Ramblings of a pseudo intellectual

Lane is very aural.  Sometimes you think she’s not listening… and she acts like she’s not listening… but she is.  She always is!  She can nearly always tell you what you just said even if she was in another room.

She picks up people’s phrases very quickly.  Like, I call Jake “buddy”, so does Lane.  I say “oh man” when something goes wrong, so does Lane.  I say “dammit” when get ticked off, and much to my chagrin, so does Lane.  (We’re working on that one, mainly through not acknowledging when she says it.  It’s working.)

When we got down to Aruba, we reunited with Lane after she’d spent 2 full days with her grandparents.  And, she picked up a phrase in Czech from them.  I cannot spell it to save my life but it sounds like “Oh, Pour Cheats!”  This is something they utter when something gets screwed up, or they are trying to do something but they can’t quite make it work right.  I haven’t asked for a translation to English but it’s a mild curse.  So, Lane said it a couple times in the first evening we were there, and we all giggled.  (Yeah, I know, it only encourages her.  But it was funny.)

Out of curiosity, I asked her what it meant.  She said, “It means Grandma’s trying to do something!”

We had a make-up Easter dinner at the in-laws’ today.  It was OK.

So, there’s this thing with my in-laws.  They are from the Czech Republic; they came to the U.S. in the late 60s.  They met here, married, had my husband, and in that time found a whole network of Czech people to be friends with, who also mostly came here as adults in the late 60s or early 70s.  Thus, everyone they socialize with is Czech and speaks Czech.

Except me.

(They all speak English, too… but none have the conversational English skills like they do in their native tongue.)

In most circumstances this isn’t a big deal.  When it’s just us, my in-laws largely speak English.  However, the more Czech people you add, the lower the likelihood of conversations taking place in English.

Today’s dinner wasn’t just us.  It was also my husband’s aunt & uncle (both Czech) and another woman they are friends with (also, Czech).  The gobbledy-gook abounded.

After being around the Czech-speak for years and years now, I can make some of it out.  I can listen to most Czech conversations and figure out the general subject, both from the smattering of Czech words I know and the occasional English words that lack suitable Czech translations thrown in.  (The first time I heard Frank speak Czech was on a phone call from college to his parents, where he was telling them he had mono.  The conversation went something like this: “Blahbitty blah blah mono blah blah health center blabbity blah blah swollen glands.”)

So anyway… today = lots of Czech people = not so much English spoken.  Frank, lovely man he is, often tries to steer the conversation back to English.  But if he’s not involved in the conversation, or isn’t in the room, there’s little hope for me.  I know that there is no malicious intention here.  These folks are most comfortable speaking Czech, and it’s just sort of their default setting.  And I’m outnumbered.

This all used to make me feel nothing but outrage, and scorn, and rejection.  Part of me realizes that really, my attendance at these social gatherings pits me as a stranger in a foreign land.  I do still feel like there is a level of rudeness in their negligence to not try to actively include me in conversations, like where I’m sitting at the dinner table with them and they are blabbering on in Czech… but it’s been so ongoing I’m sort of numb to it, too.  I have made a habit of sort of staring blankly into space when they speak in Czech, and I find it’s quite effective to switch them back to English, at which point I start paying attention and smiling and looking engaged and interested.  (That psychology degree does come in handy sometimes… operant conditioning, anyone?)

It does help that I know it’s not malicious, and they do make an effort: it’s not like I sit there for four hours without a word of English being spoken!  I would say that today, it was maybe 60% Czech, 40% English when I wasn’t being directly spoken to.

Anyway, I’m getting all rambly and I’m sorry.  After these gatherings I always feel a little disorganized and out of sorts, and just generally blah at not feeling like I have a solid place in the inner circle, or something.  Then there’s just the general frustration at the language barrier thing.  How do I fix it?  Do I become a bratty diva and insist everyone speak English around me?  Do I take all my oodles of free time (note of sarcasm here) and try to learn more Czech?  Should I just make sure my kids don’t learn Czech so I always have at least someone to talk to?

We’re going to Aruba in a week and a half with the in-laws.  Yes, I’m excited about going to Aruba… not quite as excited about spending 8 solid days with my in-laws but I’d rather be in Aruba with them than here in the cold without them.

Lane is going down with them, two days before we go.  We’re talking up how she’s going to go to the beach with Grandma and Grandpa and how much fun she’s going to have, and all in all I think it will be good.

Tonight and tomorrow night, though, we’re doing a sleepover trial run, where she’s spending tonight and tomorrow night at the in-laws’.  Despite missing her a bit, I certainly don’t need the trial run.  When we suggested it to the in-laws, it was intended with two purposes - for Lane to experience two nights away from us before she has to do it a five-hour plane ride away from us, and for the in-laws to get a feel for what it’s like to spend 48 straight hours with Lane, without a break except at night.  For either part of the equation, I’d like them to experience any kinks now, when we’re just a phone call and a 4 minute drive away.

And… just maybe… I can get the house cleaned up tomorrow too.  Jake doesn’t have the knack for utter destruction that his sister has.  But he does like to put his feet in the dog’s water an awful lot.

We were supposed to see a house this morning at 9:30.  The owner is apparently particular about when people can see this house, so will only let people book morning appointments.  No sweat, Frank could go too.  (I’ve been previewing some houses just on my own to cull the lot of ones that Frank might go back to see, too.)

We get there, and our realtor - my MIL’s best friend and a lovely woman and someone who is perpetually early for everything - isn’t there yet.  This is odd, so I immediately check my cell phone for messages.  I discover the phone was set to silent (oops) and there are four messages.

Message 1 (8:30 a.m.):  Our realtor.  The people have canceled the appointment, and she doesn’t want us to go out unnecessarily with the kids.  OK.

After hearing this message, I tell Frank the appointment was canceled and he gets back into his car and heads off to work.  I get back into my car, where the kids are still in their car seats, and continue to go through the messages.

Message 2 (9:09 a.m.):  Realtor again, trying to reach us.  She also tried emailing me.  If I get this message, please call her.

Message 3 (9:14):  My mother in-law.  The realtor has called HER because she can’t reach us.  Um, why, I wonder?  MIL wonders why I’m not answering the phone and please call them and the realtor.

Message 4 (9:27):  My father in-law.  Why aren’t you answering your phone, Lisa?  The appointment is canceled!

OH MY GOODNESS.

I start driving away, and notice a familiar Lexus in my rear-view mirror, honking and flashing its lights at me.  The in-laws have driven to where the appointment was (I’d told them the evening before the street the house was on that we were supposed to see today).  They have come to notify us that the appointment was canceled.  Oh, and scold me for being unreachable by cell phone for a whole hour.

Oh, my goodness.  OH MY GOODNESS!  Can I say it enough!?!  OH. MY. GOODNESS!!!!!

I’m not sure if the inclination to make a mountain out of a mole hill is particular to my in-laws, or if it’s a Czech thing in general (my in-laws are Czech, they came to the U.S. in the late 60s).  Why on earth is it necessary to turn this minor non-event into a crisis?  If they weren’t so normal and nice and reasonable most of the time, I might think they were lunatics.

As in, “I wish I had…”

But alas, most of yesterday and today I have had zero inspiration to write more then 20 words about anything.  So let me give you a few 20-odd-word snippets of thought tumbling about in my brain.

Christmas Tree Shops ran out of loveseat slipcovers.  This really disappointed me.  They were cheap and I need slipcovers.  Our couch & loveseat are in need of a good slipcovering.

I’m supposed to be at the in-laws’ right now for dinner, but sent the kids & husband over while I did the previously-mentioned errand.  I’ll leave to go there soon.

I am at a point where I would seriously pay upwards of hundreds of dollars for my son to sleep through the night.  But not yet at a point where I want to night wean him to accomplish that.

Peeps are yummy.

I might be getting a part time job.  Not because I need it, but because I want to.  More details as I feel like talking about it.

Eh, I guess that’s it.  I should head over the to in-laws’ before they eat dinner without me.

We’re currently living as transients.  In October, we sold our nice, roomy, on-over-an-acre house, I quit my promising career to become a stay-at-home mom, and we moved to a very small apartment in another state.

We moved to another state because we were bribed, quite frankly.  It all started before Jake was born.  I was still all into my career, not pregnant with Jake yet but I think we were trying, and a couple different really good positions came up in my company, that both offered great learning opportunities for me and the possibility of permanent part-time work, but they were both at another location, a state away.  Frank and I had some serious talks about moving so I could pursue them.  And, I mentioned it in passing to my in-laws.  My mother in-law lamented that we already lived so far away (over an hour by car) and this would make us even farther.  Couldn’t we consider moving closer to them?  And, in a rare display of subtle manipulation on my part, I answered, “Honestly, we would truly love to live near you guys.  But real estate there is even more expensive than it is here, and if we move again, it will be so that I can work part-time, or maybe even not at all after we have another baby or two.”

And the next day, something happened, exactly as I thought it might when I opened the door to the possibility.  My in-laws offered to help us buy a house in their town.  We wholeheartedly accepted.  Their town has one of the better, sought-after school districts in the state.  Plus my in-laws, 95% of the time, are really nice, thoughtful, helpful, funny people.  I can live near them without losing my sanity.  And once we entered parenthood, we were honestly sad that we didn’t live near any family.

As we’d planned this major event, my mother in-law kept wishing aloud that the house next door to them would go on the market.  This house currently belongs to a family that my husband is friendly with; their son was a year younger than him, and Frank and he spent countless hours of their youth together.  Frank broke his leg playing football in their backyard; the son was a groomsman at our wedding, though he and Frank are not exactly stellar at staying in touch.  So the MIL kept hoping they would sell their house, because wouldn’t it be just PERFECT if we could live RIGHT NEXT DOOR?!?!

And I smiled and nodded, and agreed, sure, it would be great.  The house wasn’t on the market, so I entertained her with some feigned enthusiasm.

So, October 1, we move into town, into our tiny interim apartment while we get used to living in the area and start househunting (and also just making sure we aren’t making a huge mistake).  And not two weeks later… oh you guessed it, that house next door went on the market.

I had some serious soul-searching to do.  Would it really be great - even tolerable - to live next door to my in-laws?  Sure, they really are great people 95% of the time, but we’ve certainly had our moments.  Once they took Lane in a car without a car seat (though I can guarantee you it will never happen again).  They are opinionated to a fault, especially my mother in-law.  MIL also, I swear, goes out of her way to disagree with me on things.  Though through this, one redeeming quality has surfaced - my father in-law is often quite quick to come to my defense and side with me (which makes me giddy beyond belief when it happens).   But again, they have their good qualities — kind and caring, generous, helpful, fun-loving and adventurous.  They are really good with their grandkids, especially as Lane has gotten bigger and Jake is just the mellowest baby in the world (and it doesn’t hurt that he loves his grandpa more than almost anything in the world).

So, with the consensus between Frank and I that we are OK living next door to them, we have started pursuing the house.  Since we know the owners well, and they seem to just adore Frank, right now we’re all exploring the possibility of buying the house outside the realtor process.  The house is just a little out of our price range at its current listing price (even with the help we’re getting from the in-laws), but without a 6% realtor commission in the mix, they can take a lower offer from us without really taking a loss, and for that house we’re willing to take on just a slightly higher mortgage than we would otherwise.  It might mean we can’t make an offer until June, but I think we can live with that.  We might also see about renting the house before buying it, since it will soon be vacant.  (They are selling because the parents are getting a divorce.  What a shocker!  None of us predicted that.  But according to the son, it is an excellent move for them; they apparently were just going through the motions for the last, like, 10 years or so.  Their kids were encouraging them to divorce, even.)

The whole thing is exciting and nerve-wracking and fun and scary and oodles of other emotions all at once.  And importantly too, it’s a great house.  I can definitely picture myself living there… and I want to live there!  Now we just have to make it happen.