PMS post on the In-laws

I should be censored. I should not even post when I am PMS-ing… A mental and physical muzzle for all conversations during this delicate psychotic period should be administered. But there is no warden for my words and thoughts spilling out in black and white.

Here I go typing away about my bad behavior last night.

In any marriage “the in-laws are a touchy thing. Different parenting customs and family dynamics make for um”… shall we say interesting discussion.

Cross-cultural marriages multiply the dynamics. Customs are far more “exotic” and sometimes scary. Including giving raw eggs to infant. Yep! seen that with my own eyes.

When you add hormonal imbalance and anger…with a Capital “A” it becomes out of control.

Lets make it a little bit more interesting by throwing in a little home remodeling and a bonafide, certified, gets shots once a month at a looney bin,  schizophrenic Aunt!! Yep! all that!

Honestly, when I put it all in perspective, I was quite polite.

Let me set the stage a little more. It was a cold rainy day. We, my husband and I went to the village to work on Baba and Deda’s house. Munchkin in the care of the in-laws at house not far away.

When we arrive at the house being renovated, I am left with a bare minimum of work. Work I try to accomplish is stopped and I realized in this cold, damp house there is nothing for me to do but watch. I am not a voyeur! Soon, I head back to the house.

At the front entrance, I see the Sister-in- Law’s shoes in the shoe pile at the front door.  (Because, Serbia is much more like Asia than Western Europe thanks to the Turks.) No one told me she was coming. I hate that. And Munchkin’s Aunt is one of my least fav people in the world. The kind that thinks everyone should buy her whatever she wants,,, and I mean like Uggs, Burberry, etc. While she goes to college in a city for Over 10 years!! No job and doesn’t help with the family farm. AT ALL! But she will take everything she can from the family. I am not exaggerating!

She is thirty, and her parents are still paring for her to live away. That is mostly, because she is horrible and they don’t want her near. Sadly, that is not PMS mean-ness. it is the reality. They have called the cops on her for harassment. Last time she came for Christmas, Papa tried to move home to his parents. They wouldn’t have him. And there are two free bedrooms.

When the Aunt appears and I become a fire breathing dragon. and it happened. I kept the flames in. Smoke curled from my nostrils… but, a dragon can’t help that. She was cuddling with my sleeping munchkin. And, her arrival had put the munchkins nap off two hours. GRRR!

I sit on the chair by the fire warming up, Baba goes to take a nap. Begins snoring quickly. I don’t blame her. She does the lions share of the work, and is no doubt exhausted!

Papa, fat and lazy, has his chair pulled to the center of the room watching T.V., volume all the way up like a king. Munchkin plays with the crazy aunt. I am thankful for my book.

It is not long before King Grandpa begins to incite munchkin to wake Baba…. I stop her. He does it again louder. and I stop her. Then he is doing it himself. He succeeds. I say quietly, but loud enough, “Glupino”… it means stupid, and I am sure he heard. Soon after, I am sure he was steaming that someone dared call the king stupid in his own home. He left his throne to go out into the cold for quite sometime.

His crazy daughter says nothing. She could care less if the women who makes her life of unrealistic luxury sleeps. In fact, I have seen her hit her mother repeatedly when she was sleeping so she could talk to her. Yep, She is that sweet to her mother. This is the kind of stuff that makes me smolder!

You see, I do love my Mother-in-law, and I would love to protect her. But she can’t stand up for  herself. And she works like a team of oxen for her family. and they don’t appreciate it. Actually, they abuse her. It kills me!  And like a truly delusional person, she makes excuses for their bad behavior!  When I talked to Mama about Papa waking her, she said he was just playing. When I related the story later to the hubby, he said the same thing. When I asked him how he would like that… the excuse became clearly an excuse for bad behavior.

Three hours after I arrived at Baba and Deda’s, the husband returned. he ate, and asked if I was ready to go. I was!

Then, Munchkin, didn’t want to come home! She wanted to stay with the insane aunt, emotionally blind Baba, and the constantly abusive Father-in-Law. Of course. I can’t imagine why the sweet little tot wouldn’t want to come home with a fire breathing dragon… lol. And. to be fair, she was being spoiled like a pig being fattened like no other!! who wouldn’t stay in a place you get coddled, tons of presents and can do ANYTHING you want and never hear the word “no”.  Seriously. I would chose the crazies too!

Munchkin insisted on staying, Hubby and the family backed her and I was beaten… I hugged the munchkin and said goodbye to the crazy aunt with eyes that really said. I HATE YOU! If looks could kill, she would have been flat-lined instantly.

The entire drive home and all night long, I wanted to go back for her. Still, she stayed… This morning I am still frustrated that she is in that environment.  And she will stay til tomorrow.  WTFrench toast!

Also, ee will probably have to return Friday and Sunday.. It is Orthodox Easter.  FUN!

Friday we are supposed to decorate eggs… Not like you do in the States. Dipping them for a second. and adding colors like paint. No,, this means boiling them for hours. The dye is poor and the eggs are dark. So, that really means spending needless time in the village that can’t be spent on home renovation. UGH!  And eating not Fast food, but food of fasting. YUK to both!

No one knows that the fasting talked about in the Bible wasn’t beans, it was the yummy vegetation of the Mediterranean! (The hate comments for talking bad about the “Blessed” magic fasting beans that produce gas and painful constipation rather than a bean stalk to the sky are coming… I can tell.) In fact, here they don’t know much, more than that the calendar says it is Easter. That does make me a bit more mad.  Tradition, rather than knowledge. The tip of the iceberg.

I realize the irony. The angry, hateful person who is supposed to be a sweet loving Christian. I know, I am no perfect. Never will be. Right now I am over all of this! Going out for a walk to improve my mood.

End rant.

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Culture shock is like PMS

Culture shock is like PMS. really. If you have never had PMS let me explain. Many of the simptoms are similar. 
Crankiness

Exhaustion

Overwhelming sadness for no reason

crying over stupid little things

exhaustion

misunderstanding

fighting with family, friends, partners

general ill at ease

Nothing seems to be right. The world is off kilter. ugh! disaster.

 

I got this idea as I was exploring the things that were frustrating me. I was once again laying down with the little monster, who was grouchy, fighting sleep, and sucking down milk like a frat boy chugs a beer. The washing machine was making thunderous noise through the closed bathroom door daring to fully wake the nearly sleeping child.

Thousands of things on my mental “To Do” list spiraling through my thoughts as the Christmas deadline looms. There is a Christmas video that needs work. Ornaments that “Need” to be made. Trips to town for various things and a constant nagging baby that is thrown in just to make things a bit more challenging. Fully knowing that I will have to put that all on hold to drape the laundry over the radiators befor anthing else gets done… and yet what do I do? I stop and write this blog. Shooting myself in the foot, by stopping to blog, having a personal pity party and a a bit of psycho-therapy all at once.

Always causing more of a strain on my life now is the Language. There is the language barrier continuously complicates things further. Making a simple trip to the store or post office into a stressful necessity. The language itself is probably the most exhausting factor.

Language is also a factor in dealing with relatives. A mother-in-law, in particular who is nothing but sweet, kind and understanding, but annoys the H- E- Double toothpicks out of me. Listening to an endless string of incomprehensible words that are always louder than necessary. A megaphone has nothing on her. Sometimes I feel like I am at a stopped at railroad intersection that holds the longest train of Words ever. Without the fun of counting the cars.

There are also household difficulties. I am so pleased we do not live with the in-laws as many locals do, but this time, mama has stayed with us almost enough to make it seem as though we are living with her.
Our home here is decidedly Serbian.

Things I have gotten used to include but are just the tip of the iceberg are: Tuning the bathroom light on before entering, taking shoes of at the door, wearing slippers around the house constantly, and having 7 course dinners every night are the kind of differences I am referring too.

I may be making this a regular post or… it’s very own Blog. It really has nothing to do with Serbia. Just with living internationally and the hardships involved. Whether you are living outside your home country or have done so previously, you will be able to relate!