better. So much better that she did a little shopping. Sigh. When will she learn to leave the fashion up to me?

Today, I'd gone out for a couple hours to meet at Redstar magazine to discuss articles for the upcoming issue. I'm excited to be doing some freelance for them and build my portfolio while abroad. So I had my in-laws come and watch Raelynn. Since we hadn't seen MIL in a while, Jeremy had suggested we have dinner with them and I agreed to it just to get it out of the way. It turned out to be a blessing since I had THE worst migraine come on and I totally didn't feel like cooking when I got home.

My FIL, the hero, went for a walk while MIL cooked. He stopped by their house and brought a bag that MIL was so excited to show us. What was inside?

This. THIS! This drab, yellow Stay Puft peed-on marshmallow coat. She must have mistaken a pea coat for this pee coat. Raelynn didn't like it either. She screamed when MIL put it on her and said, "No! Don't like!" Good girl! Perhaps in another color it wouldn't be so atrocious. It just looks like something an ugly boy would wear. Also, it's hard to tell from the photo but this coat is enormous. I've no idea why she bought her a new coat that is 5 sizes too large when winter will soon be over.

Incidentally, Raelynn has a purple coat that she loves. That still fits her just fine, I might add.

But that's MIL for you. Always buying something ugly and useless. If there were a show where contestants had to find these kinds of things, MIL would win. Hands down.

Let's get up close and look at the pattern of cracked out rabbits, shall we? I wish it made me think more of Rabbids Invasion but, sadly, it does not. I just think of pee. With rabbits.

Thankfully, MIL left the tags on it so we can exchange it. So she's FINALLY learning that if we don't like something, we shove it into the vortex of ugly clothing, never to be seen again. We told her we'd like to get it in a slightly smaller size and a different color, perhaps a color Raelynn actually likes, like pink, purple or red.

By the way, do you see the price on this thing? 769 rmb. For a child's coat. My husband says they got it discounted at 400 rmb but still! We bought Raelynn's purple coat on sale for 200 rmb. My coat that I bought nearly 3 years ago was 500 rmb. Honey, time to buy your sweet wifey a new coat please! Just make sure it is more like a pea coat. Not a pee coat.

Fugly Or Fashionable? You Decide!

Ok, everyone. I need your help. A couple days ago, my husband came home with a gift for me from his boss.

It's a scarf. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's satiny and has a different flower pattern on each side. The first part of me thought, "How old does Jeremy's boss think I am?" Because I get a big old lady vibe from this. But another part of me wonders if I'm just an idiot when it comes to scarf fashions. After all, I was born and raised in South Florida. We don't do scarves there. 

So without further ado, here's one side of the scarf, with a close-up of the pattern beneath it...

And now, here's the other side of the scarf, with a close-up of that pattern beneath it as well...

And just for fun, here's both patterns together...

So, is it fugly or fashionable? And if it IS indeed fashionable, should I try pulling it off? I don't think I'm the satiny-flowey-scarfy kind of gal. Then again, all that's in my immediate fashion future are lots and lots of maternity clothes.

I'm leaning toward giving it to MIL. Would you keep it or regift it? Let me know!

More Dresses From The Dump

Ahhhh, summer vacation! Finally, 5 weeks of freedom from kindergarten, which I will spend the majority of hiding in the chilled confines of my A/C-filled apartment with my screamy toddler, is here. No teaching, extra time with Raelynn...AND no MIL. Most of the time, anyway. My husband has invited his parents over for dinner tonight. And they'll have some opportunity to spend time with Raelynn when I want to meet up with friends or have a date with my husband that doesn't involve tantrums and incessant interruptions.

Summer. My chance to dress Raelynn the way I want to dress her without some old troll redressing her into a rag from the donations bin while I'm away. Speaking of rags, remember that one rag that "disappeared?" Jeremy asked me if I'd seen a white skirt. I'm sorry, but that is barely white. And it's no skirt. Not that either one of them would know that. I can't blame my husband...he's a man. What does it matter if he confuses dresses and skirts? Now, MIL on the other hand SHOULD know these things. But she doesn't. Of course, you shouldn't be surprised. Anyway, I played dumb, which I feel horrible about. But I'm tired of things going like this:
Me: "Your mother brought over some horrible rag to dress Raelynn in. She looks like a mutant."
Him: "She's old. And she's not a mutant."
Me: "No, Raelynn looks like the mutant in that rag. Your mom is...something else."
Him: "My parents do so many things for our family. You just don't appreciate them."
Me: "What does that have to do with this? And what does them being old have to do with anything anyway?"

And on and on and ON it goes until I want to scream and flail my arms as I run down the street. I don't think the Chinese people in this neighborhood could possibly stare at me more than they already do though. I love my husband dearly but I absolutely hate it when he just doesn't have my back. It's always his parents' needs and wants. Though he did put his foot down when they wanted to live with us when Raelynn was born, and for that I am eternally thankful.

So forgive me, dear husband, that I pretended not to know where that one rag was. I knew. I just let it hang out under the crib for a week until my vacation so I could wash it myself and then hide it in the closet. Then Raelynn might only get stuck wearing it once or twice more before the fall weather starts and with any luck, she'll have totally outgrown it by next summer (or MIL will forget all about it when I move the summer stuff into our storage bags so we have more room for the winter stuff).

MIL obviously isn't too upset over that rag. Because during my last week of school, I came home to find Raelynn dressed in this:

This is actually MUCH better than the rag that I made vanish temporarily. I want to like it. Really. I do. I almost like it. What's my problem with it? Well, it looks a bit worn, doesn't it? This is after I washed it and hung it to dry so it looks much nicer than when I first saw it. But it looks like it has been washed a lot because it has those little balls of fuzz on the white knit part of it.

Also, it says something in rhinestones which I could do without, honestly. I can't even figure out what it says. It's missing some rhinestones. I know MIL didn't just buy this thing. She either dug it out of the trash, stole it off another child or, based on the other raggy dress, I really suspect she had this and the other dress last summer and kept them at her house. Then when she'd take Raelynn over to her smelly, non-air-conditioned home, she'd throw her in one of these things. Knowing MIL, it makes a ton of sense.

 Can you figure out what this says? Me neither!

 All that aside, THIS is my major problem with this dress. You'll notice it has a zipper part on the side which is unzipped but it doesn't go to the edge of the fabric. The edge of the fabric is TORN. And frayed. It looks shitty. I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but someone took a few stitches to it in an off-colored thread which only adds to the demise of what was once a cute little dress.

 Maybe you can see that in these 2 shots as well...

You know what's extra annoying about this? MIL CAN SEW. She can sew very well, actually. I can put buttons back on and fix split seams but I'm no seamstress. I've no idea why MIL would not repair this as expertly as I've seen her repair other things. Yet another mystery about the old troll that we will likely never solve.