I'm not really sure how to start this post as I am still in a wee bit of shock that this actually happened. I am quite certain a plague of biblical proportions has descended upon our house. This realization, the realization about biblical plague and our house, is really quite disturbing for a few reasons. One: it proves to me that all that time in Sunday School and Catechism were totally useless because two: I had no idea that there were 10 plagues. I thought that there were seven. Seven I can handle because we have been through five. Seven meant we were almost done. But 10??? 10 has me..well, scared poop less (especially since I found a spider on my curtain this morning)!
It started out as one. Then two. Then about half a dozen. And finally, it ended with a swarm that chased me and the three kids, as well as my friend J and her two babes, out of the house... for two hours... in 80 degree heat! Bees.The spiky tailed devil. Killers of Thomas J. in "My Girl". Things that give my friend J goose bumps the size of Michigan.
The day started out like any Wednesday would, which means "well enough". My human alarm clock, aka The Babe, aka the "The girl who hates for her mother to sleep past the butt crack of dawn", decided to sleep a little late prompting us to arrive right at 8am (so..late!) to the Big Kid's school. Wednesday is the short day of the week for school and usually we have Thai lessons that day. However, because the Big Kid and his friend, Little J, have been begging for a play date, I canceled Thai lessons and set up a play date with Little J and his mommy J. So, after we pick up the boys at school, load them into their various spots in the SUV and golf cart, we head over to our house for the play date.
The play date went very well for the first half . The kids played well together, Middle boy only had a few melt downs, Babe only pitched a few fits. It was great! Then all hell broke loose. As I said earlier, it started out as one. Little J pointed out to his mom that there was a fly on my curtain. She of course turns around, sees the "fly" and says "That's okay honey. Thailand has flies. No big deal". So, I turn around a few seconds later and there were two of them. Okay. Just a fly. No big deal. Umm, no. Very big deal because when I went to kill them they were bees. Again, no big deal right? Maybe they got in when we walked in. Totally logical assumption.
Eventually we relocated to the living room because the babe and the middle boys were playing in there and there was no telling what they would get into. Eventually I had to walk back into "The Bee room" and noticed that it felt way hotter then it should, especially since I had just turned on the air con. And that is when I saw them.. Oh them. Them, them, and more them. So, calmly I walked into the room where J was and asked her if she could come and take a look "at something". She walks in and says "OMG!". And yep, that pretty much sums it up. OMG!! As I was debating on what to do, outside of the bee room, I decided to walk back in and see what was up. And boy did I see! They had multiplied and were swarming around my lights. This time, slightly more freaked out, I walked into the kitchen which adjoined the bee room and saw that they were in there too. They were also in my other dining room. And they had multiplied yet again in the Bee room. As calmly as two mothers can, J and I gathered the kids and took off out the house.
To say that my good day turned bad is quite possibly the biggest understatement of the week. I will spare you many of the other details of that day (my exact wording when I abandoned my Thai sensibilities of kindness and friendliness and opened up a good old fashioned can of American verbal whoop-ass on my landlord, for example). After several heated, non progress making conversations with the non-English speaking handy man about them trying to use poison to kill the bees (Not going to happen around my kids!), J's driver ever so nicely took over for me with communicating. Apparently yelling loudly at a Thai in a language that they don't understand doesn't really get you anywhere. They just smile at you bigger then normal... which of course pisses off this girl like you wouldn't believe!
I do have to say though that when I called my hubby about the poison the conversation that followed was quite funny looking back on it. Apparently in my panicked state I suggested that instead of poison that they wrangle to bees like they would do cattle. This apparently confused my hubby a great deal because in a very surprised tone he says "you want them to wrangle the bees? How exactly do you propose they do that?" Well.. with a net and a rope of course! After finding out how they killed them, wrangling doesn't seem all that far out there though. Their solution??? Rolled up TV fliers for the local cable company! High tech stuff man! Speaking of solutions, when I asked them where they came from they informed me that there was a hole in the roof. When I proposed the very logical (well, I thought it was logical) solution of just closing the hole, they informed that no, they could not do that. What? Why not? Because then the bees would have no where to live? Correct me if I am wrong here, but we, the HUMAN occupants of this house, are the ones paying rent, right? Not the bees.
So, that was my day in a nut shell. Fun times! Hopefully plagues 6-10 decide not to visit us... EVER, because I am quite certain that my crazy card is totally full. Here's to hoping for a better week with no more creepy surprises! Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Room for Two at the Loony Bin, Please!
I am quite certain that when the hubby and I are repatriated that they will strongly suggest that we both check into some sort of clinic for the mentally insane. You see, when they repatriate someone they give you this survey that you have to fill out, or at least I think they do, and I can tell you right now that ours will be filled with all sort of crazy, crazy, stuff. Really and truly I am beginning to question our mental health. Let me explain...
If you have been following this blog you have read all about my gecko phobia and how they have tried to kill me on more then one occasion and you may also recall Remy the Rat. Well my friends, they are both back. Or at least their kin are now here. I really and truly thought that by allowing Remy to live that we would come into some of that good Thai karma that I have been hearing all about, but it seems that by killing a gecko (multiple geckos actually) that I totally screw up the karma thing. And we now seem to be paying for it in a big way!
A few days ago I bought some bananas. Some fantastic mini Thai bananas! Boy were they delicious. Apparently Emile, Remy's older, fatter brother, decided that he too liked my yummy Thai bananas because when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast there was a half eaten one on my counter. Now, if you know my kids you know that my middle leaves food in various places and in various states of half eateness (i know that isn't a word, but I claim mental!), and in all likelihood, it could have been him. However, my counters are really high and my son doesn't gnaw at food, nor does he eat the peelings of bananas. Oh, he also poops a lot bigger (yeah, rat poop on my counter!). So, of course I freak. I mean seriously, I freaked when there was a tiny little bug in my flour so as you can imagine this incident was very traumatic for me. Between the crying, screaming, and asking God to forgive me for my sins and to stop all of these terrible injustices from happening again, I finally managed to call my hubby and demand (as nicely as possible) that he call the landlord and tell her of this "incident".
Before I continue, I should probably tell you a little about how the Thai people operate. They don't! Or at least that seems to be true in a lot of cases. They have this live and let live attitude that pretty much prevents anything meaningful from happening. They just let things go.
Okay, now that we have that established, the landlord sent over the handy man (who totally speaks good English but pretends not to!). I tell him what is going on and he takes a look and decided that he would need to come back and seal up the pass through from the maids quarters into the house. Okay, great! Action! His other solution was to put a freaking trap ON MY COUNTER! Not really a trap so much as a darn cage. Umm, no. Not EVEN going to happen my friend. We compromised by him putting it on the counter in the maids quarters. Some good that did since he didn't even bait the darn thing. Seriously, did he think the rat was just going to take a stroll into the cage for the heck of it???
That night things got really bad. And by really bad, I mean I walk into the boy's room and find rat poo on the big kids bed. And on the side of the bed. And on his sheets. Seriously, my skin is crawling just thinking about it. Thankfully the hubby was home this time and witnessed first hand my reaction (see previous paragraph!) and knew that it was time for him to take action. You see, when handy man came over I informed him that there was an opening somewhere outside that was allowing them to come into the house. I told him to walk the perimeter and find said hole, and close said hole. He said okay and that he would be back in 50 minutes. He never came. In fact, it took several heated phone calls just to get him to come to the house to finally seal up the pass through. Live and let live!
So, the hubby asks me if I know how to work the bait less trap that was left behind by the brainless handy man. Umm no. No I don't. And no I don't want to know, thankyouverymuch! Thankfully our driver was still hanging around and helped the hubby bait the trap with chicken nuggets, and then informed us that we would need to hole up in our bedroom (the only room not touched by Emile) by putting a towel across our door. Great! Fantastic! So much fun! Anyway, I didn't sleep very well that night, to say the least. The next morning however, I did get some relief when the hubby came in and announced that Emile was gone and any evidence of him was gone as well. Boy was he ever wrong.
As I am sitting in the living room, crocheting a Christmas Tree skirt and drinking my coffee, my babe decided to go sit by our back window. She likes playing there and does so, often. So, I walk over to open the curtains for her and get a huge, very unwelcome, surprise. They were droppings everywhere. I mean at least 20-30, plus more right outside the window. Infestation is probably putting it mild. I do believe that WE are living in THEIR place and not the other way around. So, again, I call the hubby and let him know what is going on and that I was packing our bags because we were about to be calling the Hilton our home. Thankfully, at least this time, there was a mix up with our temp driver and he never left the office where hubby works to come and get me. Since I had grocery shopping to do, the hubby volunteered to come home early and watch the kids and clean up the rat poop.
After the cleaning we decided to stick it out. At least for the time being. We set more traps and have yet to see any more even though we have seen their poop. We did however see more geckos. The hubby almost died of a heart attack as did I, in the same, so it wasn't a good day. In fact, as I was sweeping, one of those suckers decided to run across my foot and he died a very violent death. As I am whacking him with my hot pink broom and screaming "I told you not to mess with me! WHAT! You want some more! Tell your friends you .....!", the hubby quietly calls from the other room "Hon, you okay in there? Did you find the gecko?" That man knows me too well!
As for our mental well being, well, that seems to be slipping hour by hour (see paragraph about the gecko). That night as we were laying in bed talking about our day, the subject of him catching Emile comes up. Since we aren't Buddhist and since we do in fact believe in killing the rats, we start talking about the various ways for a rat in a trap to die. He was trying to think of ways to get the rat out of the trap so that he could run him over in the golf cart. I simply informed him that a better way, a way not to use the mom mobile, would be to stick the whole trap in a bucket of water and drown the sucker. There were various others ways of rat death that were discussed, but after typing just that out I do believe that we are now one Fruit Loop short of a box. Find a happy place, find a HAPPY PLACE!!!
Well, I guess I had better get going. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
If you have been following this blog you have read all about my gecko phobia and how they have tried to kill me on more then one occasion and you may also recall Remy the Rat. Well my friends, they are both back. Or at least their kin are now here. I really and truly thought that by allowing Remy to live that we would come into some of that good Thai karma that I have been hearing all about, but it seems that by killing a gecko (multiple geckos actually) that I totally screw up the karma thing. And we now seem to be paying for it in a big way!
A few days ago I bought some bananas. Some fantastic mini Thai bananas! Boy were they delicious. Apparently Emile, Remy's older, fatter brother, decided that he too liked my yummy Thai bananas because when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast there was a half eaten one on my counter. Now, if you know my kids you know that my middle leaves food in various places and in various states of half eateness (i know that isn't a word, but I claim mental!), and in all likelihood, it could have been him. However, my counters are really high and my son doesn't gnaw at food, nor does he eat the peelings of bananas. Oh, he also poops a lot bigger (yeah, rat poop on my counter!). So, of course I freak. I mean seriously, I freaked when there was a tiny little bug in my flour so as you can imagine this incident was very traumatic for me. Between the crying, screaming, and asking God to forgive me for my sins and to stop all of these terrible injustices from happening again, I finally managed to call my hubby and demand (as nicely as possible) that he call the landlord and tell her of this "incident".
Before I continue, I should probably tell you a little about how the Thai people operate. They don't! Or at least that seems to be true in a lot of cases. They have this live and let live attitude that pretty much prevents anything meaningful from happening. They just let things go.
Okay, now that we have that established, the landlord sent over the handy man (who totally speaks good English but pretends not to!). I tell him what is going on and he takes a look and decided that he would need to come back and seal up the pass through from the maids quarters into the house. Okay, great! Action! His other solution was to put a freaking trap ON MY COUNTER! Not really a trap so much as a darn cage. Umm, no. Not EVEN going to happen my friend. We compromised by him putting it on the counter in the maids quarters. Some good that did since he didn't even bait the darn thing. Seriously, did he think the rat was just going to take a stroll into the cage for the heck of it???
That night things got really bad. And by really bad, I mean I walk into the boy's room and find rat poo on the big kids bed. And on the side of the bed. And on his sheets. Seriously, my skin is crawling just thinking about it. Thankfully the hubby was home this time and witnessed first hand my reaction (see previous paragraph!) and knew that it was time for him to take action. You see, when handy man came over I informed him that there was an opening somewhere outside that was allowing them to come into the house. I told him to walk the perimeter and find said hole, and close said hole. He said okay and that he would be back in 50 minutes. He never came. In fact, it took several heated phone calls just to get him to come to the house to finally seal up the pass through. Live and let live!
So, the hubby asks me if I know how to work the bait less trap that was left behind by the brainless handy man. Umm no. No I don't. And no I don't want to know, thankyouverymuch! Thankfully our driver was still hanging around and helped the hubby bait the trap with chicken nuggets, and then informed us that we would need to hole up in our bedroom (the only room not touched by Emile) by putting a towel across our door. Great! Fantastic! So much fun! Anyway, I didn't sleep very well that night, to say the least. The next morning however, I did get some relief when the hubby came in and announced that Emile was gone and any evidence of him was gone as well. Boy was he ever wrong.
As I am sitting in the living room, crocheting a Christmas Tree skirt and drinking my coffee, my babe decided to go sit by our back window. She likes playing there and does so, often. So, I walk over to open the curtains for her and get a huge, very unwelcome, surprise. They were droppings everywhere. I mean at least 20-30, plus more right outside the window. Infestation is probably putting it mild. I do believe that WE are living in THEIR place and not the other way around. So, again, I call the hubby and let him know what is going on and that I was packing our bags because we were about to be calling the Hilton our home. Thankfully, at least this time, there was a mix up with our temp driver and he never left the office where hubby works to come and get me. Since I had grocery shopping to do, the hubby volunteered to come home early and watch the kids and clean up the rat poop.
After the cleaning we decided to stick it out. At least for the time being. We set more traps and have yet to see any more even though we have seen their poop. We did however see more geckos. The hubby almost died of a heart attack as did I, in the same, so it wasn't a good day. In fact, as I was sweeping, one of those suckers decided to run across my foot and he died a very violent death. As I am whacking him with my hot pink broom and screaming "I told you not to mess with me! WHAT! You want some more! Tell your friends you .....!", the hubby quietly calls from the other room "Hon, you okay in there? Did you find the gecko?" That man knows me too well!
As for our mental well being, well, that seems to be slipping hour by hour (see paragraph about the gecko). That night as we were laying in bed talking about our day, the subject of him catching Emile comes up. Since we aren't Buddhist and since we do in fact believe in killing the rats, we start talking about the various ways for a rat in a trap to die. He was trying to think of ways to get the rat out of the trap so that he could run him over in the golf cart. I simply informed him that a better way, a way not to use the mom mobile, would be to stick the whole trap in a bucket of water and drown the sucker. There were various others ways of rat death that were discussed, but after typing just that out I do believe that we are now one Fruit Loop short of a box. Find a happy place, find a HAPPY PLACE!!!
Well, I guess I had better get going. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Well, that lasted a whole two seconds!
Not really. It actually lasted a whole three days. Three days! Yep, after three days I am now officially maid-less. Now, I realize that to some saying things like "my driver" and "my maid" seem snotty and yuppy, but I assure you that in Thailand these are staples where Expat families are concerned. Drivers are a necessity and maids are a luxury that you simply cannot afford to pass up. Well, it looks like this girl is now giving up her Thailand luxury.
Friday was Khun T's first day working for us and all seemed to go well. She walked in with a big smile on her face and was ready to get to work once I showed her where all the cleaning supplies could be found. She did her job, asked if I was pleased, then left right a 5pm, money in hand. It seemed like the beginning of a great relationship. Even though she didn't speak English and even though she wasn't nearly as good at charades as Khun P was, I was sure that we would get there. I'm saying this a lot lately and I swear that my pride is suffering because of it, but again, sadly, I was wrong.
So here we are on Monday and Monday was okay. I mean, she came on time, did her job and all, but she left at 3pm. Khun P never, ever, left a minute before 5pm. In fact, sometimes she would stay a few minutes late just to put socks away. Khun T left an entire load in the wash with instructions for me to change them when done. Umm, okay. What exactly I am paying you for, Khun T??? Oh, well. Maybe she had something more important to do. Benefit of the doubt and all.
Wednesday was the real kicker for me. You see, clothes are my absolute least favorite chore to do. I hate washing. I hate drying. I hate folding. I HATE putting away. In my ideal world I would only have to do clothes thirteen times a year. Now why thirteen times? Why not once or twice? Why thirteen? Well, I have it all figured out. You see, the way I figure it in my ideal world I would own 400 pairs of underwear (one for every day of the year and spares of course) plus enough clothing for every day of the month with a few spares. I would devote one day every month (plus January 2 for undies, so 13 total) to washing my laundry. With five people in my house it would be quite the chore only doing it on those days, but only having to do it once (twice in January because we can't forget the undies!) would be doable.
So the kicker. Well, on Wednesday morning when I went to get the big kid dressed for school he had no clean uniforms. Why? Well, because Khun T didn't wash them all and the ones she did wash she ruined. Apparently she didn't know how to use the washer and put the detergent right in the washer on the front loader. Both "clean" shirts had oily stains on them that I know were not on them originally. Plus, she shrunk one of the shirts leaving it shaped like a square instead a t-shirt rectangle. If that wasn't bad enough, when I went to get middle boy dressed his shirt was covered in the same stains. So, after digging through big kid's back pack for his back up clothing, and after digging through middle boys drawers for a non stained shirt, I was pretty pissed because we were late to school. And well, she ruined uniforms that I JUST PAID OFF!
After I got back from school I was debating on how to fire Khun T. Should I do it before work and not have her work that day? If I do that, should I be nice and pay her for at least coming in? Should I do it after she works? How??? I've never fired anyone. I've had people quit and I have had other people fire people, but I personally have never had to do it. I can't do "sad eyes" and people on TV always look so sad when they get fired, so I knew it would be worse when done in person. Once she walked in with her sweet smile though, my "how" turned into "okay, benefit of doubt. I'll giver her another chance". I was totally ready to cave, plus she was due to cook, and since I can't pass up good food, she was staying put.
After debating all morning, I had finally decided that if Khun T was going to stay that not only did I need to set expectations on her hours, but to teach her how to wash clothes. If I were going to pay her the same as Khun P she was going to do the same and stay the same hours. I knew that the hours thing would be a big one because she cooked my "going to be served at 6pm" dinner at noon. And then left it on the counter. All day long. Turns out, she was trying to skip out on me again and that was her way of ensuring that happened.
At around 4:30 she took her "I'm done" stance in the kitchen and waited for her pay. Right after I hand her the money (plus extra for cooking) we start our very messed up version of charades. At first she made it sound, and look like, that since I paid her extra that she didn't want me to pay her the next week. When I repeated this back to her and then acted out my part, she laughed and said no. After a few more tries, what she really wanted finally came across. Turns out, Khun T had somewhere to go the next day and she wanted to me pay her not only that days wage, but the next day and the next weeks wage as well. She didn't even really ask so much as tell me that I needed to pay her. She said that she didn't have money to go to where ever it was she was going, and that I needed to pay her so that she could. Umm, okay. That didn't set well with me at all. I didn't even know this woman at that point and it took about 5 minutes of back and forth to even get to understanding each other.
Politely I told her that I just didn't have what she wanted. Truly, I did not. Even if I had, I would not have given a total stranger what is considered a large amount of money by Thai standards. So, after all of the other stuff with the laundry, the uncleaned bathroom mirrors, the uncleaned front room floor etc., I made the very hard decision to fire her. And let me tell you, when I say "hard" I do in fact mean hard. It took about 15 minutes from start to finish to get that point across. I think she got what I was saying when I told her that we didn't need her anymore. She just didn't want to accept it. She kept saying "what, I no good??" Okay, that made me almost cave because she totally combined it with the sad eyes. After calling not one, but TWO, English/Thai speakers, she finally understood and accepted what I was saying. Instead of telling her that she was no good I simply told her that we wanted to do the cleaning ourselves (to which the English/Thai speaker laughed. See next paragraph). I mean come on, who can look a person, a very sad eyed person, in those sad eyes, and tell them that they are no good??? I sure can't, that's for sure.
So, again, I am now maid-less. And since I have three children and no help (domestic help that is, as my hubby is fantastic at child rearing) Thai people think I'm crazy. I remember telling someone once that I didn't have a nanny or a maid back home and they thought that was nuts. She said "how did you do it?" By the grace of God, really.
Well, I guess that about does it for me this evening. Hope all is well.
Kristen
Friday was Khun T's first day working for us and all seemed to go well. She walked in with a big smile on her face and was ready to get to work once I showed her where all the cleaning supplies could be found. She did her job, asked if I was pleased, then left right a 5pm, money in hand. It seemed like the beginning of a great relationship. Even though she didn't speak English and even though she wasn't nearly as good at charades as Khun P was, I was sure that we would get there. I'm saying this a lot lately and I swear that my pride is suffering because of it, but again, sadly, I was wrong.
So here we are on Monday and Monday was okay. I mean, she came on time, did her job and all, but she left at 3pm. Khun P never, ever, left a minute before 5pm. In fact, sometimes she would stay a few minutes late just to put socks away. Khun T left an entire load in the wash with instructions for me to change them when done. Umm, okay. What exactly I am paying you for, Khun T??? Oh, well. Maybe she had something more important to do. Benefit of the doubt and all.
Wednesday was the real kicker for me. You see, clothes are my absolute least favorite chore to do. I hate washing. I hate drying. I hate folding. I HATE putting away. In my ideal world I would only have to do clothes thirteen times a year. Now why thirteen times? Why not once or twice? Why thirteen? Well, I have it all figured out. You see, the way I figure it in my ideal world I would own 400 pairs of underwear (one for every day of the year and spares of course) plus enough clothing for every day of the month with a few spares. I would devote one day every month (plus January 2 for undies, so 13 total) to washing my laundry. With five people in my house it would be quite the chore only doing it on those days, but only having to do it once (twice in January because we can't forget the undies!) would be doable.
So the kicker. Well, on Wednesday morning when I went to get the big kid dressed for school he had no clean uniforms. Why? Well, because Khun T didn't wash them all and the ones she did wash she ruined. Apparently she didn't know how to use the washer and put the detergent right in the washer on the front loader. Both "clean" shirts had oily stains on them that I know were not on them originally. Plus, she shrunk one of the shirts leaving it shaped like a square instead a t-shirt rectangle. If that wasn't bad enough, when I went to get middle boy dressed his shirt was covered in the same stains. So, after digging through big kid's back pack for his back up clothing, and after digging through middle boys drawers for a non stained shirt, I was pretty pissed because we were late to school. And well, she ruined uniforms that I JUST PAID OFF!
After I got back from school I was debating on how to fire Khun T. Should I do it before work and not have her work that day? If I do that, should I be nice and pay her for at least coming in? Should I do it after she works? How??? I've never fired anyone. I've had people quit and I have had other people fire people, but I personally have never had to do it. I can't do "sad eyes" and people on TV always look so sad when they get fired, so I knew it would be worse when done in person. Once she walked in with her sweet smile though, my "how" turned into "okay, benefit of doubt. I'll giver her another chance". I was totally ready to cave, plus she was due to cook, and since I can't pass up good food, she was staying put.
After debating all morning, I had finally decided that if Khun T was going to stay that not only did I need to set expectations on her hours, but to teach her how to wash clothes. If I were going to pay her the same as Khun P she was going to do the same and stay the same hours. I knew that the hours thing would be a big one because she cooked my "going to be served at 6pm" dinner at noon. And then left it on the counter. All day long. Turns out, she was trying to skip out on me again and that was her way of ensuring that happened.
At around 4:30 she took her "I'm done" stance in the kitchen and waited for her pay. Right after I hand her the money (plus extra for cooking) we start our very messed up version of charades. At first she made it sound, and look like, that since I paid her extra that she didn't want me to pay her the next week. When I repeated this back to her and then acted out my part, she laughed and said no. After a few more tries, what she really wanted finally came across. Turns out, Khun T had somewhere to go the next day and she wanted to me pay her not only that days wage, but the next day and the next weeks wage as well. She didn't even really ask so much as tell me that I needed to pay her. She said that she didn't have money to go to where ever it was she was going, and that I needed to pay her so that she could. Umm, okay. That didn't set well with me at all. I didn't even know this woman at that point and it took about 5 minutes of back and forth to even get to understanding each other.
Politely I told her that I just didn't have what she wanted. Truly, I did not. Even if I had, I would not have given a total stranger what is considered a large amount of money by Thai standards. So, after all of the other stuff with the laundry, the uncleaned bathroom mirrors, the uncleaned front room floor etc., I made the very hard decision to fire her. And let me tell you, when I say "hard" I do in fact mean hard. It took about 15 minutes from start to finish to get that point across. I think she got what I was saying when I told her that we didn't need her anymore. She just didn't want to accept it. She kept saying "what, I no good??" Okay, that made me almost cave because she totally combined it with the sad eyes. After calling not one, but TWO, English/Thai speakers, she finally understood and accepted what I was saying. Instead of telling her that she was no good I simply told her that we wanted to do the cleaning ourselves (to which the English/Thai speaker laughed. See next paragraph). I mean come on, who can look a person, a very sad eyed person, in those sad eyes, and tell them that they are no good??? I sure can't, that's for sure.
So, again, I am now maid-less. And since I have three children and no help (domestic help that is, as my hubby is fantastic at child rearing) Thai people think I'm crazy. I remember telling someone once that I didn't have a nanny or a maid back home and they thought that was nuts. She said "how did you do it?" By the grace of God, really.
Well, I guess that about does it for me this evening. Hope all is well.
Kristen
The Day the Music Died..
Also known as "the day my maid quit". Either way, all I know is that this past Tuesday I stopped singing the little diddy about never having to clean my toilets. And yes, this does count as losing my fifth, yes fifth, employee (counting all the drivers). I'll be honest, I so did NOT see this one coming. Just last week she was talking about her former employer and how much she had to work and about the pay not being that great for the amount of work she had to do. I asked her if she felt that way about me and she said no. She liked it here because we were easy to care for. She said she liked that we didn't have a lot of "stuff" to clean around and she liked that she didn't HAVE to take care of the kids. She only stepped in to help when she was done with her work and it was really only to play with them. So, with all of that being said, I was shocked.
The last Friday that she was here she informed me that she wouldn't be in on Monday and instead would come on Tuesday because she was going to baking school in Bangkok. I knew that she had dreams of opening her own bakery (our charades and broken English conversations were very informative about her as a person), but I also thought that it wouldn't be until next year because she needed approval from the bank for her loan. It seemed like a long process so I thought I was safe from her leaving. Stupidly, I also thought that we would be the beneficiaries of her new culinary skills. Big fat WRONG!
On Tuesday, the day she quit, I walked into my bedroom to find her doing her thing and simply asked her how school went. She got this strange look on her face and says "about that..". Well, I knew right then and there that the news she was about to delivery to me was not good. Turns out I'm a bit psychic because I was right! The school in Bangkok was too far and far too expensive so she found a local alternative that was free but much more intensive. So, that meant for me that I was losing her. No two week notice. No notice at all. Just a simple "madam, I no come to work no more", and that was the end of her employment. She offered her friend up as a replacement, stayed throughout the day, then left with a promise to see me on Wednesday as her "official" last day.
Wednesday went well enough. She was here all day, watched the babe while I did my Thai lessons, and then cooked us yet another fab meal. At around 4pm she offered to call her friend so that I could meet her. Stupid me forgot to ask BEFORE I said yes as to whether or not said friend spoke any English. Khun P's English was about as little as I could handle for as much as we interacted. Anyway, after the friend shows up we all just stand there looking at one another because come to find out, possible new maid doesn't speak a lick of English! After a few nervous laughs were exchanged, Khun P did the talking. She told her the pay and said she would show her what to do during the day. At this point I actually broke down and begged her to stay promising her more money. I was weak, I admit. Unfortunately for me she didn't take it. Apparently "bakery" wasn't code for "I want more money". Anyway, she asked whether or not I wanted new maid to cook which prompted me to make a very childish face. After she scolded me a bit for doing so, Khun P assured me that new maid was a good cook. Possibly even better then herself.
So, after she showed new maid what to do during the day, we said our tearful goodbyes with her promising to come by and visit and bring us cookies. Whether she will actually do this or not, I don't know. All I do know is that my new diddy is now "Somebody That I Used to Know", which my loving hubby finds ever so amusing although somewhat accurate ( I broke down our relationship for him in song form. It was quite funny but you really had to be there to appreciate it). I really like Khun P and she will be sadly missed, but I do wish her much success.
You know what I find so crazy about this whole experience was that I was really against having a maid. Turns out however, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had pictured. I thought she would be all up in my space and intrusive and trying to tell me what to do with my kids. She wasn't any, or didn't do, any, of those things. She was quiet helpful and very funny. She made the days here in Thailand a lot less lonely. Oh well. Fly Khun P, fly! I will always remember you as "Somebody That I Used to Know"!
I'll update soon with a report on new maid. Hopefully it works out but I'm not optimistic. Until next time I hope all is well.
Kristen
The last Friday that she was here she informed me that she wouldn't be in on Monday and instead would come on Tuesday because she was going to baking school in Bangkok. I knew that she had dreams of opening her own bakery (our charades and broken English conversations were very informative about her as a person), but I also thought that it wouldn't be until next year because she needed approval from the bank for her loan. It seemed like a long process so I thought I was safe from her leaving. Stupidly, I also thought that we would be the beneficiaries of her new culinary skills. Big fat WRONG!
On Tuesday, the day she quit, I walked into my bedroom to find her doing her thing and simply asked her how school went. She got this strange look on her face and says "about that..". Well, I knew right then and there that the news she was about to delivery to me was not good. Turns out I'm a bit psychic because I was right! The school in Bangkok was too far and far too expensive so she found a local alternative that was free but much more intensive. So, that meant for me that I was losing her. No two week notice. No notice at all. Just a simple "madam, I no come to work no more", and that was the end of her employment. She offered her friend up as a replacement, stayed throughout the day, then left with a promise to see me on Wednesday as her "official" last day.
Wednesday went well enough. She was here all day, watched the babe while I did my Thai lessons, and then cooked us yet another fab meal. At around 4pm she offered to call her friend so that I could meet her. Stupid me forgot to ask BEFORE I said yes as to whether or not said friend spoke any English. Khun P's English was about as little as I could handle for as much as we interacted. Anyway, after the friend shows up we all just stand there looking at one another because come to find out, possible new maid doesn't speak a lick of English! After a few nervous laughs were exchanged, Khun P did the talking. She told her the pay and said she would show her what to do during the day. At this point I actually broke down and begged her to stay promising her more money. I was weak, I admit. Unfortunately for me she didn't take it. Apparently "bakery" wasn't code for "I want more money". Anyway, she asked whether or not I wanted new maid to cook which prompted me to make a very childish face. After she scolded me a bit for doing so, Khun P assured me that new maid was a good cook. Possibly even better then herself.
So, after she showed new maid what to do during the day, we said our tearful goodbyes with her promising to come by and visit and bring us cookies. Whether she will actually do this or not, I don't know. All I do know is that my new diddy is now "Somebody That I Used to Know", which my loving hubby finds ever so amusing although somewhat accurate ( I broke down our relationship for him in song form. It was quite funny but you really had to be there to appreciate it). I really like Khun P and she will be sadly missed, but I do wish her much success.
You know what I find so crazy about this whole experience was that I was really against having a maid. Turns out however, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had pictured. I thought she would be all up in my space and intrusive and trying to tell me what to do with my kids. She wasn't any, or didn't do, any, of those things. She was quiet helpful and very funny. She made the days here in Thailand a lot less lonely. Oh well. Fly Khun P, fly! I will always remember you as "Somebody That I Used to Know"!
I'll update soon with a report on new maid. Hopefully it works out but I'm not optimistic. Until next time I hope all is well.
Kristen
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
The great curling iron debacle
I am still a little in shock as to what happened with regards to my new curling iron. I cant for the life of me understand how the word "no" and the shaking of my head for emphasis, was not enough to convince this woman at the department store that what she was trying to sell me was not in fact what I wanted. Let me explain...
Thailand electrical works off of different voltage then we do in The States. Here in Thailand they work of 220 I think, maybe 240... In any event, it's different and we cant use most of our electrical stuff here, despite the fact that they will plug in. So, since I knew this before leaving home I purchased what I thought was a good converter. (Note to self: do NOT buy converter's from the luggage aisle at Wal Mart and expect them to work on expensive appliances.) Okay, so as I said I had this converter and for the most part it was working well. We did have to purchase a few new items that wouldn't convert, like hubby's hair trimmer that totally screwed up Middle Boys hair (totally not my fault, despite what my hubby says), a coffee maker, an iron, really small things. The one thing that I did find that sort of worked on the converter was my curling iron. I knew it wouldn't last forever working like it was, but I also didn't want to go out an purchase something new (and expensive) that I would only be able to use for a year. Now, please understand, I do like to shop and I can spend money quite quickly, but I also hate to waste, and this, buying a new curling iron, felt like a waste. So, I held off. And then it died. On a day when I needed presentable hair because Big Kid had a school thing. Great!
So, I did what any girl would do in that situation. I slapped on some makeup, put on a pretty dress, and strutted my stuff like I had good hair instead of bad. Okay, "strutting my stuff" isn't entirely accurate. I mean I was going to a kindergarten program after all. Lets go with, "I have three kids so cut me slack on my bad hair" walk. Yep, that sounds more like it,lol! So, after the program had concluded I went to the mall to purchase a new iron.
I went to the mall with one objective, and that was to buy a Lesasha iron (please exaggerate the "Le" part when you say it. It's more fun sounding that way!), but unfortunately, due to faulty debit cards issued by our Thai bank, I was denied my purchase. It was embarrassing when it happened, but it actually turned out to be a good thing since the lady did in fact talk me into a different brand then what I wanted. You see, hubby and I have had a run in with this particular lady before. She was the one who insisted that the Babyliss hair trimmer that he ended up with was THE BEST and that he just had to buy it. Umm no. Not even close. She seems to speak just enough English to tell you are wrong and that you want something else, but not quite enough to understand the word "no". Anyway, I left with decent hair (she did my hair for me) but no iron. Thankfully my wonderful neighbor loaned me her spare until I could get a new one.
So, that brings us to Sunday. The hubby volunteered to take me back to the mall to acquire a new iron. Unfortunantly we did not time our arrival well and were greeted by the same sales girl who came running (yes, I do mean running) when she saw me. She says "oh, I remember you. Here is what you want" and proceeds to pull out the iron that I did not want. After tell her so, and pointing several times to the one that I did want, she finally got the message and called over a man. Why a man, you may be asking yourself. And no, he did not speak better English then her. He did however have better hair and I am quite certain moonligths as a lady. Anyway, after rebuffing him on the same iron she tried selling me, he tossed his perfectly styled hair at me and stormed off in a huff stating "Well, I tried!". Okay dude, or dudette, whatever! So, I went back to shopping and tried at least three times to get the iron that I wanted and was promptly told three times that she didn't have any and they were no good. Well, she must have thought that I was blind because she had several under the counter, which I showed her. She again told me no! So, after a very frustrating time with her we walked across the store to another Leshasha counter. This time they had the boxes out in the open where you could just get what you wanted. As I am picking up the box I see her out the corner of my eye coming my way, and I freaked! Thankfully she was intercepted by another customer.
After I pick up my box, hide behind my stroller with it for a while, I tell the hubby to run to the counter so that we can pay and get the heck out of there. Hubby is laughing his butt off by the way! Once we get to the counter and I hand over the iron, this look of confusion comes over the clerk's face. So, what does she do? She gets on the darn phone and calls "Ms. No You Can't Have That"! Why? Why did she HAVE to do that? I had already gotten into trouble with Ms. No and I certainly did not need her coming to take the prize that I worked so hard to find. I will never know the answer to this question since they were speaking in Thai, but the message was clear, I should have allowed Ms. No to bring the iron to the counter (or, I should have at least listened and bought the other one). After talking to each other for what seemed like an eternity, the clerk hangs up the phone and I hold my breath while I wait for Ms. No to appear and scold me once again. Luckily it didn't happen and she allowed me to continue with my purchase. After my credit card was authorized and the receipt was printed, we took off, Iron in bag! Score!!
Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Thailand electrical works off of different voltage then we do in The States. Here in Thailand they work of 220 I think, maybe 240... In any event, it's different and we cant use most of our electrical stuff here, despite the fact that they will plug in. So, since I knew this before leaving home I purchased what I thought was a good converter. (Note to self: do NOT buy converter's from the luggage aisle at Wal Mart and expect them to work on expensive appliances.) Okay, so as I said I had this converter and for the most part it was working well. We did have to purchase a few new items that wouldn't convert, like hubby's hair trimmer that totally screwed up Middle Boys hair (totally not my fault, despite what my hubby says), a coffee maker, an iron, really small things. The one thing that I did find that sort of worked on the converter was my curling iron. I knew it wouldn't last forever working like it was, but I also didn't want to go out an purchase something new (and expensive) that I would only be able to use for a year. Now, please understand, I do like to shop and I can spend money quite quickly, but I also hate to waste, and this, buying a new curling iron, felt like a waste. So, I held off. And then it died. On a day when I needed presentable hair because Big Kid had a school thing. Great!
So, I did what any girl would do in that situation. I slapped on some makeup, put on a pretty dress, and strutted my stuff like I had good hair instead of bad. Okay, "strutting my stuff" isn't entirely accurate. I mean I was going to a kindergarten program after all. Lets go with, "I have three kids so cut me slack on my bad hair" walk. Yep, that sounds more like it,lol! So, after the program had concluded I went to the mall to purchase a new iron.
I went to the mall with one objective, and that was to buy a Lesasha iron (please exaggerate the "Le" part when you say it. It's more fun sounding that way!), but unfortunately, due to faulty debit cards issued by our Thai bank, I was denied my purchase. It was embarrassing when it happened, but it actually turned out to be a good thing since the lady did in fact talk me into a different brand then what I wanted. You see, hubby and I have had a run in with this particular lady before. She was the one who insisted that the Babyliss hair trimmer that he ended up with was THE BEST and that he just had to buy it. Umm no. Not even close. She seems to speak just enough English to tell you are wrong and that you want something else, but not quite enough to understand the word "no". Anyway, I left with decent hair (she did my hair for me) but no iron. Thankfully my wonderful neighbor loaned me her spare until I could get a new one.
So, that brings us to Sunday. The hubby volunteered to take me back to the mall to acquire a new iron. Unfortunantly we did not time our arrival well and were greeted by the same sales girl who came running (yes, I do mean running) when she saw me. She says "oh, I remember you. Here is what you want" and proceeds to pull out the iron that I did not want. After tell her so, and pointing several times to the one that I did want, she finally got the message and called over a man. Why a man, you may be asking yourself. And no, he did not speak better English then her. He did however have better hair and I am quite certain moonligths as a lady. Anyway, after rebuffing him on the same iron she tried selling me, he tossed his perfectly styled hair at me and stormed off in a huff stating "Well, I tried!". Okay dude, or dudette, whatever! So, I went back to shopping and tried at least three times to get the iron that I wanted and was promptly told three times that she didn't have any and they were no good. Well, she must have thought that I was blind because she had several under the counter, which I showed her. She again told me no! So, after a very frustrating time with her we walked across the store to another Leshasha counter. This time they had the boxes out in the open where you could just get what you wanted. As I am picking up the box I see her out the corner of my eye coming my way, and I freaked! Thankfully she was intercepted by another customer.
After I pick up my box, hide behind my stroller with it for a while, I tell the hubby to run to the counter so that we can pay and get the heck out of there. Hubby is laughing his butt off by the way! Once we get to the counter and I hand over the iron, this look of confusion comes over the clerk's face. So, what does she do? She gets on the darn phone and calls "Ms. No You Can't Have That"! Why? Why did she HAVE to do that? I had already gotten into trouble with Ms. No and I certainly did not need her coming to take the prize that I worked so hard to find. I will never know the answer to this question since they were speaking in Thai, but the message was clear, I should have allowed Ms. No to bring the iron to the counter (or, I should have at least listened and bought the other one). After talking to each other for what seemed like an eternity, the clerk hangs up the phone and I hold my breath while I wait for Ms. No to appear and scold me once again. Luckily it didn't happen and she allowed me to continue with my purchase. After my credit card was authorized and the receipt was printed, we took off, Iron in bag! Score!!
Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Kristen does talk Thai very well! (sort of)
The Thai people, in general, are a very friendly people. They laugh a lot, smile a lot, and generally avoid confrontation at all cost. It just isn't the Thai way to be angry. A few weeks ago,(I may have mentioned this previously) I greeted a Thai in Thai for the first time. He didn't laugh, just smiled, and said it right back to me as if I had done a good job. Well, that was the last day that I did that because the next time I used my greeting with a Thai, he did laugh at me and my bubble was popped. I just knew that I did something wrong and went right back to greeting people with a friendly English "hello". Yesterday however, I regained my confidence!
At about 2:30, right after putting the babe down for her nap (and maybe taking a little nap for myself), the doorbell rings and I hear Khun P talking to this Thai man who was asking for me and the Big Kid in English. A little strange, but okay. Turns out I had completely forgotten that my Thai lessons were to start. So, after willing myself off my comfy chair I greeted Khun Bill, my Thai teacher.
Khun Bill is a hoot by the way. As we were sitting there he starts asking me questions about myself, the kids, our life here, and when we get to my middle son and his name, Khun Bill says loudly "Oh, good name! Man of God!" This totally threw me off my game because Thai's, at least the majority, are Buddhist. How did the man, this Thai man at that, know that my middle was named after a man of God? And why did he just say "Praise the Lord" and give my middle two thumbs up?? So many questions in just a five minute period. Turns out Khun Bill is a Christian and a passionate one at that! So, after I got over my shock of meeting a Thai Christian, we got down to business.
His first order of business was to find out what I liked about Thailand. I'm guessing he was trying to figure out what phrases would benefit me the most. Now, if you have been keeping up with this blog, I was posed this question shortly after we got here and my answer was less then stellar. I was prepared this time since I have been actively searching for things that I like about Thailand. I told him that I liked the friendly people, the excellent food that Khun P cooks for us, the lovely scenery, how laid back life could be, etc. Surprisingly he actually criticized the laid back life that most Thai's live. He said not worrying about the future, while good in some circumstances, was a very bad thing when it comes to finances and things of that nature. This also shocked me because it seems to be such a Western way of thinking. Anyway, after also going over things that I disliked about Thailand (the list was much longer then the likes list, but getting shorter then my original list), we started speaking in Thai.
The big kid was also allotted 150 hours of Thai language lessons with me but instead chose to complain about how bored he was (which Khun Bill showed him how to say in Thai by the way, lol!). After we were doing lessons for about an hour we took a break for a few minutes then got right back to work, this time with the big kid joining in. When I asked him if he could say something, instead of getting the "yes, I can" answer, he actually said what we (Khun Bill and I) were saying. All in all it was a fun afternoon and I did learn quite a lot. Khun Bill even said that we did well and that we should feel confident when we greet someone. I should however be careful if trying to tell someone that I love them in Thai because apparently when I was repeating the phrase back to him I told him that I was going to rob him. Why those two words are spelled the same I will never understand! Even though i messed up that phrase i did however learn proper greetings and was fairly good at sentence structures. My tones suck though!
So, that brings us to today, day one after the lessons. As the big kid and I were walking into his school I told the guard "hello" in Thai and to my surprise so did the big kid! He said it with such confidence that it took everything in my mommy gut not to swoop him up and kiss his cheeks! I was, and am, so proud of him! Next week we have more lessons and hopefully the Big Kid comes with the same positive attitude that he showed in the latter part of the lessons. I would love for him to be able to carry on conversations with Thai's and I think he is at the right age for learning.
In any event, it is time for lunch and I have a babe sleeping on my lap so I guess I had better get going. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Sawatdee Ka,
Kristen
At about 2:30, right after putting the babe down for her nap (and maybe taking a little nap for myself), the doorbell rings and I hear Khun P talking to this Thai man who was asking for me and the Big Kid in English. A little strange, but okay. Turns out I had completely forgotten that my Thai lessons were to start. So, after willing myself off my comfy chair I greeted Khun Bill, my Thai teacher.
Khun Bill is a hoot by the way. As we were sitting there he starts asking me questions about myself, the kids, our life here, and when we get to my middle son and his name, Khun Bill says loudly "Oh, good name! Man of God!" This totally threw me off my game because Thai's, at least the majority, are Buddhist. How did the man, this Thai man at that, know that my middle was named after a man of God? And why did he just say "Praise the Lord" and give my middle two thumbs up?? So many questions in just a five minute period. Turns out Khun Bill is a Christian and a passionate one at that! So, after I got over my shock of meeting a Thai Christian, we got down to business.
His first order of business was to find out what I liked about Thailand. I'm guessing he was trying to figure out what phrases would benefit me the most. Now, if you have been keeping up with this blog, I was posed this question shortly after we got here and my answer was less then stellar. I was prepared this time since I have been actively searching for things that I like about Thailand. I told him that I liked the friendly people, the excellent food that Khun P cooks for us, the lovely scenery, how laid back life could be, etc. Surprisingly he actually criticized the laid back life that most Thai's live. He said not worrying about the future, while good in some circumstances, was a very bad thing when it comes to finances and things of that nature. This also shocked me because it seems to be such a Western way of thinking. Anyway, after also going over things that I disliked about Thailand (the list was much longer then the likes list, but getting shorter then my original list), we started speaking in Thai.
The big kid was also allotted 150 hours of Thai language lessons with me but instead chose to complain about how bored he was (which Khun Bill showed him how to say in Thai by the way, lol!). After we were doing lessons for about an hour we took a break for a few minutes then got right back to work, this time with the big kid joining in. When I asked him if he could say something, instead of getting the "yes, I can" answer, he actually said what we (Khun Bill and I) were saying. All in all it was a fun afternoon and I did learn quite a lot. Khun Bill even said that we did well and that we should feel confident when we greet someone. I should however be careful if trying to tell someone that I love them in Thai because apparently when I was repeating the phrase back to him I told him that I was going to rob him. Why those two words are spelled the same I will never understand! Even though i messed up that phrase i did however learn proper greetings and was fairly good at sentence structures. My tones suck though!
So, that brings us to today, day one after the lessons. As the big kid and I were walking into his school I told the guard "hello" in Thai and to my surprise so did the big kid! He said it with such confidence that it took everything in my mommy gut not to swoop him up and kiss his cheeks! I was, and am, so proud of him! Next week we have more lessons and hopefully the Big Kid comes with the same positive attitude that he showed in the latter part of the lessons. I would love for him to be able to carry on conversations with Thai's and I think he is at the right age for learning.
In any event, it is time for lunch and I have a babe sleeping on my lap so I guess I had better get going. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Sawatdee Ka,
Kristen
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
My International Incident
Well, maybe calling it "International" isn't entirely correct. You see, I didn't offend the entire nation of Thailand, just the Buddhist part of Thailand. If you know anything about Thailand however, you know that the vast majority of Thailand is in fact Buddhist, so you can see why calling the incident "International" isn't quite correct but not completely false either.
So, let me start by saying that I know nothing about he Buddhist culture, or better yet, I didn't before last week. Well, I take that back. I knew two things. One: Women cannot, under any circumstances even in incidents of drowning, touch a Saffron clad Buddhist Monk (totally true, I read a story about this). And Two: The laws of physics do not apply to Saffron clad Buddhist Monks because apparently you can pile at least seven of them in a single cab pick-up truck and it be completely safe. Yep, good bit of knowledge to have there, right???
So anyway, remember Remy? My little "problem" visitor? Well, last week my neighbor stopped over for a chat and we got on the subject of "things that induce heart attacks" and I told her about Remy and my attempt to have him killed with a big stick. As I am telling her this she begins to shake her head "no" and starts to laugh. I thought she was trying to commiserate or something and had been through the same thing and had the same feelings, but no, no she wasn't laughing and commiserating. She was laughing at my rather large faux paux, and she was about to give me a very important lesson about the Buddhist people. After I finished my story and she had ceased her laughter she says "oh honey no. They won't kill them. That's their kin!" Huh? I'm sorry, crazy lady say what???
As you can imagine the news of "killing their kin" completely threw me off. Their kin? Really? I didn't know what to make of this info so my first thought went to schooling. My neighbor is Canadian and I thought maybe they just taught evolution differently there and Canadians thought people came from rats and not the monkeys. Well, no. Now that couldn't be it, could it? I mean evolution is a universal thing, right? Surly it is. So, as quickly as that thought came into my little brain, it left. So then what? What's this kin business about?
Well the kin business relates to the Buddhist principle/philosophy of reincarnation. Apparently they wont even kill bugs. Here I am playing hang man charades with two mild manner Buddhist in my kitchen and all they can probably think is "crazy white lady wants me to kill my grandpa!". Now mind you, they didn't actually come out and say this, but looking back, the expressions on their faces were along that line. As I am telling my ever so sweet hubby about the revelation brought on by my neighbor he too starts laughing at me. Apparently he knew all about why Buddhist wont kill rats and just "forgot" to inform me. Thanks hubby! I appreciate that!
In any event, news did not spread farther then my kitchen on my "incident" because I have not been deported or forced to give up my temporary Thai citizenship. My maid is also still working for me and the handy man doesn't seem any more indifferent towards me then normal. All seems to be forgiven! In further news, after my neighbor left, that very night my hubby decided to open the forbidden rat cabinet and discovered that Remy had been caught with the aid of my banana. The bad news surrounding this was that he discovered Remy at 10pm. However, the good news is that our landlord seems to like us and called a security guard to escort Remy off our property... Alive and in his friendly cage!
Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
So, let me start by saying that I know nothing about he Buddhist culture, or better yet, I didn't before last week. Well, I take that back. I knew two things. One: Women cannot, under any circumstances even in incidents of drowning, touch a Saffron clad Buddhist Monk (totally true, I read a story about this). And Two: The laws of physics do not apply to Saffron clad Buddhist Monks because apparently you can pile at least seven of them in a single cab pick-up truck and it be completely safe. Yep, good bit of knowledge to have there, right???
So anyway, remember Remy? My little "problem" visitor? Well, last week my neighbor stopped over for a chat and we got on the subject of "things that induce heart attacks" and I told her about Remy and my attempt to have him killed with a big stick. As I am telling her this she begins to shake her head "no" and starts to laugh. I thought she was trying to commiserate or something and had been through the same thing and had the same feelings, but no, no she wasn't laughing and commiserating. She was laughing at my rather large faux paux, and she was about to give me a very important lesson about the Buddhist people. After I finished my story and she had ceased her laughter she says "oh honey no. They won't kill them. That's their kin!" Huh? I'm sorry, crazy lady say what???
As you can imagine the news of "killing their kin" completely threw me off. Their kin? Really? I didn't know what to make of this info so my first thought went to schooling. My neighbor is Canadian and I thought maybe they just taught evolution differently there and Canadians thought people came from rats and not the monkeys. Well, no. Now that couldn't be it, could it? I mean evolution is a universal thing, right? Surly it is. So, as quickly as that thought came into my little brain, it left. So then what? What's this kin business about?
Well the kin business relates to the Buddhist principle/philosophy of reincarnation. Apparently they wont even kill bugs. Here I am playing hang man charades with two mild manner Buddhist in my kitchen and all they can probably think is "crazy white lady wants me to kill my grandpa!". Now mind you, they didn't actually come out and say this, but looking back, the expressions on their faces were along that line. As I am telling my ever so sweet hubby about the revelation brought on by my neighbor he too starts laughing at me. Apparently he knew all about why Buddhist wont kill rats and just "forgot" to inform me. Thanks hubby! I appreciate that!
In any event, news did not spread farther then my kitchen on my "incident" because I have not been deported or forced to give up my temporary Thai citizenship. My maid is also still working for me and the handy man doesn't seem any more indifferent towards me then normal. All seems to be forgiven! In further news, after my neighbor left, that very night my hubby decided to open the forbidden rat cabinet and discovered that Remy had been caught with the aid of my banana. The bad news surrounding this was that he discovered Remy at 10pm. However, the good news is that our landlord seems to like us and called a security guard to escort Remy off our property... Alive and in his friendly cage!
Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Monday, October 8, 2012
Worst game of charades E-V-E-R!!!
Boy, oh boy! Just when I thought that things could not go more wrong. When I thought that FINALLY things were turning around and that I was about to fall madly in love with living here, I burn my stupid finger on the Princess coffee maker and I discover that Remy from Ratatouille is living in my darn kitchen ( trust me, darn was not the four letter word originally used when I made this fantastic discovery!)!
First things first. The Princess coffee maker. Apparently all of the products here are named to appeal to women ( or men, lol), and Princess just so happens to be the product name of our new coffee maker. And trust me, that darn coffee maker acts like a true princess! If you don't treat her with the utmost of respect she will either A) spew coffee all over your kitchen, or B) burn your finger. As previously mentioned, my finger was burned this morning because apparently Princess decided to take her time making my morning Joe and when I removed the pot her steam got me. And yes, she steams. Don't ask!
Now as for Remy, well... I'm not really sure where to start as he was just discovered today. Now keep in mind that we haven't actually seen him. We have, or better yet, I have, seen the mess this dude makes. So, picture it. Rainy wet morning. I get the kids up, make them breakfast, fix the big kid his lunch, and out we go. I had thrown something in the trash before we left and the trash bag was completely normal looking, of this I'm 100% sure. So.. we get back from school drop off and we set about our day. Today was maid day so I was waiting around for her and eating breakfast. After she arrived she went about her day and I did my thing. One of my things brought me back to the trash can where I immediate noticed that something was amiss and that someone, or someTHING, had shredded the sides in an attempt to gain access to its contents. I originally thought that maybe the maid had tried pulling the bag out and had trouble. The more I thought about it, the less that thought made sense. It's a rather small can and we didn't have much inside. Plus, she would have told me. Then, I thought maybe the hubby had done it the night before, but really, as I said earlier, the trash can looked completely normal earlier and a shredded trash bag was not something that my hubby would do.
So here I am, solely focused on this trash can and it's mysteriously destroyed trash bag when it dawns on me. I bet a damn gecko got to it. But no, no that couldn't be right. How would a gecko do that much damage? Plus, how would it get in there? And then it hits. And boy did it hit! It had to be something massive to do what it did. So, I frantically call the hubby and tell him about it and take pictures so that people don't think I've totally lost it, and as I am talking to him I blurt out "it had to be something huge to get that high up on the trash can. I DO NOT want to see that!". After I got off the phone with the hubby I went searching for my maid. I asked her to come into the kitchen to confirm my suspicions and before I can even ask what left the dropping by the trash can she screeches out "oh, madam, that rat poo poo!". I totally lost it and to be honest, I'm not really all that proud of the screeching, yelling, and hopping around I did. And this woman. This very brave woman, went searching through my kitchen to see if she could find the offender. When she didn't, I politely asked her not to open any more cabinets because I may die if the rat ran out. This seemed to concern her greatly because she clutched her chest and said "oh, you die?". Apparently dramatics do not translate well!
After several calls back and forth with my hubby, it was determined this this was the sort of emergency that one calls the landlord for right away. This was not a " my light bulb died can you come fix it" situation. This was a " my water pipe broke, my house is flooding, and I may drown" sort of emergency. Thankfully, between my hubby and my maid, the maintenance man was summoned.
Now for the part about charades. My poor maintenance man came right over with a trap. A freakin glue trap. A glue trap for a 20 pound rat??? Are you kidding me??? So, I tell him no. This will not work. Since he didn't understand, I pulled about what I thought were my seriously mad charade skills. They've gotten the job done so far and I thought I was pretty darn good. Ha!!!So, I tell him no ( shake head) you ( pointing at him) make rat ( holds up hands like rat paws and make squeaking sounds) dead( mimics a noose) with snap trap (snaps hands together) . Seems really clear right? WRONG! These movements apparently directly translate to " please bring me a cage so that I don't have to clean glue off my new BFF's feet when we catch him and make him ours, and pet him, and love him forever.", Because yes people, they brought me a cage. And not just one cage. Oh no. They brought me two! So now I have two cages waiting for Remy to arrive and they used my fresh bread as the bait. Nice right???
There are now three people with direct knowledge of my fear of all things that scurry around and squeak; my hubby, my friend A, and now Khun P. My hubby knows because he was called out of a meeting back home to care for me during Mouse Gate 2010. My friend A knows because I told her about the incident with my hubby. And well Khun P, she knows because of today. My hubby and A both had simple solutions like call the exterminator and neither placed the blame on me. A even told me of her mouse catching skills. Khun P however informed me that Remy was a direct reflection of my catlessness. Yes, that is a word! Anyway, her solution to my catlessness is to bring me one of her kittens. Yep, that's just what I need. Something small and furry and that meows instead of squeaks. Great! So, needless to say, after she determined that my kids don't have allergies, and that there was no good and plausible reason for my catlessness, she has decided to make me a cat person. Hopefully she doesn't actually show up with one on Wednesday, but we shall see. Although, you know, I do have two cages and to my knowledge only one Remy, so I really should have something to fill it. Just watch though, we'll probably catch Remy and his brother Emile.
In any event, my kids are currently battling it out in the living room so I must go. Until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
First things first. The Princess coffee maker. Apparently all of the products here are named to appeal to women ( or men, lol), and Princess just so happens to be the product name of our new coffee maker. And trust me, that darn coffee maker acts like a true princess! If you don't treat her with the utmost of respect she will either A) spew coffee all over your kitchen, or B) burn your finger. As previously mentioned, my finger was burned this morning because apparently Princess decided to take her time making my morning Joe and when I removed the pot her steam got me. And yes, she steams. Don't ask!
Now as for Remy, well... I'm not really sure where to start as he was just discovered today. Now keep in mind that we haven't actually seen him. We have, or better yet, I have, seen the mess this dude makes. So, picture it. Rainy wet morning. I get the kids up, make them breakfast, fix the big kid his lunch, and out we go. I had thrown something in the trash before we left and the trash bag was completely normal looking, of this I'm 100% sure. So.. we get back from school drop off and we set about our day. Today was maid day so I was waiting around for her and eating breakfast. After she arrived she went about her day and I did my thing. One of my things brought me back to the trash can where I immediate noticed that something was amiss and that someone, or someTHING, had shredded the sides in an attempt to gain access to its contents. I originally thought that maybe the maid had tried pulling the bag out and had trouble. The more I thought about it, the less that thought made sense. It's a rather small can and we didn't have much inside. Plus, she would have told me. Then, I thought maybe the hubby had done it the night before, but really, as I said earlier, the trash can looked completely normal earlier and a shredded trash bag was not something that my hubby would do.
So here I am, solely focused on this trash can and it's mysteriously destroyed trash bag when it dawns on me. I bet a damn gecko got to it. But no, no that couldn't be right. How would a gecko do that much damage? Plus, how would it get in there? And then it hits. And boy did it hit! It had to be something massive to do what it did. So, I frantically call the hubby and tell him about it and take pictures so that people don't think I've totally lost it, and as I am talking to him I blurt out "it had to be something huge to get that high up on the trash can. I DO NOT want to see that!". After I got off the phone with the hubby I went searching for my maid. I asked her to come into the kitchen to confirm my suspicions and before I can even ask what left the dropping by the trash can she screeches out "oh, madam, that rat poo poo!". I totally lost it and to be honest, I'm not really all that proud of the screeching, yelling, and hopping around I did. And this woman. This very brave woman, went searching through my kitchen to see if she could find the offender. When she didn't, I politely asked her not to open any more cabinets because I may die if the rat ran out. This seemed to concern her greatly because she clutched her chest and said "oh, you die?". Apparently dramatics do not translate well!
After several calls back and forth with my hubby, it was determined this this was the sort of emergency that one calls the landlord for right away. This was not a " my light bulb died can you come fix it" situation. This was a " my water pipe broke, my house is flooding, and I may drown" sort of emergency. Thankfully, between my hubby and my maid, the maintenance man was summoned.
Now for the part about charades. My poor maintenance man came right over with a trap. A freakin glue trap. A glue trap for a 20 pound rat??? Are you kidding me??? So, I tell him no. This will not work. Since he didn't understand, I pulled about what I thought were my seriously mad charade skills. They've gotten the job done so far and I thought I was pretty darn good. Ha!!!So, I tell him no ( shake head) you ( pointing at him) make rat ( holds up hands like rat paws and make squeaking sounds) dead( mimics a noose) with snap trap (snaps hands together) . Seems really clear right? WRONG! These movements apparently directly translate to " please bring me a cage so that I don't have to clean glue off my new BFF's feet when we catch him and make him ours, and pet him, and love him forever.", Because yes people, they brought me a cage. And not just one cage. Oh no. They brought me two! So now I have two cages waiting for Remy to arrive and they used my fresh bread as the bait. Nice right???
There are now three people with direct knowledge of my fear of all things that scurry around and squeak; my hubby, my friend A, and now Khun P. My hubby knows because he was called out of a meeting back home to care for me during Mouse Gate 2010. My friend A knows because I told her about the incident with my hubby. And well Khun P, she knows because of today. My hubby and A both had simple solutions like call the exterminator and neither placed the blame on me. A even told me of her mouse catching skills. Khun P however informed me that Remy was a direct reflection of my catlessness. Yes, that is a word! Anyway, her solution to my catlessness is to bring me one of her kittens. Yep, that's just what I need. Something small and furry and that meows instead of squeaks. Great! So, needless to say, after she determined that my kids don't have allergies, and that there was no good and plausible reason for my catlessness, she has decided to make me a cat person. Hopefully she doesn't actually show up with one on Wednesday, but we shall see. Although, you know, I do have two cages and to my knowledge only one Remy, so I really should have something to fill it. Just watch though, we'll probably catch Remy and his brother Emile.
In any event, my kids are currently battling it out in the living room so I must go. Until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
Thursday, October 4, 2012
And another one bites the dust...
You know, I really should learn to not count my chickens before my eggs hatch. Oh,what now, you may be asking yourself. Well, would you know that after I posted my last post about finally settling the driver situation, he too, decided not to drive for us after all!?! Yep, three down. I have managed to chase off three drivers. Most people go through two... Maybe. Me??? Nope! I'm an overachiever! I'm shooting for number four! Really, it has nothing to do with me, of this I'm sure. I AM super fantastic and fun after all (totally kidding!). But really??? Four??? Total complex going on over here. Since Mr.S initially asked for the job I'm guessing he felt pretty bad about turning it down because before doing so, found a friend of his who does want the job. My response when the hubby told me this was less then lady-like, I assure you. My exact words were, "You can tell Mr.S and his friend that they can both go f-themselves! I'm driving myself". See, total lady-like response. In any event, number four, actually make that number FIVE since we have a different one this weekend, will be starting on Monday. I'm shooting for the stars, people!
In other news, I have to make Halloween costumes. And not just any Halloween costumes. Sponge Bob costumes. And of course since they don't celebrate Halloween here in Thailand, they don't have a store where I can just go pick up a costume. I really do have to make it. And the problem with that? Well, even though I have made the kid's costumes the last two years, I had a pattern to follow. Now I don't. I have to wing it. In addition to that, they don't have a Wal Mart or Joann's where I can just pick up whatever fabric I need. They have silk stores in several places, but that would ensure that my Sponge Bob costumes would look a little Queen-ish, and I am quite certain that Sponge Bob is no Queen. In any event, I can't find a fabric store that ships here so I have requested that they choose something else. We had thrown around the idea of "Jake and the Neverland Pirates" in the past so that was my suggestion to which the big kid replied "who would middle kid be?". When I told him that middle kid would be Cubby his response was " oh, the little fat one?". Seems that my idea was a bust! The babe is going to be a ladybug, but again, no pattern, so I'm winging that one too. Stayed tuned for pics once I find fabric. It should prove interesting!
Well, my cake smells like it is burning so I really should get going. I was trying to experiment with temperature control on my Thai oven and I do believe that I may have been off a little and have failed miserably. Could be because I can't seem to figure out the unit of the temp gage on the oven. Just a guess! I could be wrong. Anywho, I hope all is well!
Kristen
In other news, I have to make Halloween costumes. And not just any Halloween costumes. Sponge Bob costumes. And of course since they don't celebrate Halloween here in Thailand, they don't have a store where I can just go pick up a costume. I really do have to make it. And the problem with that? Well, even though I have made the kid's costumes the last two years, I had a pattern to follow. Now I don't. I have to wing it. In addition to that, they don't have a Wal Mart or Joann's where I can just pick up whatever fabric I need. They have silk stores in several places, but that would ensure that my Sponge Bob costumes would look a little Queen-ish, and I am quite certain that Sponge Bob is no Queen. In any event, I can't find a fabric store that ships here so I have requested that they choose something else. We had thrown around the idea of "Jake and the Neverland Pirates" in the past so that was my suggestion to which the big kid replied "who would middle kid be?". When I told him that middle kid would be Cubby his response was " oh, the little fat one?". Seems that my idea was a bust! The babe is going to be a ladybug, but again, no pattern, so I'm winging that one too. Stayed tuned for pics once I find fabric. It should prove interesting!
Well, my cake smells like it is burning so I really should get going. I was trying to experiment with temperature control on my Thai oven and I do believe that I may have been off a little and have failed miserably. Could be because I can't seem to figure out the unit of the temp gage on the oven. Just a guess! I could be wrong. Anywho, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Mr. O, the sequel!
Well, it happened again. I got left at the mall. I'm not really sure what it is about me and that damn mall, but I swear it's like me and the geckos. Being naked means gecko attack, and needing to be somewhere else while shopping at the mall equals being left by the driver.
You know, today actually started out.. Ehh, okay, it started out crappy. I should have known. The big kid and I started fighting as soon as the hubby walked out the door and then the middle kid and the baby decided to launch their attacks simultaneously. I was a defeated woman before even hitting the golf cart for our morning drive. I was seriously contemplating hiding in a dark closet and drinking for a while, but I digress. Anyway, the day picked up very quickly when on our way back from dropping off the big kid at school, I drove past my neighbor. Even though I had turned down her offer to babysit so that I could go to coffee chat (I actually turned her down for the whole year because i was yet again feeling sorry for myself ), she insisted that I get my fanny back home and get dressed to go. Since she gave me a hug and told me not to cry (yep, big ol'baby over here today!) I decided to take her advice and get out on my own for a short while (you know, instead of dark closet drinking). I even put on a dress and my foxy red Tom wedges! After she showed up I took off with another sweet gal to the coffee chat while she, my lovely neighbor, stayed with the kiddos.
After staying for about an hour chatting with other adults (and yes, I still remember how to do that. Go me!), I came home, loaded up the kiddos and off we went with driver number three, Mr.C. You see, before actually going out with Mr.C it took a lot of convincing from the hubby. After having gone through two drivers I was starting to develop a complex. He assured me that he, driver number three, was a nice man. He was older and very quite, but he was a good driver and he, the hubby, was sure I was going to like him. Boy he was dead wrong! Wrong, wrong, WRONG!
The drive into the city went well. So far, everything the hubby said about the man was in fact true. Older, quite, good driver. After helping me unload the kids he asked what time I wanted him to be back. Since I had no idea, I told him I would call him when we through but it wouldn't be too long. Once our shopping had concluded I called him, but he didn't answer. At this point I wasn't panicking just yet. So, I took the elevator up to our meeting place and tried calling him again. And still... no answer. By this point about 10 minutes had passed and I was starting to worry. We had to be back in time to get the big from school. Since it takes at a minimum 40 minutes to get there we only had about 20 minutes to find this guy. You see, even though I didn't know how long it would take me to get what I needed done, I did know what time I had to leave the mall in order to have a little cushion at home with the two little ones before leaving to get the big one. My cushion was slowly slipping away and the "danger zone" of not getting there on time to get the big kid was rapidly approaching. After a few frantic phone calls to the hubby, he was able to secure a pool driver to take him home so that he could get the big kid from school.
Even though the big kid was no longer in danger of one of his parents not being there to pick him up, we still had the problem of how I was going to get home with two kids who no longer had car seats because not only was our driver MIA, so was our van! As I am walking around the mall with a screaming baby who wants nothing more then to sleep and a toddler who wants nothing more then run away from me and causing me to use several four letters words that I am thankful Thai speaking people probably don't understand, the hubby finally called me to let me know that his employers were able to track down the missing Mr.C and our van... 1.5 hours later!!! Momma was MAD!!! What makes it worse was the reason why Mr.C was MIA. He had turned his phone off. You know, after I told him THAT I WOULD CALL HIM. Who does that??? We still have no idea how they tracked this man down.
Thankfully the drive home was uneventful and we made it back in one piece. One, frazzled, pissed off, piece! Seriously, I'm starting to have a complex about going to this mall. I still can't believe it happened the first time, let alone TWICE! My neighbor's drivers all seem to be fantastic and I know this because they brag. They help them around the house, they water their flowers, they take them shopping and make sure they get the good deals. They even push their grocery carts. Me personally, I don't need all of that. I just need a reliable driver. Someone who doesn't further my now existent abandonment issues.
The second driver that we had was great. His name is Mr.S. He was a pool driver that worked for Hubby's company and not the contracted company, so unfortunately he wasn't available to drive for us permanently. What's sad is that he actually wanted the job and asked for the job and we wanted him to for that reason alone. After today, the company decided to allow Mr.S to come work with us permanently. The hubby said that on Monday that he was going to have a serious talk with Mr. S to let him know that his one and only responsibility was to make sure that I wasn't left anywhere ever again. He can come in late, just so long as he makes SURE that I, and the kids, are safely at home and not left somewhere, (specifically the mall.)
So, the driver situation is now hopefully settled and with that being taken care, and a little therapy, I should be able to resume a some what normal life (that doesn't include dark closet drinking). So, until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
You know, today actually started out.. Ehh, okay, it started out crappy. I should have known. The big kid and I started fighting as soon as the hubby walked out the door and then the middle kid and the baby decided to launch their attacks simultaneously. I was a defeated woman before even hitting the golf cart for our morning drive. I was seriously contemplating hiding in a dark closet and drinking for a while, but I digress. Anyway, the day picked up very quickly when on our way back from dropping off the big kid at school, I drove past my neighbor. Even though I had turned down her offer to babysit so that I could go to coffee chat (I actually turned her down for the whole year because i was yet again feeling sorry for myself ), she insisted that I get my fanny back home and get dressed to go. Since she gave me a hug and told me not to cry (yep, big ol'baby over here today!) I decided to take her advice and get out on my own for a short while (you know, instead of dark closet drinking). I even put on a dress and my foxy red Tom wedges! After she showed up I took off with another sweet gal to the coffee chat while she, my lovely neighbor, stayed with the kiddos.
After staying for about an hour chatting with other adults (and yes, I still remember how to do that. Go me!), I came home, loaded up the kiddos and off we went with driver number three, Mr.C. You see, before actually going out with Mr.C it took a lot of convincing from the hubby. After having gone through two drivers I was starting to develop a complex. He assured me that he, driver number three, was a nice man. He was older and very quite, but he was a good driver and he, the hubby, was sure I was going to like him. Boy he was dead wrong! Wrong, wrong, WRONG!
The drive into the city went well. So far, everything the hubby said about the man was in fact true. Older, quite, good driver. After helping me unload the kids he asked what time I wanted him to be back. Since I had no idea, I told him I would call him when we through but it wouldn't be too long. Once our shopping had concluded I called him, but he didn't answer. At this point I wasn't panicking just yet. So, I took the elevator up to our meeting place and tried calling him again. And still... no answer. By this point about 10 minutes had passed and I was starting to worry. We had to be back in time to get the big from school. Since it takes at a minimum 40 minutes to get there we only had about 20 minutes to find this guy. You see, even though I didn't know how long it would take me to get what I needed done, I did know what time I had to leave the mall in order to have a little cushion at home with the two little ones before leaving to get the big one. My cushion was slowly slipping away and the "danger zone" of not getting there on time to get the big kid was rapidly approaching. After a few frantic phone calls to the hubby, he was able to secure a pool driver to take him home so that he could get the big kid from school.
Even though the big kid was no longer in danger of one of his parents not being there to pick him up, we still had the problem of how I was going to get home with two kids who no longer had car seats because not only was our driver MIA, so was our van! As I am walking around the mall with a screaming baby who wants nothing more then to sleep and a toddler who wants nothing more then run away from me and causing me to use several four letters words that I am thankful Thai speaking people probably don't understand, the hubby finally called me to let me know that his employers were able to track down the missing Mr.C and our van... 1.5 hours later!!! Momma was MAD!!! What makes it worse was the reason why Mr.C was MIA. He had turned his phone off. You know, after I told him THAT I WOULD CALL HIM. Who does that??? We still have no idea how they tracked this man down.
Thankfully the drive home was uneventful and we made it back in one piece. One, frazzled, pissed off, piece! Seriously, I'm starting to have a complex about going to this mall. I still can't believe it happened the first time, let alone TWICE! My neighbor's drivers all seem to be fantastic and I know this because they brag. They help them around the house, they water their flowers, they take them shopping and make sure they get the good deals. They even push their grocery carts. Me personally, I don't need all of that. I just need a reliable driver. Someone who doesn't further my now existent abandonment issues.
The second driver that we had was great. His name is Mr.S. He was a pool driver that worked for Hubby's company and not the contracted company, so unfortunately he wasn't available to drive for us permanently. What's sad is that he actually wanted the job and asked for the job and we wanted him to for that reason alone. After today, the company decided to allow Mr.S to come work with us permanently. The hubby said that on Monday that he was going to have a serious talk with Mr. S to let him know that his one and only responsibility was to make sure that I wasn't left anywhere ever again. He can come in late, just so long as he makes SURE that I, and the kids, are safely at home and not left somewhere, (specifically the mall.)
So, the driver situation is now hopefully settled and with that being taken care, and a little therapy, I should be able to resume a some what normal life (that doesn't include dark closet drinking). So, until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
You want to pay someone to do what???
Yes, that is the question that I posed to my hubby the other night while lying in bed (well, something along those lines anyway). And before you go thinking bad thoughts or anything like that, just because we were in bed is no indication of the topic of our conversation :-). As we were lying there, discussing our day, the hubby casually rolls over and says in a very sweet voice "You know Kris, if you want to pay the maid to come over an extra day, I'm okay with that." Hmm, okay, that set my spidey senses off big time! Now, I know that the man likes a clean house. But, I also know that the man doesn't like to spend a lot of money. He especially doesn't like to spend a lot of money on things we can do ourselves. I also know that the he didn't originally think that we needed a maid that often. So why did he want her to come over more? My first reaction was to ask him if he thought I was doing a bad job on the days that she wasn't here. Of course, I knew what his answer would be to that question so there was no need in asking it. And in case you are wondering what he would have said, well, lets just say that he didn't marry me because of my house keeping skills! In fact I think the number one reason why he was so excited to move to Thailand was because we would be able to afford a maid and for the first time in our married life he would have a spotless house at least a few days a week.
Anyway, after thinking on it a bit, and trying to think of all the things that had happened that week that would prompt that question from him, I suddenly realized why he was wanting her to come over more. It wasn't for a spotless house one extra day a week or anything like that. He was trying to BUY me a friend! God bless the man! He knows what a pathetic mess I am when it comes to friendships. I guess after all the complaining I did earlier in the week about how I would never be able to be involved with the other ladies in the community because of the difference in ages amongst our kids, and how I was destined to live a life of solitude for the next year, his solution was to buy me a friend for one day a week. So I ask him about it, and sure enough, he confirms my suspicions. He didn't seem to think that my solution of him coming home by noon every day and not going in to work a least two days a week was a valid solution to my friendless and life of solitude problem. So yep, yours truly is the girl who needs to buy friends! Not the cool "Girl on Fire" (kudos if you got that reference), but the girl who buys friends. What's really funny was that he didn't even seem to think she needed to clean when she came over the extra day. She just needed to be here to keep me company :-)
So, with all of that being said, this "Girl Who Buys Friends" has to go get her big kid from school. Thankfully they have a short day today because he doesn't seem to be feeling all that well. Apparently, everyone in the class has some kind of crud that they seem to be passing around to one another. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Anyway, after thinking on it a bit, and trying to think of all the things that had happened that week that would prompt that question from him, I suddenly realized why he was wanting her to come over more. It wasn't for a spotless house one extra day a week or anything like that. He was trying to BUY me a friend! God bless the man! He knows what a pathetic mess I am when it comes to friendships. I guess after all the complaining I did earlier in the week about how I would never be able to be involved with the other ladies in the community because of the difference in ages amongst our kids, and how I was destined to live a life of solitude for the next year, his solution was to buy me a friend for one day a week. So I ask him about it, and sure enough, he confirms my suspicions. He didn't seem to think that my solution of him coming home by noon every day and not going in to work a least two days a week was a valid solution to my friendless and life of solitude problem. So yep, yours truly is the girl who needs to buy friends! Not the cool "Girl on Fire" (kudos if you got that reference), but the girl who buys friends. What's really funny was that he didn't even seem to think she needed to clean when she came over the extra day. She just needed to be here to keep me company :-)
So, with all of that being said, this "Girl Who Buys Friends" has to go get her big kid from school. Thankfully they have a short day today because he doesn't seem to be feeling all that well. Apparently, everyone in the class has some kind of crud that they seem to be passing around to one another. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Death by Gecko!
Yep, that's right! A gecko will kill me. I just know it! Before we moved here I was convinced that it would be a fatal snake bite that would do me in, but no. A gecko! Now why a snake you may be asking yourself. Well, I'll tell ya. When we got the brochure in about the hospital ( everyone goes to the hospital not a doctors office) it was advertised as having a "World class snake bite facility". Now, why advertise as such if there was no need??? See, in my warped mind there was obviously a need for this advertisement, so I took it to heart that I was going to be bitten by a snake a leave my hubby wifeless and my children with no mother. I even told my friend J how I wanted my final resting place to look and to make sure that my hubby didn't cremate me, but to stick me in a wall somewhere (I'm scared of catching on fire and yes it matters even if I'm dead!). Once we actually got to Thailand I even asked our guides about the whole snake thing and they assured me that I was overreacting (whatever, I was totally prepared for my snake bite and after, thank you very much!), but I decided to let it drop. Somewhat. I'm still on the look out for killer snakes.
Now as for the gecko, those things are the real killers. You see, my hubby has assured that I am also overreacting in that respect and that they don't bite and even if they did they aren't poisonous. Okay, now the not biting I don't believe for second. I swear they would eat me alive if one got close enough. And as for the poison, ehh, I'm sure I would have heard of poisonous geckos if they did exist, which I have not, so that i believe. However, I'm not so much worried about them biting me as I am of them giving me a heart attack. In fact they have almost succeeded on several occasions since we have been here. I swear they are gearing up for something big. Call me crazy, but those things scare the crap of me! What makes it even worse is that Mrs. UK has informed me that ones that I have been seeing are babies. Babies! Really?? Those things look huge to me! She actually laughed at me and said "nah, those are little. The one at my house that lives by my front door is this big (I swear she held her hands at least eighteen inches apart!)".
I can't believe that I am actually about to tell this story but it may give you some insight as to why they scare the bejesus out me. Okay, here goes. It was a hot and humid day in sunny Georgia. My hubby way out to sea and I was home alone. I had to "use the facilities" ( sounds more classy then I had to pee), and since I had just worked out I stripped down naked and went about my business before hopping in the shower. As I sat down I picked up the latest copy of Us Weekly, plopped in on my naked lap while sitting on the toilet, and what happens when I open that damn magazine?? A lizard, a slimy green lizard, jumps on my naked lap! I screamed so loud I still can't believe that no one rushed over to my house to check on me. Needless to say, once I got my feet back under me that lizard died an ugly death at the hands of a rolled up US Weekly!
And my hubby, my cute, dead sexy hubby, lol! The other night we sneaked into the kitchen after the babes went to bed to feast on sweet treats. I had just gotten out of the shower so I was just wearing a towel (wow, I see a theme now. Being naked equals a sure fire way of being attacked!) and low and behold, as I reach for the cinnamon rolls a damn gecko launches his attack! I half drop my towel and start screeching, not full fledged screaming like last time, as to not wake up the babes. The hubby comes in a starts laughing at me and says in the sweetest voice " you aren't really afraid of a little Geico, are you?" Yep, he called them the insurance company, lol! Anyway, like the good man he is, he tried chasing the darn thing and even though he didn't succeed, it was still very sweet of him to fight dragons for me! Gosh, I just love him!!!
So, yes. I do foresee them killing me by way of inducing a heart attack. I just hope that when it finally happens that I'm not in some embarrassing position like being naked on the toilet again. And since I am sure you are totally laughing at me now, I do need to go get the big kid from school. Until next, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Now as for the gecko, those things are the real killers. You see, my hubby has assured that I am also overreacting in that respect and that they don't bite and even if they did they aren't poisonous. Okay, now the not biting I don't believe for second. I swear they would eat me alive if one got close enough. And as for the poison, ehh, I'm sure I would have heard of poisonous geckos if they did exist, which I have not, so that i believe. However, I'm not so much worried about them biting me as I am of them giving me a heart attack. In fact they have almost succeeded on several occasions since we have been here. I swear they are gearing up for something big. Call me crazy, but those things scare the crap of me! What makes it even worse is that Mrs. UK has informed me that ones that I have been seeing are babies. Babies! Really?? Those things look huge to me! She actually laughed at me and said "nah, those are little. The one at my house that lives by my front door is this big (I swear she held her hands at least eighteen inches apart!)".
I can't believe that I am actually about to tell this story but it may give you some insight as to why they scare the bejesus out me. Okay, here goes. It was a hot and humid day in sunny Georgia. My hubby way out to sea and I was home alone. I had to "use the facilities" ( sounds more classy then I had to pee), and since I had just worked out I stripped down naked and went about my business before hopping in the shower. As I sat down I picked up the latest copy of Us Weekly, plopped in on my naked lap while sitting on the toilet, and what happens when I open that damn magazine?? A lizard, a slimy green lizard, jumps on my naked lap! I screamed so loud I still can't believe that no one rushed over to my house to check on me. Needless to say, once I got my feet back under me that lizard died an ugly death at the hands of a rolled up US Weekly!
And my hubby, my cute, dead sexy hubby, lol! The other night we sneaked into the kitchen after the babes went to bed to feast on sweet treats. I had just gotten out of the shower so I was just wearing a towel (wow, I see a theme now. Being naked equals a sure fire way of being attacked!) and low and behold, as I reach for the cinnamon rolls a damn gecko launches his attack! I half drop my towel and start screeching, not full fledged screaming like last time, as to not wake up the babes. The hubby comes in a starts laughing at me and says in the sweetest voice " you aren't really afraid of a little Geico, are you?" Yep, he called them the insurance company, lol! Anyway, like the good man he is, he tried chasing the darn thing and even though he didn't succeed, it was still very sweet of him to fight dragons for me! Gosh, I just love him!!!
So, yes. I do foresee them killing me by way of inducing a heart attack. I just hope that when it finally happens that I'm not in some embarrassing position like being naked on the toilet again. And since I am sure you are totally laughing at me now, I do need to go get the big kid from school. Until next, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Friday, September 28, 2012
Don't mess with a momma lion!
Especially a saucy, southern, momma lion! We don't play nice when you mess with those we love, especially when they come from our womb! Our former driver learned this lesson just the other day when his no good butt got himself fired for his crazy antics. Everyone told me to relax. Use the driver when I wanted. If I had something to do I shouldn't feel bad about asking him ( they said tell, not ask, but i just couldn't do it) to take me. It was his job after all and got paid well to do it. So, I said well heck, when in Rome (or in this case Thailand), and put him to work. And boy did he work! Worked himself right out of a job is what he did!
So, to fully understand what went down I must start at the beginning. It's rather long as we have been here for three weeks and put up with a lot, so God bless you if you get through it! Well, God you anyway, even if you don't read the whole thing ;-)
Well, it all began on a dreary, but turned sunny, Monday in Thailand. We were greeted promptly at 10:00 in front of our hotel by a very nice gentleman named Mr.O. Mr. O was to be our permanent driver for our stay here and he seemed like a very nice fellow. Great manners, spoke English, and the kids liked him. I thought to myself we hit the jackpot! No switching drivers for us, which I found out was quite the common occurrence. Anywho, he drove us to another hotel and that was the last we saw of him until house hunting concluded on Friday.
We actually saw Mr. O again the next time on Saturday. Saturday was the first day that we were going to go out on our own after being with our guides the whole week. When he came to pick us up at the hotel I was waiting in the lobby with the kids when he walked in. The hubby had ran back
upstairs to get a forgotten item so Mr. O took the opportunity to ask me why we hadn't called him all week. When I informed him that we were house hunting with our guides he asked where we were
going to live. When I told him where, boy... he actually had the nerve to tell me " oh, well, you no
ask me where I want you to live." Now, anyone who knows me in real life knows that running from confrontation is not something I do well. I run to it. Always have. Not sure why, but note to self: check with a shrink on that issue. Anyway, my filter was working very well that day and I politely deferred to my hubby. He too was a little shocked by the statement and then the follow on questions of whether or not we would reconsider. Turns out that we live about 30 plus minutes from Mr.O and he simply did not want to drive out to where we would be. At the end of the day however, I still liked the man so I asked the hubby if we should reconsider. My hubby, the ever sensible man that he is, informed me that doing so wasn't the right decision. For many reasons reconsidering would have been wrong for our family. I know that now.
So, here we are. The first Monday that hubby goes to work. Turns out that before we were even able
to talk to HR about getting a new driver (because ours still had not dropped the issue completely and kept asking us if we signed anything) Mr. O had carried himself down there to inform them that he
didn't like where we chose to live and to ask them to ask us to reconsider. Oh boy! No he didn't! But... Oh yes! He did! Since we had decided that we were in fact not going to reconsider and since
they told him the same thing, he seemed to accept his fate and informed us that he would drive for us
until they found us someone else, and that seems to be where the real trouble starts.
So, fast forward a week and we land in our new place. Mr. O decided that since he was having to
drive a car to our place instead of his normal mode of transportation ( a scooter) that he would ask for
overtime. Okay. Sounds harmless, right? Nope. Not so fast there, sparky! At first it sounded like he was asking us to " cook the books" so to speak. Hmmm... Well, we assumed the best, that it was a simple communication problem, and told him that once life got back to normal that he could expect a small amount of overtime. Well... apparently Mr.O sharpened up his English that night and came back the next day and point blank asked the hubby to sign his time sheet from 6 am to 10 pm whether he was driving or not. Let me let you guess what he said to that one, lol!
Once Mr. O realized that he wasn't going to get his fake overtime, or whatever you call it, he decided that acting like a certain four legged animal ( the lovely Jackass) was THE way to go! Several times
he showed up late to pick me and the kids up ( loved that...NOT!!), lied about how far away things were to avoid taking me places ( yep we know this for a fact since when the hubby was with me later, he would insist on going on those errands), and then the bad day happened. Now really, the bad day deserves a post all to itself, however, I will spare you some of the names and curses that I wanted to throw at this man and instead focus on "The Day".
So, I had grocery shopping to do. I felt somewhat bad about asking to go home decor shopping, but grocery shopping was something this momma had no trouble asking to do. I needed food for the babes and by God, food I was going to get! The hubby had told Mr. O to come right back after dropping him off at work. When did Mr. O show up??? Two hours later! Yep, he did! And get this... He only showed up after Hubby called him to find out where he was. Once he got here he was somewhat polite and helped me load the two little ones and off we went. As we were leaving I told him to take me to my favorite spot for shopping because I could get just about everything I needed there as well as get the big kid his lunch box for school. So picture it: white woman ( yes this important as I tend to stick out amongst all the dark skinned Thais), two blond hair blue eyed babies who draw much more attention then their mother, no stroller, ABANDONED in an underground parking garage that is attached to a CLOSED mall! Yes people, that is in fact how it all went down!
We drive up to the entry way which is in the underground part of the garage and as he is helping me get the kids out I turn to him and say " what time does it open?". You see, it was rather dark and well, I'm not from here so I had no idea! Well, what does he do? He looks at me, tells me 11 and then hops in the van and speeds off like a bat out hell before I even have the chance to tell him to wait and take us somewhere else! So here I am, two kids, alone in the underground garage. I was a little pissed at this point but figured that we could manage by just going mall walking. Well, apparently here in Thailand gangs of old people clad in matching track suits do not mall walk before opening. Here, malls are closed up tight until that 11 o'clock opening. As I am frantically looking around this very nice gentleman walks up to me and says what I already suspect, that the mall is closed. So, I ask him ever so nicely to point me in the direction of Starbucks which I knew to be open. Thankfully this very nice man helped me carry the kids up to the street level and then we booked it about a quarter of a mile to the Starbucks. By this time I was steaming pissed. I mean, no. Not steaming. Boiling Pissed!
As we are waiting at the opened Star Bucks I felt the need to call the hubby and complain very loudly and very aggressively that if he didn't fire the man that the he himself would be in serious trouble. Poor man didn't know what hit him. All he heard was yelling and cursing and threats. SO SORRY BABE! It wasn't his fault and he didn't deserve that. Anyway, after the mall actually opened we did our errands (the hubby called me more that day to check in then he probably has in our entire 10 years of marriage!), and then called the crappy Mr. O to come and pick us up. Even though the hubby told the company not to tell Mr.O about his firing until the end of the day when his driving duties were over, I walk out to find him in a very heated conversation on his cell phone. Turns out I do understand a few words of Thai (or he was throwing some English into this conversation) because I understood the words "my fault" and "madam" (what he called me) very well.
Here is where the scary part really starts. Since he was so pissed about what happened, he decided to put the life of my babies and mine in jeopardy by driving like a crazy person all the way home. Speeding. Taking turns way too fast. Almost flipping the van around tight corners. Going 40 in a 20 through our neighborhood. Flying over speed bumps. And that is only naming a few of the bad things. When we got home I was so thankful to God that he watched over us and that we made it. Once I unloaded the groceries (Mr.O usually did this as well as he usually let us out of the car, which he did not this time) I told him we were done and went in the house to tell the hubby about the latest stunt of bad driving.
After a chat about all the crappy things Mr.O had done, hubby's company told him that we would have to wait a week for a new driver. The hubby responded with a very firm "NO" because I was not going to put the kids back in the car with him. After the hubby informed them about the over time incident it was clear to them that Mr.O was in fact DONE! Oh, and get this. After the new temp driver started, Khun P, our maid, walked out and saw the new man. She asked me what happened to Mr.O and I told her just a general "something not good". She said "Oh, he no like kids, hmm?" Say what??? Apparently he informed her that he didn't like my kids. Okay, dude was so lucky he wasn't around me when that revelation happened!
Anyway, we should be getting a permanent driver here soon. The hubby was told that he could interview them if he wanted. He said no, but I insisted. They need to know about me and the kids. They need to know that my kids cry. They hate the car. And, they need to be given the choice as to whether or not they want to drive for a family. In the mean time we will stick to the tricked out Sponge Bob golf cart. Oh yeah buddy. We have Sponge Bobbed it out!
Well, better jet. Until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
So, to fully understand what went down I must start at the beginning. It's rather long as we have been here for three weeks and put up with a lot, so God bless you if you get through it! Well, God you anyway, even if you don't read the whole thing ;-)
Well, it all began on a dreary, but turned sunny, Monday in Thailand. We were greeted promptly at 10:00 in front of our hotel by a very nice gentleman named Mr.O. Mr. O was to be our permanent driver for our stay here and he seemed like a very nice fellow. Great manners, spoke English, and the kids liked him. I thought to myself we hit the jackpot! No switching drivers for us, which I found out was quite the common occurrence. Anywho, he drove us to another hotel and that was the last we saw of him until house hunting concluded on Friday.
We actually saw Mr. O again the next time on Saturday. Saturday was the first day that we were going to go out on our own after being with our guides the whole week. When he came to pick us up at the hotel I was waiting in the lobby with the kids when he walked in. The hubby had ran back
upstairs to get a forgotten item so Mr. O took the opportunity to ask me why we hadn't called him all week. When I informed him that we were house hunting with our guides he asked where we were
going to live. When I told him where, boy... he actually had the nerve to tell me " oh, well, you no
ask me where I want you to live." Now, anyone who knows me in real life knows that running from confrontation is not something I do well. I run to it. Always have. Not sure why, but note to self: check with a shrink on that issue. Anyway, my filter was working very well that day and I politely deferred to my hubby. He too was a little shocked by the statement and then the follow on questions of whether or not we would reconsider. Turns out that we live about 30 plus minutes from Mr.O and he simply did not want to drive out to where we would be. At the end of the day however, I still liked the man so I asked the hubby if we should reconsider. My hubby, the ever sensible man that he is, informed me that doing so wasn't the right decision. For many reasons reconsidering would have been wrong for our family. I know that now.
So, here we are. The first Monday that hubby goes to work. Turns out that before we were even able
to talk to HR about getting a new driver (because ours still had not dropped the issue completely and kept asking us if we signed anything) Mr. O had carried himself down there to inform them that he
didn't like where we chose to live and to ask them to ask us to reconsider. Oh boy! No he didn't! But... Oh yes! He did! Since we had decided that we were in fact not going to reconsider and since
they told him the same thing, he seemed to accept his fate and informed us that he would drive for us
until they found us someone else, and that seems to be where the real trouble starts.
So, fast forward a week and we land in our new place. Mr. O decided that since he was having to
drive a car to our place instead of his normal mode of transportation ( a scooter) that he would ask for
overtime. Okay. Sounds harmless, right? Nope. Not so fast there, sparky! At first it sounded like he was asking us to " cook the books" so to speak. Hmmm... Well, we assumed the best, that it was a simple communication problem, and told him that once life got back to normal that he could expect a small amount of overtime. Well... apparently Mr.O sharpened up his English that night and came back the next day and point blank asked the hubby to sign his time sheet from 6 am to 10 pm whether he was driving or not. Let me let you guess what he said to that one, lol!
Once Mr. O realized that he wasn't going to get his fake overtime, or whatever you call it, he decided that acting like a certain four legged animal ( the lovely Jackass) was THE way to go! Several times
he showed up late to pick me and the kids up ( loved that...NOT!!), lied about how far away things were to avoid taking me places ( yep we know this for a fact since when the hubby was with me later, he would insist on going on those errands), and then the bad day happened. Now really, the bad day deserves a post all to itself, however, I will spare you some of the names and curses that I wanted to throw at this man and instead focus on "The Day".
So, I had grocery shopping to do. I felt somewhat bad about asking to go home decor shopping, but grocery shopping was something this momma had no trouble asking to do. I needed food for the babes and by God, food I was going to get! The hubby had told Mr. O to come right back after dropping him off at work. When did Mr. O show up??? Two hours later! Yep, he did! And get this... He only showed up after Hubby called him to find out where he was. Once he got here he was somewhat polite and helped me load the two little ones and off we went. As we were leaving I told him to take me to my favorite spot for shopping because I could get just about everything I needed there as well as get the big kid his lunch box for school. So picture it: white woman ( yes this important as I tend to stick out amongst all the dark skinned Thais), two blond hair blue eyed babies who draw much more attention then their mother, no stroller, ABANDONED in an underground parking garage that is attached to a CLOSED mall! Yes people, that is in fact how it all went down!
We drive up to the entry way which is in the underground part of the garage and as he is helping me get the kids out I turn to him and say " what time does it open?". You see, it was rather dark and well, I'm not from here so I had no idea! Well, what does he do? He looks at me, tells me 11 and then hops in the van and speeds off like a bat out hell before I even have the chance to tell him to wait and take us somewhere else! So here I am, two kids, alone in the underground garage. I was a little pissed at this point but figured that we could manage by just going mall walking. Well, apparently here in Thailand gangs of old people clad in matching track suits do not mall walk before opening. Here, malls are closed up tight until that 11 o'clock opening. As I am frantically looking around this very nice gentleman walks up to me and says what I already suspect, that the mall is closed. So, I ask him ever so nicely to point me in the direction of Starbucks which I knew to be open. Thankfully this very nice man helped me carry the kids up to the street level and then we booked it about a quarter of a mile to the Starbucks. By this time I was steaming pissed. I mean, no. Not steaming. Boiling Pissed!
As we are waiting at the opened Star Bucks I felt the need to call the hubby and complain very loudly and very aggressively that if he didn't fire the man that the he himself would be in serious trouble. Poor man didn't know what hit him. All he heard was yelling and cursing and threats. SO SORRY BABE! It wasn't his fault and he didn't deserve that. Anyway, after the mall actually opened we did our errands (the hubby called me more that day to check in then he probably has in our entire 10 years of marriage!), and then called the crappy Mr. O to come and pick us up. Even though the hubby told the company not to tell Mr.O about his firing until the end of the day when his driving duties were over, I walk out to find him in a very heated conversation on his cell phone. Turns out I do understand a few words of Thai (or he was throwing some English into this conversation) because I understood the words "my fault" and "madam" (what he called me) very well.
Here is where the scary part really starts. Since he was so pissed about what happened, he decided to put the life of my babies and mine in jeopardy by driving like a crazy person all the way home. Speeding. Taking turns way too fast. Almost flipping the van around tight corners. Going 40 in a 20 through our neighborhood. Flying over speed bumps. And that is only naming a few of the bad things. When we got home I was so thankful to God that he watched over us and that we made it. Once I unloaded the groceries (Mr.O usually did this as well as he usually let us out of the car, which he did not this time) I told him we were done and went in the house to tell the hubby about the latest stunt of bad driving.
After a chat about all the crappy things Mr.O had done, hubby's company told him that we would have to wait a week for a new driver. The hubby responded with a very firm "NO" because I was not going to put the kids back in the car with him. After the hubby informed them about the over time incident it was clear to them that Mr.O was in fact DONE! Oh, and get this. After the new temp driver started, Khun P, our maid, walked out and saw the new man. She asked me what happened to Mr.O and I told her just a general "something not good". She said "Oh, he no like kids, hmm?" Say what??? Apparently he informed her that he didn't like my kids. Okay, dude was so lucky he wasn't around me when that revelation happened!
Anyway, we should be getting a permanent driver here soon. The hubby was told that he could interview them if he wanted. He said no, but I insisted. They need to know about me and the kids. They need to know that my kids cry. They hate the car. And, they need to be given the choice as to whether or not they want to drive for a family. In the mean time we will stick to the tricked out Sponge Bob golf cart. Oh yeah buddy. We have Sponge Bobbed it out!
Well, better jet. Until next time, I hope all is well.
Kristen
Monday, September 24, 2012
I have a maid???
Yes, I have three question marks instead of three exclamation marks because I really did not think we would ever end up n this position. Now don't get me wrong, I really like our maid, and hiring her wasn't as difficult as I imagined. I though that maybe we would have to contact some employment agency or something, but no, she came with the house. When our landlord took us through the final walk-through this lady was walking around, following us, and cleaning as she went. Finally the landlord explained that she had hired her to clean before we arrived to make sure that we were comfortable and then told us that she spoke a little English and was willing to work for us. So, Khun P hands over her references, we hash out a price for two days a week, and BAM! We have a maid!
I never in a million years thought that I would like having a maid. Now, call me crazy all you want, but the idea that someone was going to come into my house and clean up messes that I didn't even want to clean kind of gave me the willies. Seriously, the hubby runs in the mornings and because of how hot it is here his gym clothes are soaked by the time he gets back. Reaching into the hamper and accidentally grabbing his wet clothes is a little gross to be honest with you. Khun P doesn't seem to mind however. By the time she leaves, all of our clothes (yes even the really messy stuff) is all cleaned and folded and put away. Heck, this woman even folds our underwear into nice little squares. Our towels??? Fluffy and rolled up and displayed on racks like we were staying in a hotel. Our clothes??? Folded as if they were being displayed in a fancy department store.
Now for the bad ( if you could even call it that). The other day she kicked me out of my kitchen and fussed me for cleaning my own bowel. She informed me that my cleaning supplies were not up to snuff. My broom was wrong and my iron didn't have steam. Oh, and the little ironing board was just not cutting it for her. She also laughed at the lame pots that I bought to get us through until our shipment comes in. Thankfully she assisted me in fixing all these terrible (lol) issues by coming shopping with me and helping me get set up.
Really and truly this woman is awesome. I am so glad we were given the opportunity to hire her. She likes my kids, plays with them all, entertains the middle boy so that he doesn't miss the big boy while he is at school, and to top it off , she is really good at her job. It's actually kind of nice having the help, and for $20 a day, I say she is worth every penny if not more.
So, with all of that being said, I really should get going. I just figured that since I mentioned it previously that I should at least report back on hiring a maid and how it went. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
I never in a million years thought that I would like having a maid. Now, call me crazy all you want, but the idea that someone was going to come into my house and clean up messes that I didn't even want to clean kind of gave me the willies. Seriously, the hubby runs in the mornings and because of how hot it is here his gym clothes are soaked by the time he gets back. Reaching into the hamper and accidentally grabbing his wet clothes is a little gross to be honest with you. Khun P doesn't seem to mind however. By the time she leaves, all of our clothes (yes even the really messy stuff) is all cleaned and folded and put away. Heck, this woman even folds our underwear into nice little squares. Our towels??? Fluffy and rolled up and displayed on racks like we were staying in a hotel. Our clothes??? Folded as if they were being displayed in a fancy department store.
Now for the bad ( if you could even call it that). The other day she kicked me out of my kitchen and fussed me for cleaning my own bowel. She informed me that my cleaning supplies were not up to snuff. My broom was wrong and my iron didn't have steam. Oh, and the little ironing board was just not cutting it for her. She also laughed at the lame pots that I bought to get us through until our shipment comes in. Thankfully she assisted me in fixing all these terrible (lol) issues by coming shopping with me and helping me get set up.
Really and truly this woman is awesome. I am so glad we were given the opportunity to hire her. She likes my kids, plays with them all, entertains the middle boy so that he doesn't miss the big boy while he is at school, and to top it off , she is really good at her job. It's actually kind of nice having the help, and for $20 a day, I say she is worth every penny if not more.
So, with all of that being said, I really should get going. I just figured that since I mentioned it previously that I should at least report back on hiring a maid and how it went. Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Saturday, September 22, 2012
It's only a flesh wound...
To our van that is! That's right! Our nice, no dents, no scratches, perfect condition van, was maimed by a ruthless drunk driver on a scooter! Oh, and not just any scooter mind you. Picture it... Old Thai dude, drunk as a skunk, trying to fit his mobile BBQ Pitt in between two vehicles stopped at a red light. We were just sitting there, waiting for the light to change when... BAM! I turn around and all I see is this poor old dude laying over the handle bars of his tipped up scooter. At first I was so confused because I could not for the life of me see how it happened. Our van is huge and traffic had been stopped for a while. Then I opened the door.. And the smell of alcohol almost knocked me over! There was broken beer bottles all over the ground in front of his scooter.
I think what bothered me the most about this situation was the way it was handled. Our driver got out of the van, instructed us to stay inside, spoke to the drunk scooter drive and the driver of the car he hit when trying to sandwich between us, got back in the van, SMILED at us!!, made a funny hand gesture about drinking and said " oh, too much drink", then we went on our way! Yep, nothing was done. No exchange of information. No calling the cops on the drunk guy. No shooting from the rooftops in dirty language about how drunk drivers shouldn't drive. No nothing! Heck, in the states even the health department would have been called because after the accident the scooter driver simply took out his shovel and started scraping up the coals that had come out of his BBQ Pitt that was roasting his whole pig. Yep, a whole pig! I think that was probably the freakiest part of the whole thing, you know. Looking out the back window and seeing that damn pig looking at us. Freaky!
In a country where scooters appear to outnumber vehicles 5-1, it was bound to happen. They told us it likely would. Just didn't think it would happen so soon! Thankfully we prepared by getting the kids all new carseats that worked with the crazy seat belts they have here. What's really funny about that though is that while we are riding around with two rear facing kids and a high back booster kid, people put three plus people on a scooter with no helmets all the while holding on to what apears to be a ten month old child! In fact, when stopped the other day we actually saw a man in a truck smoking, holding his baby, and driving with his knees! Good times!
Well, I had better jet. Almost time for our daily golf cart ride. Yep, my new mom mobile is a golf cart! It will be a super sweet ride once we get the flame stickers and Sponge Bob hood ornaments for it! Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
I think what bothered me the most about this situation was the way it was handled. Our driver got out of the van, instructed us to stay inside, spoke to the drunk scooter drive and the driver of the car he hit when trying to sandwich between us, got back in the van, SMILED at us!!, made a funny hand gesture about drinking and said " oh, too much drink", then we went on our way! Yep, nothing was done. No exchange of information. No calling the cops on the drunk guy. No shooting from the rooftops in dirty language about how drunk drivers shouldn't drive. No nothing! Heck, in the states even the health department would have been called because after the accident the scooter driver simply took out his shovel and started scraping up the coals that had come out of his BBQ Pitt that was roasting his whole pig. Yep, a whole pig! I think that was probably the freakiest part of the whole thing, you know. Looking out the back window and seeing that damn pig looking at us. Freaky!
In a country where scooters appear to outnumber vehicles 5-1, it was bound to happen. They told us it likely would. Just didn't think it would happen so soon! Thankfully we prepared by getting the kids all new carseats that worked with the crazy seat belts they have here. What's really funny about that though is that while we are riding around with two rear facing kids and a high back booster kid, people put three plus people on a scooter with no helmets all the while holding on to what apears to be a ten month old child! In fact, when stopped the other day we actually saw a man in a truck smoking, holding his baby, and driving with his knees! Good times!
Well, I had better jet. Almost time for our daily golf cart ride. Yep, my new mom mobile is a golf cart! It will be a super sweet ride once we get the flame stickers and Sponge Bob hood ornaments for it! Until next time, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Friday, September 14, 2012
No more eye candy, please!
When we were driving around the city with our guides it seemed that it took forever to get anywhere. They stayed on the big roads and never went down the side roads. When we are with our driver however, we seem to get where we need to go and quick. Now, I know that I wrote about hi,s um, speedy driving, but that wasn't the reason. We take the side roads. Yesterday I learned why our guides never took us down those streets. Eye candy! And boy did we get an eye full!
Personally, some of the things we saw down Eye Candy Lane I was hoping that my boys wouldn't see until they got married. Or ever really. At one point the hubby and I made eye contact (shocked eye contact) and I promptly told the big kid to put his eye muffs on. Our driver took this as an indication that liked what we were seeing (communication problem, ya think!) and announced "oh, yeah, eye candy, ha ha!" As we were driving down this street we soon realized that the desire to BE eye candy had no age limit or sex attached to it. At one point we saw this very old woman dressed in what I can only describe as a madam type outfit and I very loudly announced to the hubby that eye candy had no age. He shot me one the funniest and dirtiest looks I have ever seen! I mean seriously, this woman was dressed in an all black flapper type outfit with fringe.
And as for eye candy knowing no sex, well, if you read about the girly men in one of my previous post, you know what I mean. Once we got to our final destination the hubby looks and me and asks "did you see the really tall lady with the (insert crude hand gesture here)?" Really people, this "person" had boobs up to her chin. I kid you not! Super hard to miss. Especially since the only color on her body were strategically placed black triangles and she was standing fairly close to the road. My reply, "yes, dear sweet man of mine. And that was a man!"(Insert shocked looked from hubby here!). I still think he doesn't believe me on that one, but I stand firm on my assumption!
Anywho, once the discomfort had subsided a bit I asked the hubby to have a talk with the driver about avoiding Eye Candy Lane. Since the hubby is very non-confrontational the conversation went something along the lines of "umm, driver? Do you think maybe we could avoid going to that umm area, again? We don't really want the kids exposed that sort of thing". Not really sure if he understood or not because the hubby, like myself, has a tendency to use a lot of words when trying to get his point across, and here, a lot of words are not needed. In any event, we have hopefully put Eye Candy Lane behind us.
On a separate note, the hubby and I have identified a new species of man here in Thailand, The ROWD. As you may remember, OWD stands for "Old White Dude". The ROWD is the REALLY OWD. I kid you not, I swear we saw about a 70 something year old man with probably a 20 something year old Thai woman. The ROWD is a rare species compared to the OWD, but they do exist. And, if you are lucky enough to spot one, you will be rewarded with laughs for quite a while. Just be careful not to make eye contact as they seem a bit skittish compared to the OWD who is quite proud and out. It's... interesting to say the least!
Well, my kids are wanting to get dressed and head down for breakfast so I guess I had better jet. Until next, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Personally, some of the things we saw down Eye Candy Lane I was hoping that my boys wouldn't see until they got married. Or ever really. At one point the hubby and I made eye contact (shocked eye contact) and I promptly told the big kid to put his eye muffs on. Our driver took this as an indication that liked what we were seeing (communication problem, ya think!) and announced "oh, yeah, eye candy, ha ha!" As we were driving down this street we soon realized that the desire to BE eye candy had no age limit or sex attached to it. At one point we saw this very old woman dressed in what I can only describe as a madam type outfit and I very loudly announced to the hubby that eye candy had no age. He shot me one the funniest and dirtiest looks I have ever seen! I mean seriously, this woman was dressed in an all black flapper type outfit with fringe.
And as for eye candy knowing no sex, well, if you read about the girly men in one of my previous post, you know what I mean. Once we got to our final destination the hubby looks and me and asks "did you see the really tall lady with the (insert crude hand gesture here)?" Really people, this "person" had boobs up to her chin. I kid you not! Super hard to miss. Especially since the only color on her body were strategically placed black triangles and she was standing fairly close to the road. My reply, "yes, dear sweet man of mine. And that was a man!"(Insert shocked looked from hubby here!). I still think he doesn't believe me on that one, but I stand firm on my assumption!
Anywho, once the discomfort had subsided a bit I asked the hubby to have a talk with the driver about avoiding Eye Candy Lane. Since the hubby is very non-confrontational the conversation went something along the lines of "umm, driver? Do you think maybe we could avoid going to that umm area, again? We don't really want the kids exposed that sort of thing". Not really sure if he understood or not because the hubby, like myself, has a tendency to use a lot of words when trying to get his point across, and here, a lot of words are not needed. In any event, we have hopefully put Eye Candy Lane behind us.
On a separate note, the hubby and I have identified a new species of man here in Thailand, The ROWD. As you may remember, OWD stands for "Old White Dude". The ROWD is the REALLY OWD. I kid you not, I swear we saw about a 70 something year old man with probably a 20 something year old Thai woman. The ROWD is a rare species compared to the OWD, but they do exist. And, if you are lucky enough to spot one, you will be rewarded with laughs for quite a while. Just be careful not to make eye contact as they seem a bit skittish compared to the OWD who is quite proud and out. It's... interesting to say the least!
Well, my kids are wanting to get dressed and head down for breakfast so I guess I had better jet. Until next, I hope all is well!
Kristen
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Jack talk Thai very well.....
Well, Jack may talk Thai very well, but this Southern Louisiana native does not! (kudos to you if you got the movie reference!). It seems that since I have been here that I have had to resort to grunting and pointing in order to get my point across in some cases. I realize that to some that may sound rude, however, our culture training expert assured us that it was an effect and accepted form of communication. In any event, I have also found another good form of communication. Ready for this? It will blow your mind. When a person is trying to ask you a question in another language and you have no earthly idea what they are trying to ask you, simple look lost and begin looking around frantically for the nearest person who speaks both languages! Yeah, I know. Rocket science, right???
No, seriously though, I did have that happen to me the other day in a home store. I was looking for bedding and the very nice sales girl kept asking me if i had some sort of card . I assumed she meant credit card and was just using the wrong word. So, since we were clearly having a misunderstanding and since standing there playing charades with her was getting us no where, i began my frantic search for the nearest bilingual speaker, my guide in this case. Turns out, the darn lady was no where to be found and I was left to figure it out on my own. And figure it out I did! As it turns out she was asking me if I had an index card. Since I originally assumed she was using the wrong word for credit card and then made a second assumption that she wanted to see my shopping list (seemed sort of intrusive but whatever), it never dawned on me that I was standing in a store called "Index". The poor sales lady was simply asking me if I had a shoppers savers card (not in so many words mind you) because it would adjust the price by 5%. Boy did I feel like an ass after that one, lol! Once we got the whole thing figured out my sweet guide showed up (thanks for nothing in this case!).
So, with that incident behind me I realized something about the way I speak. I use way too many words. Seriously, the English language is awesome. Like, LOVE it!. However, we have a lot of fillers in our sentences, and using less words, especially here, will get your point across so much better. For instance, when I went back to Index to finish my shopping I told the sales lady "I would like to look at something cheaper" when she told me the price of the bedding that I wanted . What she heard however was "blah, blah, blah, cheaper". I know this to be true because she looked at me all cheery and and asked "cheaper?". So after I realized this, may day consisted of questions the likes of "cheaper? different color? " and sentences the likes of "no, no like." English teachers would be having a field day! Oh, I have also found that carrying around a book with pictures of the things you want and then pointing at the picture also helps. Just throwing that out there.
Anyway, communication problems aside, things are going okay over here at the moment. We move tomorrow to our permanent place and hopefully life will settle down somewhat. I'm looking forward to being able to cook more as well as I do believe that my stomach can take no more exotic food. Moving to somewhere where the food is shall we say "different" is THE BEST diet ever, by the way! So, until next time I hope all is well!
Kristen
No, seriously though, I did have that happen to me the other day in a home store. I was looking for bedding and the very nice sales girl kept asking me if i had some sort of card . I assumed she meant credit card and was just using the wrong word. So, since we were clearly having a misunderstanding and since standing there playing charades with her was getting us no where, i began my frantic search for the nearest bilingual speaker, my guide in this case. Turns out, the darn lady was no where to be found and I was left to figure it out on my own. And figure it out I did! As it turns out she was asking me if I had an index card. Since I originally assumed she was using the wrong word for credit card and then made a second assumption that she wanted to see my shopping list (seemed sort of intrusive but whatever), it never dawned on me that I was standing in a store called "Index". The poor sales lady was simply asking me if I had a shoppers savers card (not in so many words mind you) because it would adjust the price by 5%. Boy did I feel like an ass after that one, lol! Once we got the whole thing figured out my sweet guide showed up (thanks for nothing in this case!).
So, with that incident behind me I realized something about the way I speak. I use way too many words. Seriously, the English language is awesome. Like, LOVE it!. However, we have a lot of fillers in our sentences, and using less words, especially here, will get your point across so much better. For instance, when I went back to Index to finish my shopping I told the sales lady "I would like to look at something cheaper" when she told me the price of the bedding that I wanted . What she heard however was "blah, blah, blah, cheaper". I know this to be true because she looked at me all cheery and and asked "cheaper?". So after I realized this, may day consisted of questions the likes of "cheaper? different color? " and sentences the likes of "no, no like." English teachers would be having a field day! Oh, I have also found that carrying around a book with pictures of the things you want and then pointing at the picture also helps. Just throwing that out there.
Anyway, communication problems aside, things are going okay over here at the moment. We move tomorrow to our permanent place and hopefully life will settle down somewhat. I'm looking forward to being able to cook more as well as I do believe that my stomach can take no more exotic food. Moving to somewhere where the food is shall we say "different" is THE BEST diet ever, by the way! So, until next time I hope all is well!
Kristen
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