Help, I'm trapped in a Mexican Prison...
Well, not exactly. But I have survived six days nonstop with my husband's family and have 4 more to go. I declare, I'm drained. And our baby is teething so at night (when I might presumably have some sort of reprieve) I just am managing to a new series of chaotic events. Basically, my son has declared Jihad on sleep. And because he's sharing the same king size bed as my husband and I on this trip, our sleep as well is somewhat staccato, to put it mildly. And of course every morning the rest of the crew is outside our door bright and early to start the day. Usually, I get to answer 500 questions about what I would like to do, like for them to do, stupid decisions and choices. All of this before I've had nary a sip of coffee. And I think my silence is working until I look over and have all these big sets of eyes staring at me for an answer...
A major cultural difference is this: In my culture, when someone is constantly taking over what your doing and offering unsolicited help, advice, and input -- it is sort of a tacit signal that they think you're not capable of doing it, or they can do it better. My husband says it is a cultural difference and they are trying to be helpful. But honestly, I don't need help and questions for every single F-ing thing I set out to do all day -- from getting my son a wipee to deciding he needs medicine.
For example, I got all this resistance by way of "alternatives" when I brought up the absurd idea of actually giving him some tylenol. Nevermind that two of my critics don't have children, and my husband's mom (bless her) last took care of a baby around the time Seymour Cray was inventing the first supercomputer. Needless to say, remedies and the technology of making a teething infant more comfortable have come a long way.
My son is now so spoiled that if someone dares walk by him without making a ridiculous fuss, he let's out a huge walloping wail. I am the only (native) English speaking person here and I tend to be more of a "writer" and a "thinker" than a talker -- so needless to say my son now speaks Spanish. Also great about this scenario is that if I ask a question or want to request something of someone local or one of the people who works here, if my sister in law disagrees with me, she just doesn't translate it. I speak enough Spanish to know when my requests are being "altered." It reminds me of LOST IN TRANSLATION when Bill Murray is trying to know what the Director is telling him and the translator is obviously leaving out many of the details. Maddening!
Mostly, I just find the constant attention and "help" to be exhausting. I also am glad I've found so many people to help me with my diet. If I was thinking about having anything fun and not feeling guilty about it, thank goodness I have 3 other people around to remind me how fattening everything is and ignore me when they're dividing up portions of something good--like cake, or flan, or what not. Thankfully my sister-in-law is constantly vigilant of my diet to the extent that all fun and whimsy has pretty much been beat to death out of my vacation.
I also love how every moment of my son's life is documented in photos, which I have to download each day and if I dare delete anything that is fuzzy or just a shitty picture I hear a gasp and a sigh and lot's of judgement permeates the air around me. I dared delete a photo that we had at least 25 more of because it was blurry and was told loudly and insistently in spanish that I could "fix it" in photo editor.
There are people in the witness protection program who feel less watched than me. I am constantly under supervision as I walk around with him, comfort him, or just try to have a quiet moment with him. I can't even take a dump here without someone knocking on the damn door. Sorry to be crude, but this together time is really something. Thank god I'm so constipated or else I'd be pretty annoyed.
Otherwise, everything is going GREAT! lol. Hope everyone has had a great Thanksgiving. We're venturing out into the great city (where hopefully I can break away for 5 minutes from the pack) a bit later.
Pray for me!
Photo of the Cray Supercomputer
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