Oh No You Don't!

My husband the comedian says this to me last night:
"I want my mom to immigrate to America in the future."

No.
NO.
No. No. No.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HELL NO!

He can't be serious. Can he?
Oh but yes. He is. Why in the world is saying stupid stuff like this? Men are such idiots.

In the morning, I'm still homicidal.
"You're still angry?" he asks. My Drew-Barrymore-Firestarter-stare must have given me away. He implores me to calm down. That it's something we can discuss again when we are settled in America.

Yes, time is on my side. And I'll buy as much of it as I can to keep those parents of his from coming over permanently.

I kept stewing in my rage so I decided to look online to see what I could find out. Had anyone else been in this situation before? And thankfully, I discovered that I can't be responsible for his moron parents. They're not MY immediate relatives. So I can't bring them over. Oh darn. Yes, that was a heavy layer of sarcasm coating that statement.

Even though I can't get them a permanent resident visa, there is one person who can. Their own son. Yes, my husband can do it. But not while he's a green card holder. He needs to become a full-fledged US citizen first. And that will be lots of paperwork, money and time. Plus, he'll have to prove he has enough money to support those two before they will grant his parents green cards.

I don't like my in-laws. You know this. I don't want anything bad to happen to them though, despite how much I despise them. I really don't. But just because I don't wish any ill will on them does not mean I want to dote on them. I did not work this hard to get out of here and get my husband and daughters into a better place just to have tthem tag along. Maybe that sounds selfish but I don't want to waste my earnings on 2 people who are old and aren't going to accomplish anything else in their lives. The money we make should be spent making our daughters' lives the best we can make them.

I'm fine with them visiting or us going to visit them. I'm fine with sending them money. Even though they have money. Fine. But I'm not in any way, shape or form down with this.

I know that getting all worked up about something that's not even happening yet isn't helpful either. I just had to vent though to get it out of my system. And now that I feel a bit better, I will be praying that this idiotic idea of my husband's never ever comes into fruition.

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!

How Hard Is It?

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

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

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

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

You'd think so, wouldn't you?

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

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

That Does It

I know it's been a while since I've written about MIL. I seriously and very sincerely mean it when I say I have been trying so hard to be nice and just let things go. But if you've been a reader of this blog for any amount of time, you know that sometimes I need to vent before I explode.

On Fridays, MIL knows she isn't supposed to cook. It's my night to cook. But still, she asks me if I want her to cook. I gave her the are-you-completely-crazy-or-stupid face and she nodded in understanding. Yes, go away. Now. Please. Before I throat-chop you. I've had enough of you for this week. You have no idea how hard it is for me to be nice to you or to restrain myself from hitting you over the head with my frying pan that once was nice but is now scorched on the bottom and is dirty because you didn't wash it.

I take Seoul, who is so happy I'm home that she's clapping her hands, into our bedroom and nurse her privately while Raelynn plops down on the sofa in the living room to watch Nickelodeon. I hear MIL making some cleaning-type sounds in the kitchen and then I hear her leave. Good, I think to myself. I don't have to look at that woman for 2 whole days.

When I'm done attending to Seoul, I come out and discover there's not much she's really done in the kitchen to clean up. It's the typical messes. Vegetables on the floor. Crap all over the counter. You know. Except for this...

What IS this, you ask? Your guess is as good as mine. It could be tofu.  It could be meat. The liquid looks like milk but is very likely oily fatty yuckiness. She just left this nasty, unappetizing crap sitting out all day and couldn't be bothered to take it away with her. Like any of us will eat this.

And then, for good measure, she left this apple core. On a dirty oven mitt. WHY would you leave that out? WHY would you save that? And why would you put it on something that is in desperate need of a wash?

These 2 things completely set me off and I realized I could no longer keep quiet about all the stupid shit she's done lately.

Like when she inexplicably dug through my wardrobe. Why the hell was she in there? I have no idea. But she found part of my vortex. I know this because when I'd gone into Raelynn's closet, there staring back at me were 4 of the ugliest pants ever, all of them with polka dots and all of them I'd shoved into the vortex last year. I confronted her on it and she said Raelynn should be wearing these things under her clothes because it's so cold. Not like she doesn't have a shit-ton of other non-vomitous garments to serve that very same purpose. I used Google Translator to tell her that I'd tucked them away because Raelynn refused to wear them. Before MIL could say anything more, Raelynn chimed in with how much she hated them. So take that, Goatface. Oh and yes, I also used Google Translator to tell her to stay out of my closet. Don't touch my personal items. Cow.

And of course, there are days I come home from work and I notice she's given Seoul some of Raelynn's toys to play with. This wouldn't be a problem if the toys were safe for babies. But they aren't and this is why I have repeatedly told her not to do that and repeatedly shown her which toys are for Seoul (honestly, it's quite obvious but MIL doesn't seem to grasp this concept). Yesterday, I came home and found a small box with a shower cap I'd had stashed away on the upper shelf in our bathroom now out in the living room. When I asked her about it, she told me her idiot husband, my FIL, had given it to Seoul. I just can't even with these people.

The list goes on and as you know, one thing here or there doesn't get to me but after suppressing my annoyance constantly I feel a full-on rage boiling over. Bits of luo bo left out everywhere. Insisting Raelynn eat some snack after school when she's already had one. Telling me everything is "hao chi" which is Chinese for delicious and telling me "hao chi" about everything when it clearly is not "hao chi." Putting an extra shirt on the baby to keep her warm inside the house now that Spring is here and city heat has turned off the radiators but NOT putting socks on her feet. Her hagly voice. Washing the dishes with cold water (thankfully Jeremy saw her too and shouted at her). Drinking tea out of an old rinsed out jelly jar which I don't know why it bothers me so much but it just DOES. Using so much oil when she cooks that she ruins everything she cooks.

And so the story goes. There's more of course but I just don't want to waste another minute of my weekend complaining about her. I feel better after venting, for now at least. Until she leaves another bowl of grossness on my counter that is.

Mean Moms Of Qingdao

 This movie will be soooooo fetch!

I have to admit it...I am TOTALLY a Mean Girls fan. Who isn't, right? So naturally, when I heard they were making a Mean Moms, I jumped for joy. Brilliant. Marketing at it's finest, targeting those of us who lived and breathed Mean Girls a decade later with the idea of being mean moms. Because that's definitely a thing. Unlike "fetch," it's happening.

Every mom has had a run-in with a mean mom. And Qingdao seems to be teeming with them. I was talking to two of my gal pals here and like me, they had also lived in Seoul prior to living here. We all have had the same experience regarding making friends. In Seoul, expats were SO much more united and friendly. But here? You could be out at a supermarket or walking around downtown and in a sea of Chinese faces, you see another foreigner! You smile and say hello politely as you pass only to be thrown an icy stare and complete silence.

Making friends here has been very difficult indeed so I treasure the select few that have made the cut. Because there are definitely more mean people here than I can believe. And I come from Miami! That should tell you something!

Let me tell you about a run-in I had a few weeks ago with a mean mom here. It happened at church services, the place where you expect people to have good manners and be kind. Or maybe we're weird for expecting those things. Anyway, let's just call this mean mom Sally Snottypants. Perfect.

Jeremy and I arrived for church while they were still making the weekly announcements before services. He led us into an empty row right in front of Sally Snottypants and her family. Jeremy sat down, as did Raelynn who was eager to go to her little Sunday school class which would start right after the announcements. I started into the row when Sally Snottypants' daughter (who is the same age as Raelynn) began coughing all over the back of my husband's head. Appalled, I ask Sally Snottypants if her daughter was contagious or had measles or anything I should be concerned about.

I should clarify here that this was before Seoul turned 8 months old. In China, they give the MMR (measles, mumps, rubella) shot at 8 months. When we'd gone for Seoul's 7 month vaccination, the nurse warned us to stay away from crowded places because there had been an outbreak of measles. I reported this to the mom friends I have at the church so they could help pass that information around to the other moms. Apparently, this was either the first Sally Snottypants had heard of it or she is even more of a jerk than I previously supposed.

She gives me a major scowl and says, "It's just a cough." Just a cough? Um, hello?!? First of all, I have a small baby with me. Surely you remember when YOUR kids were babies. I bet you didn't want people coughing all over them. Secondly, why bring your kids to church when they're ill? Stay home! And thirdly, your child coughed all over my husband. Are you unable to apologize for that?

When Raelynn was still 2, I taught her to cover her mouth when she coughed and sneezed. She almost always remembers. And you better believe that in the odd chance she forgot and coughed on someone, I would be apologizing to them AND having her say sorry as well. "It's just a cough" is not an acceptable answer.

Shortly after, the children were dismissed to their groups. I walked Raelynn out to the lobby to meet her group leader. Sally Snottypants brought her coughy daughter out after us, yet she put her in line in front of us. I was too stunned to say anything to her, so I loudly warned my daughter not to get close to anyone that was sick. "And keep your hands clean. People have germs," I caution and Raelynn nods solemnly.

I told Jeremy what happened when I returned to my seat. "What a rude lady," he comments. The next week at church, we happened to show up as the children were being led away for their groups so we quickly put Raelynn on the line for her age group. We waved goodbye and as we started walking into the auditorium for services, who should be ahead of us but Sally Snottypants? Jeremy and I loudly teehee like teenagers and he says, "Oh look! It's Rude Lady!" I bet, given the chance, he might give her a stamp or two like he did to the rude lady at the Shangri-La.

Sally Snottypants isn't the only one, unfortunately. Like the ones that are nice to my face and then refuse my friend requests on social media. And still others are just rather unfriendly. But they do serve a purpose...they remind me that I'm lucky to have the friends I have back home and just as lucky to have made some of the few wonderful friends I have here. Quality over quantity has never been more true!

How Many Times?

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

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

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

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

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

Give Me A Break!

Yesterday, I saw this article on the Shanghaiist. In case you're too lazy to click, it's about a bunch of dancing aunties (sometimes known as dancing grannies) who refused to dance somewhere else and are annoying the animals and patrons of the Shanghai Zoo. Dancing aunties have become somewhat of an issue here in China. My friend over at Crazy Chinese Family has written about his own Chinese MIL and her dancing. It's a thing, one I wish my MIL would get into and dance far away from here. For now, she just sings annoying ancient Chinese songs out of tune.

Anyway, the article pissed me off enough for me to bitch briefly about it on my Facebook (both my personal page as well as my blog page) and so I knew I had to devote a blog post to it.

First, here's a photo of a typical dancing auntie ensemble, from The Australian:

Dancing aunties aren't really that old. Look at these women in this photo. And look at the women in the Shanghaiist link I provided at the beginning of this article. Do these women look frail and decrepit to you? No? Yeah, not to me either. So why then are police afraid to tell them that they should find another place to dance?

Here's the end of the article:
The women, who've chosen the amphibian and reptile area as their disco arena, have been told repeatedly by staff to obey the rules, as their noisy music disturbs the animals.“Other visitors have also complained about the loud music. It affects the animals and disturbs their reproduction activity," a zoo official surnamed Ye said in a Shanghai Daily report. One of the ladies, however, reasoned that “the animals enjoy the music and watch us dance.” Ye said the zoo had reached an agreement with the dancers a while back to stay 10 meters away from the reptiles, but that's all gone out the window.
He said that because of their age and because "some of them have high blood pressure and other diseases," all they can do is try to persuade.

Yes, really. Check out that Shanghai Daily link too. No offense to Shanghaiist but the Shanghai Daily article is better written and additionally provides more details. I discussed this with Jeremy who of course defended these "old" people. He said they pay taxes and there's not many places to find where they can dance. He says America is a larger country with less people. That may be so, but what does that have to do with following rules? That is China's problem, I tell him. That no one here obeys the rules that are set up.

In America, if there were groups of dancing grannies, if they happened to congregate in an area that they weren't supposed to, someone in authority would likely come along and tell them politely that they were violating an ordinance and would need to find another place to go. The grannies would likely obey that and find another place to do their dancing. If anyone got surly, they'd likely be hit with fines. And if they took it to an extreme level, they'd likely be ushered off to jail. But I don't see that happening. But here? Oh, but I'm old and frail! You'll make me die by talking to me like an adult and telling me, even kindly, that I cannot dance here.

I don't know about other parts of the US, but in Florida, when I worked mall jobs I always noticed that as soon as the mall was opened up by the security guards, swarms of old people would come in to get their exercise. They would walk all over together to get their exercise in the chillingly refreshing air-conditioned mall. Not once do I ever remember these people making too much noise, impeding the walkways or causing any other problems. They did their thing and were usually gone before the stores opened and the shoppers came. And these people - now these people were old! Definitely older than 50 and 60. 

And guess what? I pay my taxes back in the US. If I were breaking some sort of public rule and someone confronted me about it, I would stop immediately. I would go dance elsewhere. There are plenty of other places to go. Here, it's all about making laws and no one obeys them. Jeremy tried to tell me that wasn't true but then I brought up something that disgusts him - smoking. They made a law about smoking in certain places. Go anywhere in any city in China and you will see "No Smoking" signs posted in many places. And right by them, you'll see some loser puffing away. I can't even begin to tell you how many times we've gone into a restaurant with "No Smoking" signs posted on every wall and then someone will light up right there. Jeremy will usually smile politely and point at our children and ask them to please not smoke. Everyone cooperates then, thankfully, but my point to him about all this was that no one follows the laws here and THAT is the problem with China. Things will always be behind here because people think that the rules don't apply to them. How very sad.

I hope those dancing aunties realize that not everyone wants to hear or see their dancing, there are plenty of other places to dance and that no, the animals do not want very loud, bad music and stomping near their habitats. And I wish everyone else would realize that older people here are not going to just drop dead when you ask them to obey the rules - whether you are polite about it or you call them all sea hags and chase them away with a broom. Additionally, I wish the alligators would come out of the habitat and enjoy the slow-footed ones for lunch. I'm always rooting for the animals.

Pay Attention, MIL!

Yesterday was my blissful MIL-free Thursday. I made us a taco fiesta for dinner. But now today, she was back to cook her non-Chinese New Year dishes which means overcooked, overfried and overgross. Despite this, I tried to be kind as she plodded around our home, even willingly offering her the baby to hold.

Ok, look, she'd have asked to hold her anyway and soon, I'll be back at work when this vacation ends which means my time to prep my online portfolios, LinkedIn and other crud for my US job hunt is growing shorter. I was trying to upload my scans of some of my writing samples. Only problem was the files were too large. So I took photographs of them instead. This made some of the copy on these photos a little harder to read so I had to manually input these articles I'd written. AGAIN. Good thing I type fast. I'd managed to do quite a bit while Seoul napped early in the day but there are lots of samples, so I figured I'd keep rolling on it until Seoul cried for me.

I heard her fussing after a while so I went to see what was going on. And that's when I saw MIL holding Seoul on her lap at the table. MIL was stuffing her big face with a tangerine, with the rind torn apart and haphazardly strewn at the edge of the table, within easy reach of Seoul, who was quite predictably grabbing at it. I snap at MIL and scoop up the baby. In our bedroom, I discover the fruit's telltale pulp on her lips. And her breath smells orangey! I stalk back into the kitchen and ask her if she gave the baby any of her fruit. Although Seoul is old enough to try solids, I am carefully testing things out one week at a time and only a small amount each day. I do not want this woman randomly giving her food. She has no sense at all. Clearly.

So she at first tells me no. Then she says she slurped a little off MIL's fingers. Which is it??? Don't lie to me, you old hag! I tell her not to do this and she kind of laughs the way old Asian people tend to do and I. Lost. It. My husband wonders why I don't speak more Chinese. I'll tell you why - because he doesn't teach me the phrases I really need to know. Like "Don't laugh at me, you old goat-faced troll," for example. Even though I lack the vocabulary to tell her I will cut her if she does this shit again, I am very able to pantomime it, which is what I did. She stopped laughing, as she should. Of course, I'm not really going to cut her. But I do reserve the right to pelt her with rotting fruit. That's allowed, right?

Especially after what I discovered next. I thought Seoul had a booger in her nose so I carefully used a cotton swab to get it out of there. It wasn't a booger...it was a bit of pulp from the tangerine. If you thought I was angry before, it just multiplied...by a million.

I stormed into the kitchen brandishing the cotton swab and shouting at her that I'd found tangerine in the baby's nose. Now she looked sorry. Maybe I'm a mean bitch but she totally deserved to have her ass handed to her. I screamed at her in Chinese and although it was broken and intermittently peppered with American cursing, she definitely got the gist of it.

I wasn't keen on leaving her with the baby before this. Now I'm even more worried about it and still stuck having her watch Seoul. In the US, someone like her would be barred from caring for children. But over here, old people with absolutely no sense in their heads are entrusted with watching over precious babies. It's completely ludicrous!

Pay attention, MIL, because if anything happens to my sweet little Seoul, I will suggest to your government that they put you before a firing squad.

Girl, Interrupted

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Cold Things Will Kill You! Cake Too!

 Killer Cake by ArcZero. Neat!

One thing I have always despised since living here is when people tell you something so idiotic and they expect you to believe it too. Only problem is I'm from the educated world and they are not.

I'm talking about MIL here and her constant freakout about consuming cold things. Or being too cold. As I type this, Raelynn is napping on our sofa with a blanket AND MIL's dingy winter coat tossed over her for good measure. Not like we don't have heating or anything.

MIL came this afternoon shortly after I'd just scrubbed a round of vomit off Raelynn and the sofa. Early this morning, Raelynn had eaten her usual cereal with milk. She'd also requested an egg, which I'd made her but she'd been picking at. I assumed it was due to her zoning off on her cartoons, which is a frequent occurrence. She tells me her tummy hurts and I assure her she just needs to poop. So off she goes to the potty and makes a totally normal poop. She says she feels better. Problem solved.

Soon, it's time for lunch. I make us some leftovers from yesterday's lunch - a pasta I'd made with mascarpone cheese and sandwiches using the fried chicken MIL had made for dinner. Raelynn had been happily eating this stuff yesterday but suddenly, she didn't want to eat anything. She said her tummy hurt again. I told her to try to make another poop. But this time, she doesn't. She says she's not hungry. She wants to play. I scold her for not eating properly and the next thing I know, she's barfing everywhere. Lovely. Poor thing.

As I clean her up, Seoul is crying away in her crib. Nothing I can do but let her sit there and cry while I attend to Raelynn. Once I get Raelynn cleaned up, I go put Seoul down for a nap. While I'm in there, MIL shows up. When I emerge to check on Raelynn, I tell MIL about how Raelynn threw up. First, she blames my food. The food Raelynn didn't even eat! So I yell at the old cow. What an idiot. My food is to blame and she didn't even consume it.

So then she asks what else she's eaten and I tell her cereal and milk and some of an egg. And she blames the milk! It's cold! You gave her cold milk! How dare you! Bitch, please. She eats cereal and milk every day without a problem.

Then, she blames the cake I made for Jeremy's birthday yesterday. You gave her a piece of cake! You bet I did. It was her daddy's birthday. I gave her a small piece of cake after dinner. Now I'm some horrible mom. And hey, speaking of horrible moms, you not once said "Happy Birthday" to your own son on his birthday. Have you no soul? This woman! Ugh.

She thinks the stupidest thoughts. Do you see why it is so difficult for me to endure her? Here is a woman who insists that milk and cereal are bad for Raelynn and this is the culprit but will take her to the yogurt shop around the corner. THAT YOGURT IS COLD! She cooks food and lets it sit out. Oh that won't kill you but a small piece of cake? Geez.

I cannot even wait for our upcoming trip. That was a pleasure, telling her we were going. She had no idea. I can't believe Jeremy didn't tell her yet. Oh well...cat's out of the bag. And the lioness is sharpening her claws for the next attack.

Just Stop.

I still can't even since the other day, and now, there is this funness...

 You can still see the first hole they dug on the sidewalk further in the background behind this giant pit they've dug that I surmise can only lead straight to hell. If you are a regular reader of my posts, then you have probably already guessed that this is not the first time they've excavated a huge hole here. But! It is the first time that they have made one THIS big. At least since we've been living here. Oooooh.

Remember, here is what it looked like the other day:

Why they keep doing this, I will never know. Because, were it me with this project, I would have fiddled with the shit underneath the concrete and bricks BEFORE laying down the new bricks but what the fuck do I know about construction? Not much but I will tell you this...I have never seen so much fuckery in my whole life and I come from South Florida where they are constantly building new condos and kicking the shit out of the natural habitat. I've seen all kinds of weird shit back in my native Florida, but not anything quite like this. What, did they do all this work and then some chode comes in and goes, "Oh yeah! Oopsie Daisy! We forgot to put pipes down there. Tear it up again, boys!"

I know I'm often apologizing for my half-assed photos on here and this one is no exception. Sorry. Seriously. I suck. But I'm not a completely inept photographer. I was just trying to snap this quickly as Raelynn and I ran to Hao Shufu's awaiting taxi. We were already running late because someone *coughcoughRaelynncough* eats slower than a turtle. Unfortunately, because I was moving as I was taking this photo, you can't see what made this even more amusing...someone had thrown a whole cabbage down there. No idea if it was accidental or intentional but it made me wonder.

When will this shit end?!? At least it's not interfering with my sleep but damn! Just stop already!

I Can't Even...

I think I'll just sit in a permanent facepalm position. Remember my post from yesterday? Three separate idiotic airplane incidents here in China caused by stupid and/or selfish fucks. Well, add a fourth one to that, won't you?

This time, 2 female passengers got into a brawl over their seating arrangements. You can read the whole story here.

As for me, I fear that when we take our next trip down to Guangzhou for Jeremy's visa interview, which we will be scheduling soon, that some buttwipe will pull some crap like this and cause our flight to turn around. Or when we go to America.

So this is my message to you people of China: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF! SIT IN YOUR FUCKING SEATS! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND EAT YOUR FUCKING SHITTY NOODLES!

Because let me tell you assholes something...if you do some fool shit like these other people did on a plane that I happen to be on, I will take a diaper full of my baby's shit and shove it in your fucking face. I think the other passengers on the plane will be happy to assist with this. So please, chill the fuck out and get your shit together.

For The Love Of...!!!

Dear China, we need to talk. There have been 3 separate incidents in as many days regarding some of your citizens aboard airplanes which leads me to believe that a severe outbreak of stupid is reaching epidemic levels in your country.

First, there was the flight from Bangkok, Thailand to Nanjing where 2 very selfish and moronic people engaged in an argument with a flight attendant and then threw steaming hot instant noodles onto said flight attendant. I believe I recall Xi Jinping imploring you folks to stop eating noodles whilst traveling. Which makes me insane for many reasons, but primarily because I cannot even fathom shelling out money for airfare and hotel in a new destination only to hide in my hotel room and eat some shitty convenience food instead of trying the food from another place. Something is wrong with you. Very wrong. Really.

Then, there was this selfish prick who wanted to get off the airplane faster so he opened the emergency exit, which in turn, deployed the emergency slide and caused the plane to be 2 hours late for take-off for its' next destination. Can I just ask you what kind of a moron do you have to be to not understand the words "EMERGENCY EXIT" printed in big red letters? It's in Chinese too for God's sake! It's just like the idiots who don't lock the doors to the airplane bathrooms on Chinese flights, even though it is in English AND Chinese. Hence, every single time I've had to use the bathroom when flying around China, I've walked in on someone using it because it says "VACANT" because the imbecile inside didn't lock it.

And today, I saw this one of some yokel who had never before been on a plane and of course did not listen to the safety instructions before take-off because he opened the emergency exit to get a breath of fresh air. At least this idiot opened the door over the wing so there was no emergency slide to deploy.

The level of stupid here is seriously astonishing. It deserves to be in the Guiness Book of World Records. "Most Stupid People Assembled in One Place at One Time." Congratulations, China. You're a winner!

WTF Is In My Kitchen?

In case you're wondering, "shagua" means "stupid" in Chinese. 

Just once, I would love to come home from work and find my house up to par with my level of clean. It's a pipe dream, I know, but I still secretly hope each day as I unlock the door that when I walk in, I will find Mary Poppins instead of Trollzilla holding my baby and greeting me with a sparkling house that doesn't reek of the lingering greasy smells of fish she fried for lunch, and left out alllllllllllll day on the counter.

After working all day, all I want is to spend time with Seoul, and once she's sleeping, hang out with Raelynn. I also wouldn't mind something that wasn't nasty for dinner. Instead, I get things like barf in a bowl and a psychotic mess of random napkins on the floor, sofa, table, chair, under the table, under the sofa, on the kitchen counters - basically everywhere except for the garbage can - that I am now either forced to clean up or leave in place which only enrages me more and also encourages my in-laws, as if to say, "Hey, I like garbage on the floor. Please throw some more down there. Also, add more vegetables and dishes to the countertops because I can still see some of the counter peeking through. I'll just prepare dinner on the floor on top of your garbage pile."

Jeremy had a work meeting this evening so once MIL finally buzzed off, I was left with the aftermath of her whirlwind half-assed cleaning spree. Which, as you probably know from previous posts, means I had to clean up after her. While Raelynn played with some of her toys and Seoul slept, I began tidying up the kitchen to MY standards of clean, not hers. And I found some interesting things because my mother-in-law is Chinese and apparently, that means I should just tolerate her bizarre-borderline-insane habits of leaving out things like this...

 This is a plate of fried tofu. It has been sitting out since yesterday. I left it to see what would happen and I was not at all surprised to find it still there today. I know, I know. I expected a miracle I guess since I thought someone would dispose of it. Why leave a whole plate of food out like that? Why make it if you're not going to eat it? It's this cultural confusion I can't get behind in this country. I've lived here 4 years and I still have yet to figure this shit out. It's as mystifying as those bloody Chinese characters themselves.

I told Jeremy I was going to throw it out and he implored me not to. See, because if I do, then MIL will be all like, "Hey, where's my mummified tofu?" And he'll tell her I threw it away and she'll get angry. But if he TELLS her, "Hey, your tofu has fossilized after sitting out for so long. You should throw it away because if you eat it, you'll get sick," it's less upsetting to her. I asked him why she doesn't eat it and he said, "Are you crazy?!? She could die!" And that my friends, is when I facepalmed. Seriously. This. Culture. Makes. Me. Nuts.

 Half an apple. WHY would you do that?!? Why wouldn't you just eat the whole thing?!? She cut half up for Raelynn because every day she HAS TO do this. Because she's an old zombie who can't do anything different a day in her life. The world will go to pieces if Raelynn doesn't have an apple! And that bag? That is a dirty bag full of raisins. Urgh. I want to cry.

 Look how dirty. WHY is it here?!? Go back to MIL's house, you!

Finally, we have a tupperware filled with an assortment of plastic bags, garlic and luo bo. FUCKING LUO BO! You know, I went through this tupperware and I found 4 - yes, FOUR - completely different cut up luo bo. That means she cut up one, ate some of it, then cut up another...oh! And she left some out on the counter too in another bag and I threw that in the refrigerator. WHY CAN'T YOU JUST EAT ONE WHOLE LUO BO AND THEN CUT UP ANOTHER ONE??? WHY DO YOU KEEP LEAVING RANDOM PIECES OF LUO BO AROUND MY KITCHEN AND HOME??? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?????????????????????????????

MIL Meme Of The Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

Long Time, No Yuck

I've been up since 4:30am so I'm going to get right to the point.

May was the last time I found a yuck in our home. Not counting MIL's cooking. Yucks are generally hidden somewhere. Today's yuck was hidden in a cabinet, much like the first yuck.

Unfortunately, I have no photos of this. I was reaching into the cabinet, which, as it turns out, was the same cabinet I'd found the first yuck in, groping for a large Tupperware container to hold crab shells. See, MIL made crab for dinner, which was mighty kind of her, so we needed something we could toss the shells into as we ate. I grasp a rectangular one and yank it out and suddenly, SPLASH! My feet and the floor are bathed in some sort of liquid. It's opaque and slightly resembles chicken broth. There's no smell that I can detect and I'm surely not going to put my face close enough to check it out. I scream. Jeremy runs in and sees it. He just shakes his head and tosses me a rag. Shouldn't he be the one cleaning up after his troll mother? Yeesh. What the hell was that in there anyway? Someone help me.

But wait...there's more! After dinner, I have Raelynn clean up. I'm helping her and that's when I discover THIS on my sofa:

What. The. Fuck. Do you know what this is?

It's d'oh! I mean DOUGH! Yes, dough. Stupid cow left a blob of dough on my sofa when she was making her baozi (those retched steamed stuffed bun things).

Dough.

How does one leave shit like this on someone's sofa? I'm not upset about the sofa as it's pleather and coming apart. I'm just upset that I seriously almost sat in it and that she makes messes like this and couldn't be bothered to clean it up. No, no. Really, that's ok. I'll just work all day after getting up at 4:30 in the fucking morning to feed a baby and put her back down to sleep and have her wake up 30 minutes later wanting to eat her little hands and roll over and laugh and play and all kinds of cute shit while I feel like I might drop dead from the exhaustion AND THEN I'll clean up after you because Lord knows you can't possibly put the baby down in the crib for 1 minute to clean that up. Or do that while she sleeps. Oh no. It's so hard FOR YOU to watch a baby AND cook food.

And you know what sucks? She left one of her ugly scarfs on the sofa because heaven forbid she would use the fucking coat rack by the door and I was thisclose to using it to wipe up the dough. I should have just done it but me and my big mouth had to tell Jeremy what I was plotting to do and although he laughed, he turned to me quite seriously and told me not to do that. Ruin my fucking fun why don't you? Gah!!!!

Eggstra! Eggstra! MIL Still Sucks!

Some things never change. Ever. Of course she still sucks. It's like MIL looks for new ways to make me despise her. Maybe in her pea-brain, she's thinking, "Let's see if my daughter-in-law will really lunge at me with the butcher knife if I do this..." You have no idea how hard it is to restrain myself. No, I'd never stab her or even kill her. But I seriously must fight the urge to smack her upside the head. On a daily basis.

Today, the only difference was how strong the urge was and how close I came to living the dream of bopping her on the head.

We have an arrangement, as you are likely aware if you are a regular reader of this blog, that Mondays through Thursdays, she cooks dinner after I get home. I hate this arrangement but if I don't accept her help, I will never get to spend time with my Seoul, who, incidentally, will turn 4 months this weekend. Jeremy ordered her to leave me alone on Fridays. I am so happy every Friday because, for one, it's the weekend. And for another, I don't have to see that buck-toothed zombie for 2 whole days. Yay!

Each Friday, she basically leaves as soon as I get home and I am absolutely delighted. Raelynn plays while I nurse Seoul. Then I sing songs to my baby and play with her until she gets sleepy, which doesn't take long. Once she's asleep, I cook dinner. I don't make anything big and crazy but I do plan ahead and think of cool things I can make in 30 minutes or less. 45 minutes tops. Today, while on the bus home, I remembered we had bacon. And pasta. And I knew right then I'd make spaghetti carbonara. And if we still had lettuce, I'd make a fresh salad and homemade ranch dressing  to accompany the carbonara. Perfect!

So today, I feed Seoul and plop her into the crib while I go take the bacon out of the freezer. And that's when I discover MIL is cooking something. Incredulous, I ask her what she thinks she's doing. It's Friday and I'm cooking, not her. I am trying not to explode, but I seriously just want to grab her by the throat. I am so sick of being forced to eat her vomitous cooking creations. Is it so much to ask that I get to cook something I like on the weekends?

MIL tells me she's making an egg for Raelynn. It's just after 5pm now. An egg? I ask her. Why? I'm going to make dinner shortly, I tell her. But Raelynn's hungry, she tells me. Yeah? She just ate a snack on the bus. She's not going to starve if she has to wait 30 more minutes for her dinner. I tell her that if she gives her an egg now, she won't eat her dinner properly. But that evil cow goes about her egg-making ways and I curse at her in English, but without shouting so she can't whine to Jeremy that I shouted at her. She's no idea what I'm saying to her but I'm sure she knows I'm pissed.

Seoul falls asleep and when I come out of our room, I'm thrilled to discover MIL has gone to her house of farty smells and greasy grossness. I whip up spaghetti carbonara so delicious that my mom would be proud. Seriously, it was perfect. My salad was crisp and delicious too. And Jeremy surprised us by bringing fresh scallops, so we steamed and ate those too.

But Raelynn, who had asked for spaghetti, didn't touch it. She ate some of the scallops and a cucumber from the salad. Other than that, she was too full from the egg to dig into her portion of pasta. I think she took one bite of it. And it wasn't an "I don't like this" crybaby toddler issue. She was full. Now I was pissed. If MIL wants me to hate her even more deeply, she has succeeded.

I was fuming mad as I started writing this post, but Jeremy came home and we enjoyed our dinner and then some wine. And while we were unwinding, a wonderful idea popped into my head. On Monday when that awful woman is here, I will make a very big point of giving Raelynn a snack before dinner. A big snack. So she doesn't eat a bit of what that vile woman prepares. Then MIL will get a taste of her own medicine. Take that, cow!

Hurricane MIL Destroyed My Kitchen

Hurricane season just ended in my home state of Florida, but that doesn't mean I'm immune to Category 5 disasters right here in Qingdao. I cannot even begin to stress to you all just how happy I will be when my kitchen no longer winds up looking like this:

Or when we live in a place with a whole different kitchen. One that doesn't suck. One that isn't constantly being invaded by people who do THIS to it.

Please note that the above photo was taken AFTER she did some cleaning. Yes, AFTER. I had tried to snap a photo before but got caught up with the baby. She must be catching on that when I say, "What the fuck is this shit?!?" I'm talking about the unholy messes she's created.

Let's discuss this mess, shall we? She's piled a ton of cookery on the stove. She's left 2 giant containers of oil out. She left an assortment of dishes on the counter, next to her jumbo board she uses for rolling out dough for dumplings and that sort of shit. And that dirty rolling pin...memo to myself: go check the fucking drawer of kitchen utensils because you know old batshitcrazy MIL has probably thrown it in there without washing it. Oh and dig the dirty oily rag on the counter. I was just discussing that with an avid reader of my blog in the comments on another post. No matter how quickly Jeremy and I snatch up dirty rags and throw them in the wash, she will even more quickly grease up and grungify another one. If we didn't do that, I shudder to think how long she would go without washing a rag. Hang on. I almost threw up thinking about that. I think that will be what I use when I feel myself overdoing it on sweets. I'll think of the rag and I'll gag. And then I won't want to eat anything. Hmmm...it's just crazy enough to work! Goodbye, last bit of baby weight!

This is the other counter. The dish rack has been moved here, thanks to Jeremy. Don't ask. I hate it here. Although it DOES free up a lot of space on the other counter. You know, so MIL can stick random shit by the sink.

Anyway, just look at this shit. She never puts anything away. A bag of flour. A bag of peanuts. A pot filled with some meat dish. She served it to Jeremy but didn't even think to serve it to me. Pity, because it actually looked and smelled decent. No, no, no. Better serve Jennifer the baozi I know she hates. Baozi and cucumber sticks. Yes, my lovely daughter-in-law won't lob them at my big, fat lopsided head. NOT. You can see some of the baozi (those are steamed, stuffed buns by the way, in case this is your first time here) in that bowl by the electric kettle. And hey, by the blender, dig the beer mug FULL of green tea leaves. No joke.

 I moved it to the kitchen table to take better photos and show my husband. Lest anyone ever complain about the price of tea again. Or have any questions about who is wasting it. I'll give you a clue...MIL!

Just look how much tea is in there! Sweet Lord! And why are you using our beer mugs?!? My in-laws are so bizarre. Instead of using the countless coffee mugs we have, they use beer mugs or a glass I'd use for cold water to make their tea.

Half of that beer mug is filled with tea leaves! Gah! I give up. I'm going to throw in the towel. Or in this case, the oily rag.

Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

You know, I should start off with something positive. So let me just say that yesterday, MIL was helpful. I KNOW. Pigs must have been flying somewhere because she completely backed me up without undermining my parenting when Raelynn was throwing a tantrum.

The tantrum, incidentally, was about a cupcake. I'd made strawberry cupcakes with strawberry frosting, much thanks to my mom who sent the mix in a package. Seoul turned 100 days this weekend and we were spared a crazy celebration with all the relatives since in China, 100-day celebrations are a big deal. Well, we were spared until the upcoming weekend that is. Stay tuned for that. Anyway, I thought we should make our own small celebration for her so I made the cupcakes. And we ate them for her.

Since FIL has been banned from meeting us at the school bus stop each day, I've been working with Raelynn to keep her from acting out. I know it's really hard for her to keep from sleeping on the bus. Lord knows I try to keep her awake but she's just too tired and the ride is long. When she is woken up, she's disoriented and I totally understand how that must be for her. Yesterday, I spoke to her about this before we got on the bus. And while we were on the bus. I told her if she got off the bus without screaming and throwing a fit, I'd give her a cupcake when we got home. She was very good on the bus. Until she fell asleep and consequently, had to be woken up to get off the bus. The bus driver looked more than a little annoyed. At least that Chinese teacher refrained from offering candy to her this time.

I finally had to drag Raelynn off the bus and once I did, she screamed some more and tried hitting me. Talk about embarrassing! But before I had kids, I knew I'd have to prepare myself for embarrassing behavior. Like this for example. Because I was worried about her getting hit by a car (we were on the side of the road), my main focus was to get us on the sidewalk and out of any potential danger. Once I did that, I told her she blew it with the cupcake. She keeps yelling and saying she hates me now (I thought that didn't happen until the teen years) but I ignore her. And then she stops suddenly and completely switches gears. Now she's sorry. But I don't care. I say nothing and keep walking, holding her hand all the while and trying to think of something else so I don't fly into a rage.

She knows she's in big trouble and she's not getting that cupcake so now there are more tears. We get inside the house and I explain to MIL what happened. I was shocked and thrilled that she didn't fuck up my hard work because when Raelynn begged her for the cupcake, MIL refused to give it to her until I said it was ok. For ONE WHOLE FUCKING HOUR we listened to this kid scream and cry in her room. MIL went and cooked us food that wasn't too bad (seriously, sorry I have not documented the meals...I keep forgetting until it's too late) and I fed and snuggled Seoul.

Finally, Raelynn figured it out. She apologized for being a jerk. I didn't want to reward her though because I feared she'd think as long as she says she's sorry, even if it's not sincere, she'll get a treat. So I had her help me with some chores. And she really worked hard. So I offered her a cupcake for being a good helper.

Yes, yesterday was a good day for a Monday. Two steps forward.

Now it's Tuesday and we're taking two steps back. Way back.

Only a mini-tantrum today. Plus a big, unattended and mangy dog walked by us and that sufficiently spooked her into submission. I'll just remind her about the yucky dog from now on and I think that will achieve the desired results. When we get home, I see MIL has dressed Seoul in Raelynn's socks. Because she's too stupid to find the socks in Seoul's drawers, apparently. Because it makes SO much sense to put socks on a baby that are intended for a child 3 times the size. Perfect. So I tell her this and show her AGAIN where all the clothes are for the baby and just shake my head.

Next, it's dinner time. I've been busy bathing Seoul and trying to reach my brother on Skype for his birthday. Now Seoul is tired and I've put her to sleep. Raelynn comes to tell me it's time to eat. So I emerge from our room and I find only 2 things on the table:
1) Chicken wings, which she made yesterday. Not leftover, just a new batch. She makes good chicken wings but I don't want to eat the same thing 2 days in a row. She always does that kind of thing. My friend Lynelle suggested that she probably buys a bunch of the same thing and then just uses it until it's gone and that makes tons of sense. Only she makes those things the same way every single day. If she has cauliflower, she cooks it with sesame oil. For 5 days straight. Me, I can take cauliflower and find 5 different ways to make it during the week. I wish she could do that too.
2) Xifan. Because OF COURSE.

That's it. Nothing else. So I ask her where are the vegetables because I know Jeremy will shit a brick if there are no vegetables on the table and she then offers me baozi, those steamed stuffed bun things I hate, because those have vegetables in them, she tells me. *facepalm*

So I eat what I can, trying not to snarl in rage too much because there are 2 cupcakes left. Raelynn has eaten all of what MIL served her, which was my requirement for getting a cupcake today, so she is happily eating hers. Mine is sitting, waiting for me to finish this bland offering. But I want to set a good example for my daughter so I eat politely and then enjoy my cupcake.

As I go to throw out the cupcake wrapper, I see something odd in the garbage can. I realize what it is. It's a smoke detector a friend gave us before moving back to the US. A smoke detector that I've been nagging someone to get batteries for. Here (Korea too), smoke detectors aren't usually present in homes. It's the stupidest thing ever. Now ours is sitting toward the top of the trash with soggy tea leaves on top of it. I shout for MIL to come and ask her about it. She tells me it's broken. How would you know, you old moron? It's not broken! It needs batteries. What pisses me off about this is that she threw out something of ours without asking either one of us. She just ASSUMED. She didn't even know what it was. She probably thought it was a mini-spaceship or some shit. I explained to her what a smoke detector does. Then I told her don't throw out our things. This is someone who leaves garbage around the house like napkins and junk mail but throws out things that we want, need or use. That's probably why Raelynn's art smock disappeared. She didn't think there was a use for it. YET SHE KEEPS ALL KINDS OF OTHER USELESS SHIT! She once tried to dig out old power strips that had frayed wires from our garbage until I told her they were broken!

To make my point to her, I pointed at her shoes and asked her if she'd like it if I threw her things into the garbage. She said no. I then told her to please not throw out our things and to only throw out actual garbage. We'll see how that goes. We all know her track record, don't we?