The Great Buttinsky

My husband managed to escape work earlier this evening. We were enjoying our lives as a family of 3, soon to be a family of 4. I began cooking dinner, making dirty rice (thanks to a box of Zattarain's my mom sent), some Old Bay seasoned shrimp and home fries. And then, IT knocked at the door.

Sigh.

I seriously thought we went over this. Didn't we? We did. I was told she wouldn't come every night, but here she is coming every night. And she wonders why I'm unhappy to see her standing there, wearing the same outfit she's worn now for 3 days straight. And for the 3rd consecutive day, she makes the same bland mush for my child. Raelynn is 3. She's not an infant. She can feed herself and she likes chewing her food. Ugh.

My husband senses I'm angry about this. Darn right I'm angry. I'm sick and tired of this. I live here. I'm pregnant. I've agreed to my in-laws coming over every other day. Why isn't what we agreed to being respected? And now, he yells at me, rudely in Chinese I might add, so that I don't fully understand what he's said but that fat cow does. Thank you. Because the doctor said I needed to be eating more food for the baby but now I've completely lost my appetite thanks to both of you.

There's arguing and my husband walks out. I slam the door to our bedroom but not before telling MIL this is all her fault. I hope she's thrilled she's caused us to quarrel yet again. Soon, I hear the door open and close. I think my husband has come home from stomping around the block but no. MIL has left. So I go sit with my daughter, the only one of us with any sense in this family, who hugs her mommy and tells me not to be sad. I clean up the plates from dinner and soon, the door opens again. Both MIL and Jeremy are back. But he's still angry with me. He asks me what I said to her so I told him what I'd said. It's not like I called her a fucking shitbrained fuckwad (which I really wanted to call her) but he's still furious with me. On and on he hollers and I realize that my feelings are absolutely not important here. How could they be? No, I'm just the 9-month pregnant person who desperately wanted a break from certain people interfering in her life and now I'm being manipulated into thinking I'm an asshole because I've asked and asked and asked AND ASKED. And to no avail.

The Great Buttinsky strikes again, manipulating everything in her favor. Oh poor me. I'm an old lady who just wanted to see my grandchild and take care of my daughter-in-law. Please. Save it. I don't buy it but your son is easily charmed by your bullshit. Go ahead and play dumber-than-usual when your son yells at me because YOU interfered again and he doesn't want to hurt your feelings because you're old.

So now I'm stuck with these fuckheaded asshats coming over each evening and all I can do is pray that the processing on my husband's visa goes very quickly so we can move far away from these deranged loons.

Insane In The Brain

Apparently, my in-law free time does not include dinner, which already set me off this evening. I was putting the finishing touches on a panang curry and whisking fresh dressing for a salad when I heard a knock at the door. I smiled, thinking it was just my husband who, despite usually having his keys, will knock so Raelynn gets all excited about his arrival. But when I opened the door, it was the head troll, wearing the same mismatched shit she had on yesterday. Why are you here today? Dinner's ready. Oh, I see, because you think I can't cook for my child, so you must barge in here like this. She eats my food when you're not around acting like your dog food is superior to my culinary prowess. I hate you!

I scowl as I cart my lovely meal out to the table, though Raelynn makes me happy by eating the salad with me. Good girl.

I go ahead and eat even though I am so angry I'm not really hungry anymore. But it's fucking delicious and I need to eat for this baby anyway, so win-win. I try to relax and enjoy my food and something on TV and then, the doorbell. It's FIL of course and now I'm ready to fully strangle both of them.

Soon after though, my husband arrives. He can see I've plastered a big fake smile on my face but he knows I am about to rip out someone's throat, possibly his. I tell him quite calmly that I cannot take it anymore and this family is making me insane. Insane in the membrane. Insane in the brain. He does not get the Cypress Hill reference, sad to say, but don't hold that against him. He grew up in this country and was raised by morons. It's amazing he even knows how to tie his own shoes.

I eat my fill and move to the couch where I desperately try to block out the stupid by watching TV. But soon, my husband is yelling at his parents and I'm curious to know why.

I'll tell you why.

And this, my dears, is where I absolutely fucking lose the last of my mind.

I'd asked Jeremy to have the bed his dad was fixing up for Raelynn's room moved into the house this weekend so we can get Raelynn used to the bed before the baby comes. I mentioned that in the last post, fearing that it might be secured together with packing tape. I've been working very hard on her and talking to her about her getting a big girl bed and she seems very excited about it. Still, I'd be foolish to expect this transition to go completely smoothly and for her not to rebel (or climb out every 5 minutes to annoy us) so that is precisely why I've been pleading with my husband to get this bed moved in pronto.

We had shopped around for beds a few months ago and were going to buy one when those 2 imbeciles butted into the whole thing which was none of their fucking business to begin with and they said they would buy us a bed. Then they said they'd add a rail to the extra twin bed they have in their home and give us that. Trying to keep the peace, even though I preferred something nicer, I said ok, because quite honestly, we'll be working on moving away from this land of birdbrains soon. As long as it has something to keep Raelynn from falling out at night and no sharp nails poking out the other side of it, I'll be happy.

So FIL said he'd set to work fixing that bed up. And then all fell quiet. I'd ask and ask and be shut down about it, my husband too busy with soccer and some random clients on the weekends lately to deal with it. Last weekend though, I put my foot down. I demanded this bed get moved in immediately.

All this is back story to what I get hit with tonight...FIL starts talking to me, too quickly, I might add, and all I've understood from his rambling is the word "sleep." Wanting to be sure I understand, I turn to my husband who tells me his father is talking about the bed. The yelling was because my in-laws NOW decided that you know what? MIL wants to keep that bed so she can nap and we'll just buy you a new bed for Raelynn.

Um, what? What the fucking what?!? Don't buy me ANYFUCKINGTHING. Seriously. I picked out beds months ago with my husband and you all fucked it up. Now I am a few weeks away from having this new baby and you all shit up this fucking bullshit? I'm going to kill them. With my bare hands. Someone hold me back, please.

Jeremy translates what I've said, in a much more polite way, explaining that I'm now panicking because this baby will soon arrive and we must get Raelynn used to sleeping in the new bed so we need a bed for Raelynn put into her room NOW. As they discuss all this, I claw at the couch with my nails and try not to flip the fuck out. Surely my husband will come through on THIS situation, right?

Well, he might fuck it all up when it comes to giving me time and space away from these 2 nimrods but he solved this issue. Turns out the old bed FIL was modifying will come on over after all, and Jeremy's even lined up some guys with a truck to move it on in here this very weekend. So stay tuned for how this thing looks because I just can't even. This is going to be horrible, isn't it? I just wanted a nice princess bed for my big girl and now I'm going to wind up with something frightful. Even the bed Homer makes Bart would probably be better, right?

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.

Don't. Just Don't.

Recently, I wrote about how annoying it is when people touch your kids on the hands or face, or even just yank off their hat in the middle of the supermarket while the kid is already visibly grouchy just so they can get a better look. Social ineptitude at its' finest, right here in China.

It reminded me that soon, very soon, I will be dealing with this problem with an infant all over again. Newborns are as much an attractive nuisance in China as swimming pools are to all the people of Florida. They just can't fucking resist them. And while that should be something sweet and endearing, it's not when you're trying to do mundane tasks, like shop at the supermarket for example, or when random strangers just surround you like all the goats at the petting zoo to touch your child. A friend of mine who just had her first baby here told me all about her experiences with this so far and her son is about 2 weeks old now. I had warned her about this but still, listening to her stories about what had already occurred made ME angry for her. I know exactly how she feels.

I expect this kind of shit while I'm out and about, though now that Raelynn is bigger, this occurs so much more rarely. But what I do not expect is for this to happen at school of all places.

It was that damn Laulen the inept librarian. Even though Patrick, my friend and Western boss, told me that he got her to change it properly to Lauren, I cannot help but call her Laulen. She does not deserve to have the same beautiful name as my best friend. She's a bungling imbecile and it's best she gets an Engrish name as clumsy as she is.

She rides the school bus that we ride home. When she sits in front of us, she always turns around and talks to Raelynn. I don't mind this but it's the inane chatter she shits up that annoys me. "Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!" Raelynn always says hi but then ignores her after that. She's not a baby. She can have conversations. It's why Raelynn says much, much more to Teacher Stacey, the first grade teacher, who actually asks her about her day or what snack she's eating. See the difference? People here have no social skills.

Today, Surly was not yet there with the school bus, a rare occurrence. So as we waited, I held sleepy Raelynn in my arms. I was talking to Stacey when Laulen came up and started stupidly talking to Raelynn, who did not want anything to do with her. Then Laulen grabbed one of Raelynn's little hands, as if to shake it hello but not doing that. My daughter gave her THE most pissy face ever. And now I'm annoyed. Because I washed my kid's hands before we left so she could enjoy her snack on the bus without ingesting germs. The last thing I need is for this kid to get sick on my birthday this weekend. Sure, I could leave her home with MIL while we go out to eat but I want my sweet girl with me on my special day.

Again though, Laulen grabs for her hand at precisely the time Surly rolls up with the bus. As we walk toward it, she walks ahead while I gripe to Stacey about it. It's not like Laulen and I are friends. It's not like she is one of Raelynn's teachers. Why are you touching my kid? On the hands no less when she's about to eat a snack?!? I wouldn't have been mad if she patted her on the head but people here just have no sense about this kind of crap.

We get on the bus and before I can stop her, that fucking moronic Laulen touches her hand AGAIN! This time, I gave her a nasty look and said, "Please don't touch her hands. She's about to eat a snack." Way to go, Laulen. As if I didn't already dislike you immensely.

Don't Poke The Bear

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here We Go Again!

Image is from thechillmom.com who apparently has the same problem as me. I guess it is universal after all.

I didn't think I'd have to deal with this again until we had Baby Qu #2 and were out somewhere in the world with her. When Raelynn was a tiny baby, we had a difficult time trying to keep people from bothering us. Chinese people are incredibly well-meaning, but surrounding me while I'm out trying to buy groceries and holding an infant, then trying to touch that infant with dirty hands, made me very irritated as well as concerned. I wrote about all this here, so take a look. I've also written a much more culturally-friendly piece that is coming out in the next issue of Redstar Family Guide so stay tuned for that (the new issue is not currently linked up online just yet).

As Raelynn's grown bigger, that problem shrank away for us. Most people we meet in public will talk to us first or are perhaps waiting on us in a store and we feel comfortable letting them look at her and even hug her. It's much easier now to keep her hands clean and let her mingle.

This weekend though, for the first time in about 2 years, we encountered one of those idiots that just bothers your kid. We were at the Aeon supermarket nearest us, our new supermarket hangout since Metro decided to be a bunch of assholes. Our frying pan had fried it's last meal earlier in the week and was beyond repair so we were checking out our options in the home goods section. A very kind and helpful saleswoman was helping us with that. Or should I say she was helping Jeremy because, by default, I had to tend to Raelynn who was tired and hot (because it is mid-June and none of the stores turn on the A/C yet because everyone here is absolutely insane when it comes to indoor cooling) and therefore very prone to misbehaving.

All 3 of us were wearing baseball caps on this journey. Me, because my hair looked like total ass and I hate it right now since I can't go have it straightened while pregnant. Jeremy just wanted to wear his Miami Heat hat that Natalie sent. And Raelynn wanted to be like Mommy and Daddy. As I'm talking to Raelynn, some other saleswoman comes up and doesn't even say anything to me but just takes Raelynn's hat off her head. Raelynn screams and gets even more agitated than she already was. I just stare. "What the FUCK is wrong with you?" I yell at the woman. "You've upset my kid! Who the hell do you think you are taking her hat like that?" Understanding that I was now a very angry customer, she backpedaled and said in Chinese that she just wanted to get a look at my daughter. Then why didn't you come up and say hello to us first and ASK me? If you'd only approached us properly, I wouldn't have been angry and my child wouldn't have been upset with someone taking her hat off.

Jeremy didn't realize exactly what was going on because he was in the middle of choosing a new pan. After being shouted at, the idiot saleswoman retreated to her aisle. After Jeremy chose a pan, I gave him the thumbs up. Then he bought me a new whisk (I STILL have not been able to find mine, which is more proof that MIL either ate it or broke it) and a garlic press and as we chose those items, I began to explain what had happened while he was talking to the helpful saleswoman. It angered him too. People here are so socially awkward that it's frightening. THAT is what I hate about having kids here. Some people here are so wonderfully kind and friendly and they will talk to you first and ask your permission to either photograph your child or touch/hold your child. We like those kind of people. But what we don't like are moronic people who come up and pull some kind of shit like this. I guess it is just a fresh reminder for what is about to come our way once we have the baby. Bring it on, unwashed masses! I'm ready to kick your asses!

Hey, Thanks MIL!

If you detected sarcasm in the title of this post then you win a prize. The prize being that you don't have my MIL for your MIL. And if yours is even one iota like mine, my sympathies.

Today, we have a whole new reason to be thankful for the pushy troll. Yes, that was sarcasm again. My, you're getting good at this, aren't you?

Add this to the list of reasons why MIL pisses me off...

We went for a check-up today at 32 weeks. As it's been getting warmer outside, I've noticed my ankles swelling up a bit. Dr. Wang was a bit concerned about it too so she had me take a urine test. The results stated that I'm taking in too much salt and now she told me I can't have any salt. On anything. Until the baby is born. Yay. Thanks, MIL.

How do I know this is her doing? Well, let's be fair. She didn't do it to harm me. This is just how she cooks. And if all the things she cooks suck, well, it's going to suck even more without salt, isn't it? My husband rather sheepishly admitted that his own father has always complained that MIL puts too much salt in everything. When I cook, if I use salt, I use a pinch. So now I can forget about even having a small handful of chips every now and then. Thanks, MIL.

It's totally her fault for insisting she cook for us 3 times a week. I didn't want her in here cooking in the first place and now look what happened. Not. My. Fault. Someone (coughcoughJeremeycough) should bow down now and start rubbing my swollen cankles whilst pinning diamond earrings to my ears.

The good news though is that the baby is doing very well. And my husband will be scolding his mother about her over-salting the food. And banishing her from using salt on our food. Can't he just banish her, period? Sigh. How I wish.

In other good news, Dr. Wang did not say that I'd gained too much weight (even though I seriously wanted to cry while being weighed) and she did not tell me I couldn't have sweets like she did when I was pregnant with Raelynn. So at least I can still enjoy some treats while I'm pregnant.

Until Baby Qu #2 arrives though, we will now officially be a salt-free family. That's if the queen of the dumbed can remember not to use salt on anything she cooks. This should be fun, seeing that she always forgets that the blue rags I keep far away from the kitchen sink are for scrubbing counters and she's always wiping her hands on them to clean off her fingers. Or washing our dishes with those rags. Lord help us all!

Pregnancy Peeves

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

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

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

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

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

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

Furniture rearrangements.
Lest you think I'm a madwoman, I must tell you that my husband just gets into these insane moods where he decides to rearrange the furniture. Since we will be getting Raelynn a big girl bed (which, incidentally, will now be a bed the in-laws already have that FIL is hammering some guardrail onto...grrrrrrreat...), the crib will need to move into our room while the baby is small. So our big entertainment cabinet that once was out in the living room which was moved to our bedroom is now back out in the living room. This I don't mind. It's the next batch of crap he decides he wants to change without thinking logically. Like when he moved his desk into the middle of our bedroom. Um, no, Honey.

He scooted it next to his side of the bed. But prior to that, he just pushed it in the center of our room. That fucking y chromosome! Fortunately, this desk is quite light so I just pushed it back against the wall where it had previously been residing once I came home from work the next day. I anticipate that any day now, he will move the couch around and possibly our bed. Urgh...

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gah!

I just want to relax on my Sunday evening. Of course, because it is just what I want, it is not what I'm getting. Not by a long shot.

This was a mostly marvelous 4-day weekend. On Thursday, my husband took Raelynn and me to a botanical gardens park. We'd never been and it was just what we needed. We packed snacks of melons and chips and found a quiet place to munch on them. It satiated my desire to get out and do something yet not be stuck with lots of crowds and made Jeremy happy as well. He'd initially suggested going out to Laoshan Mountain, where his parents have another house. I've shown you that house before. If you haven't seen it or you forgot how much it sucks, click here. Even if they didn't have property out there, I hate it out there. HATE IT. It is so unbelievably boring, it makes you feel like you are waiting for death.

After the park, we went to a total dump of a place for lunch. It was a Chinese BBQ place. I was a bit apprehensive but I didn't want to spoil the mood by whining. Turns out, the food was amazing. We had a great lunch and then we did a little shopping out in Taidong. It was fantastic.

Our Friday was also a nice family day. We went looking at big girl beds for Raelynn so we could get a feel for what our options were and at what prices. We've still yet to make a decision but those fancy showrooms made me feel right at home. I had no idea they even had furniture this nice out here. Equally as confusing were the prices...I have no idea who can afford that furniture either. It was expensive to us and we're not struggling. We found a great bed that was raised up with storage drawers underneath. It had a railing and an adorable little 3-step ladder to climb up. The price? 6,000rmb. For comparison, Raelynn's crib cost us 600rmb. Yeah.

Later though, that's when things began to suck. Raelynn was coughing and had a fever. Saturday was spent trying to deal with her being sick. We wanted to take her to the doctor but his office was closed for the holiday. Today, Sunday, my husband had to return to work. Yes, that's right. Because in China, they will give Chinese people days off during the week and then expect them to work on the weekend to make them up. Which defeats the purpose of a holiday if you ask me. My school is a Korean school and they feel much like the rest of us Westerners about it - we are NOT coming in on the weekend to make up a holiday, thanks.

Worried about us getting to the doctor and language issues, my husband called his boss to say he'd be a little late. Then off to the doctor's we went. Aside from a fever that broke during the day but returned at night, we had a coughing, sneezing little munchkin. One who had no appetite. We should have known something was wrong when she couldn't finish a piece of chocolate she'd received as a reward for making a poop in the potty. The doctor gave us something that seems to be working. No more fever and my poor little princess fell sound asleep watching cartoons while I was cleaning.

As I finished my chores quietly, my phone rang. It was my husband telling me that those 2 imbeciles that he calls parents are going to come over later to make Raelynn noodles.

Yes, noodles. Because Lord knows I am too fucking stupid to make and serve noodles to my daughter. I need these 2 to come make them. I mean COME ON! My husband wouldn't hear my pleas and now I'm a bit steamed actually. These fuckmunches come and butt into my life constantly. It's not that they want to see Raelynn. They want to be in charge of everyfuckingthing and that is what pisses me off.

So here they are, making a fucking mess in my kitchen. Asking me why the sink is leaking again. Telling me I haven't dressed my daughter warmly enough (I have her in a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans and socks and we are indoors with the windows closed with an outside temperature of 64F). Telling me she has a fever when the thermometer says her temperature is fine. Taking her outside for a walk when they are telling me it's too cold in here for her (it's not fucking cold!!!). Forcing her to eat watermelon when the kid doesn't have an appetite for anything, especially chocolate, her favorite. The list goes on and on. And my husband? He might be a little late returning from work. So I am stuck with Wingus and Dingus over here, ruining what should be a peaceful Sunday evening. Making me food that smells like it was dug out of the garbage. Squawking away at each other like chickens about to be plucked and boiled alive.

My husband says to be polite. "Just take a bite of something she gives you and that will satisfy her." Sorry Honey, but I think you hit your head on something. Whether I like something or don't, whether I am hungry or full, my in-laws will both keep putting things onto my plate. They won't stop no matter how nicely I ask. And that's with things I like! I once had my FIL keep peeling shrimp and putting them on my plate. I kept asking him to please stop but he wouldn't. I BEGGED him to please eat the shrimp but he kept dropping them on my plate for me as if I was incapable of grabbing them myself. So if they do that with things I like, imagine how much it sucks for them to do it with things I don't want to eat. It is so beyond frustrating and I am completely running out of patience for this kind of shit. Gah!

Goodbye Sanity. Hello MIL.

There goes my idea of a peaceful day.

Despite being horribly tired as I’m about to enter week 38 of pregnancy, I forced myself to clean the house from top to bottom. I know my days are numbered before the baby comes and I just want everything to be as clean and orderly as it can be. That said, I expect anyone that enters this home, my husband included, to pick up after themselves and to keep up my standards of clean. It’s not easy to clean like this anymore but I do it anyway. It makes me feel in control of something since I cannot control when the baby will come out. It also makes feel better when I know everything is truly clean. Plus, it’s pretty good exercise. 

I spent 2 hours after breakfast washing dishes, vacuuming, dusting, mopping and putting things into their rightful places in every room of our home. I also made sure to clean the baby’s room again which I don’t do every single day but if I go into labor tomorrow, I know that room will be nice and clean. I was actually contemplating a nap at 11am. I need all the rest I can get at this point and I tend to listen to my body when I feel tired. 

Suddenly, I hear knocking at the door, then unlocking, then entry. And I cringe and groan. It’s her. My MIL. My husband had promised me she’d only come twice a week. She’s already been here twice this week. I do not wish to look at her. When I texted my husband about this, he said he told her to come and that it’s good for her. Um, hello? Did he hit his fucking head? I’m the one who is about to give birth to your first child. It should only matter what is good for ME AND THE BABY. Not your mom, who fucked up my pristine, sparkling tile floors with her muddy fucking shoes as soon as she entered. I pointed this out to her and she starts apologizing. She grabs the mop and when she’s done, there are STILL footprints on my damned floor. What the hell is wrong with her? Let’s even give her the benefit of the doubt…maybe she can’t see so well anymore. Even with that, you’d still not be able to miss the mess. It wasn’t like she left a small spot of dirt on the floor. SHE LEFT ENTIRE FOOTPRINTS! 

I wish I could just go somewhere and not have to deal with her today. Want to invade my clean house? FINE. I’m out of here! But I can’t. I will be 38 weeks pregnant tomorrow, and to wander around a city like this alone at this stage of pregnancy is a pretty stupid idea. I could take the bus or a taxi but then what would I do when I get where I’m going? I have to pee so often, I might as well just stay in our bathroom. Everyone I know here is at work so it’s not like I’d even have good company. My husband thinks his mother coming over will help me to not be lonely but it makes me even more lonely having some boring old lady coming into my house, messing up my things and making things that smell like farts in my kitchen. 

She should be the one that leaves. I shut our little stupid 70’s privacy curtain to show her I am in no mood to deal with her today. I wish she’d take the fucking hint. I don’t want to go into labor with her here. I would so much rather be alone and have to deal with everything myself than to have her pestering me while I’m having contractions. The thought of this makes me downright stabby. I was much happier when I thought I’d get to enjoy my day to myself. I could be napping right now! Then, I could have woken up after my rest and ate lunch from the savory dinner leftovers that I made last night (fabulous baked chicken breasts stuffed with tomato slices, mozzarella cheese and rosemary, which my husband had declared were “Excellent” between mouthfuls). Watched some old Simpsons episodes or even a cheesy American movie from my DVD collection. All this is ruined. Well, perhaps I could still watch my DVDs but I’m just too angry now. I don’t understand why she just won’t fuck off and why my husband seems to have fallen into a spell of amnesia regarding my wishes for some privacy before the baby comes and I never, ever get to sleep again. But hey, it’s good for HER to come over and annoy the living shit out of a ready-to-pop pregnant woman who just wants to be left alone and watch movies in her own native language of English and not exhaust herself further trying to talk to someone who is as exciting as drying paint in a language that will take her more than just 6 months to master. SERENITY NOW!

Pregnancy Annoyances

A very annoyed and pregnant me stands in front of the Shanghai Stadium in February of 2011, giving my husband the look of death because my feet hurt from walking and I have to pee yet again.

As my pregnancy draws to an end with my little one ready to pop on out of here at any moment, I can’t help but think about the things that I’ve loved about being pregnant. How fresh-faced my skin has looked. How shiny and thick my hair has become. My gigantic boobs. And most rewarding of all, how amazing it feels when my baby moves around inside my belly.  I try to think of these positives in this last month where everything I do is a struggle just to stay comfortable. 

Overall, I’ve enjoyed the experience of being pregnant. Though I could definitely have dealt without the roller coaster of emotions brought on by my hormones. Suddenly, sweet songs make me sob. Going from anger to hysterical laughter in .5 seconds. And the general feeling of constantly being agitated. That’s been the worst by far. I am not usually this easy to annoy. But throughout my entire pregnancy, I’ve had a tendency to be one grouchy gal.

In an email with my friend Chrystal who was kind enough to listen to my complaints about my MIL and share how her own experiences were when she was pregnant with her son, she summed it up quite perfectly. She said something to the effect of, “I never thought that someone’s good intentions would irritate me so much.” It really struck a chord with me because we all know from many of my previous posts what the most irritating thing has been in my life over the last 9 months…MY MIL! Everything she has done has grated on my last, poor, raw nerve. Clearly, she takes the cake on my list of things that have greatly annoyed me during my pregnancy. So now that we’ve got that out of the way, what are the less obvious annoyances?

Moronic comments from strangers.

Before we moved to China, while still in Korea, when I was just starting to show, random strangers would come up and ask me (in Korean) how far along I was. I would answer and then they would say something like, “Wow, you’re really big for x amount of months pregnant.” So, I’d ask them their age. And then I’d tell them, “Wow, you’re really stupid for x amount of years old.” Every woman’s body is different. So every woman will carry differently. Some bellies pop out earlier than others. The people of Asia tend to assume that all Americans are just fat. What they don’t realize is that most Asian women have longer torsos and therefore, more space to accommodate a baby before their bellies pop out.  They also don’t realize that in our culture, saying something like this is considered quite rude.

Even worse, foolish comments from your own friends.

Speaking of rude comments, it seems men in our own culture are quite idiotic themselves when it comes to their pregnant friends. Yes, you know who you are, fellas! It seems my guy friends fancy themselves comedians with comments like, “Wow! You’re huge!” and “Are you carrying a litter in there?” on my Facebook page. My grandpa always said to “consider the source.” So, when I do, I realize that my guy friends who think they are funny must be insecure with themselves. After all, what else could it mean when they make a comment like that and they weigh more than I do while I am carrying another life form inside my body?

Comment bombs.

What is a comment bomb? It’s when you have a comment thread going on your Facebook page about a certain topic and then, out of nowhere, one of your friends randomly comments on that thread about something completely unrelated. With my pregnant hormones, this one annoys the living daylights out of me. Stay on topic! Or at least start that way and segue. Otherwise, start a new comment on my page or email me about it. It just drives me absolutely nuts!

Heartburn. EVERYDAY.

I was lucky. I had only had heartburn twice in my whole life before becoming pregnant. Now, it is a daily occurrence. That and vurps. You know, when you burp and vomit a little? I don’t know the technical term for it but I call it ‘vurp,’ meaning ‘vomit burp.’ Some nights, it keeps me up more than the baby’s kicking and my husband’s snoring combined. 

 

Clicking noises.

I love my husband very much but he is the biggest offender of this. He likes to click his pen open and closed. And even more so, he likes to make a clicking sound with his tongue while he reads, uses the computer or watches TV. It is so completely distracting when I am trying to read or write. He’s endured a few episodes of my outbursts of the “WILL YOU JUST BE FUCKING QUIET? HUH? HUH? HUH?” kind which makes him a saint, but that sound has me literally jump right out of my skin.

 

People with too many cumbersome items taking the bus.

In Korea, we had the subway. Here, one is being built but it will take a few more years until it is complete. So our options are buses or taxis for transport. My husband desperately wants to learn to drive but I’ve begged him not to learn here. People here are the absolute worst drivers I have ever seen, even worse than in Mexico! I don’t mind the bus here despite it often smells. People here are rather nice to pregnant women and will jump right up and give you their seat. In Korea, it was almost always another woman who gave up her seat while the men just sat there uselessly. But here, almost every time I take the bus anywhere, there is always some jackass who has huge bags full of vegetables or a massive stroller that just has to squish their way onto the bus, making it impossible for others to get on or off quickly and easily. Taxis are not that expensive here at all. If you’ve got that much shit, just spend the money and take a taxi! It’s worth it!

And perhaps the most annoying thing, staring.

America is a country made up of foreigners. Most Americans don’t bat an eye when they see people from different countries because our country is made up of all kinds of people from all kinds of places. But in China, people only know Chinese people. Or at very least, other Asians. So when they see white people, a great many of them stare. Add a black person and they are transfixed. And some of the older people just stare when they see my husband and me together because they cannot understand a mixed relationship. I swear, people stared much less in Korea. Maybe it’s because they stare more here or maybe it’s my hormones but I just get so agitated when people gape at me open-mouthed like a bunch of yokels. This is why my husband taught me to say, “Ni de yi ci kan bei ren ma?” Which means, “Is this your first time looking at a white person?” He also recently taught me, “Bu guan ni de shi,” which is the rudest way to say “mind your own business” and “bu yao kan le” which means “don’t look at me.” All of these have been the perfect remedy for this kind of annoyance. As for everything else, I am hoping my hormones balance out and that having my precious baby in my arms turns my frown upside down.