First day of school... and a family rant...

For Bean, anyway. I have to wait another nine days.
We did get the teacher we requested. And she seems nice enough - though I did that nervous talking thing. In my head I'm screaming "Shutup! Shutupshutupshutup!!!" But my mouth just kept on moving. So the teacher thinks I'm a very nice lunatic. Great.
The snotty girls are not in her class, though, and there are only 22 kids so that's good.
She had a really good day and seems really happy that school is back in session.
I am so ready for classes to start. I know that seems really weird considering how crazybusy I've been, but I miss my friends from class and once the semester starts I'll have a better idea of what is expected of me. And, one of my classes is basically a practicum support class. That might be helpful right about now.

So what should we have for dinner?
That would be the most discussed question in our house. When Bean's not home we tend to go feral when we can't figure it out - I eat ceral and my husband eats... you know, whatever guys eat. I haven't been to the store in awhile and our reserves are low and I am really (really really really) tired of fast food. It's crappy, it's not good for us, and after awhile it makes me feel like I'm failing my family. Which I am.

This weekend, Bean and I are going to one of those "make it and take it, meals for a month" places. For just over $100 and just under 2 hours we can make 12 dinners that freeze well. We did this last year and we were all surprised at how good they really were. They have all of the ingredients there and cut up and stuff and you just follow the recipe and move on to the next station. The coolest part is that if the recipe calls for something you don't stock at home normally, like lime juice, you don't have to go out and buy a big bottle for the 1/4 tsp. that you need. And, you don't have to cook, just defrost and bake.

That will certainly help... out schedules are just so nuts! On practicum days I'll leave the house at 7:30 am and not get home until 7:30 pm... I miss having weekends off, but my weekends are allowing me to use mornings for practicum without eating up all of my vacation time. And my poor husband is spending his time off helping his parents. His mother called him last night complaining that she had so much housework to do that she just didn't know what to do and she can't sleep until it's done. So he went over there at ten o'clock at night and do you know what she needed him to do? Sweep the basement stairs. The basement stairs that nobody uses. That was what could not wait another second. That's just another reason that she can not ever come over to our house. Ever. She would fall down and die if she saw how messy we are. (And again with the busy... we are so dead at the end of the day that it seems like too much work to undress for bed, let alone dishes and laundry and dusting, oh my!).

She also has this way of making sure that everything is as misinterpreted as possible. Her best friend's daughter is like a daughter to her... and she's convinced that we won't get along. (We've met, like, twice. Oh, and she's convinced that nobody could ever get along with me. I'm apparently not a nice person, too "worldly" - which I think translates as "snobby" or something). So she was at the hospital with us, and she's a very lovely person. Two things did happen, though... I brought lunch. Sandwiches, you know. The sandwich that I am in lust with is a turkey sandwich on tomato bread with bacon and gouda cheese. (Sounds yummy, non?) You would have thought I was eating escargot. Nobody had heard of gouda. (It's just a cheese people. Seriously). Everybody made a face at the gouda. Says my mother in law, "The name alone makes it sound bad." It's GOUDA for crying out loud! I didn't bring in some esoteric little Italian cheese or anything. So the friend's daughter was brave enough to taste the bit that I broke off and everyone watched her like she was going to fall down and die because of the crazy-town poison cheese I brought. She liked the cheese and they all relaxed but they were still suspicious. Then someone noticed that my bread was sort of pink.

I can't even go into it.

We can never have any kind of asian food because if I broke out chopsticks they would probably try to have our marriage annulled on the grounds that I didn't disclose that I am an un-American snob who acts like she thinks she's better than everyone else.
I don't, by the way, think I'm better than everyone else.

The other thing was that at some point pretty early on in the whole waiting-at-the-hospital experience I pulled out the sock I'm working on for Bean. The friend sort of laughed at the fact that I was knitting. Later, the husband and I were talking about it and I mentioned it - in a totally not serious way. Everyone laughs at me for knitting - until I knit something for them. Of course, your chances of receiving something knitted by me are reduced by your laughter so figure that one out...
ANYWAY, so the husband is over at her house last night and she's worrying that the friend and I don't get along (we're fine, let it go) and the husband says, (in a joking way), "Well she did make fun of the knitting." So she's on the phone with the friend a few minutes later and the husband overhears her tell the fried that I'm really upset because she made fun of my knitting. The husband grabbed the phone and set her straight...
What the hell???

And who gives a crap if this friend and I get along or not? In the entire time I've known my husband I've seen this person four times. We're actually a lot alike, which means we're both way too busy to hang out and be best friends anyway.

I'm so glad I had my "starter marriage" with the really impossible in-laws. Otherwise this would seriously make me crazy and I would keep trying to fix it.

My mantra with the crazy ex-in-laws? "I think I can, I think I can." I couldn't. And now they think I'm the best thing since sliced bread and they tell the new wife how much they loved me.

My mantra with the in-laws now? "Two tears in a bucket, motherfuck it." (Thank you John Berendt for the fantastic line). It's not that I am not nice and pleasant, it's just that I'm not going to kill myself and work so hard for their approval. I don't need it. My husband loves me for who and what I am and that's all that really matters anyway. Is it easier when people get along? Absolutely. I wouldn't do anything to provoke them, but I'm also not taking any of their crap.

Rant over.
Thank you.