The Household COO

Since we got married, the hubby has been encouraging me to take cooking lessons from his Mum so that I can learn to cook his favourite dishes. While I am open to the idea of improving my haphazard and makeshift cooking style, I have found it rather difficult to learn how to cook under the tutelage of my MIL.  It was only recently that it really hit me as to why I ran into such difficulties…

I guess the fundamental problem lies in the fact that my MIL doesn’t trust modern technology, whereas I depend upon it like my body relies upon the blood in my veins.  I believe in automating and letting a machine do the hardwork because that is fundamentally what a machine was created to do - to make our lives easier. 

My reliance on technology extends well beyond the four walls of a kitchen.  For instance, when I used to live in Melbourne, I never visited a bank personally.  If I needed money, there was the ATM (and later EFTPOS where I could also withdraw money from the cashier’s till while buying my groceries).  If I needed to pay a bill, there was telephone banking (internet banking was still relatively in its infancy at that time). 

I throw everything in the washing machine, even the clothes with labels that state “handwash”.  While my MIL believes that handwashing produces cleaner clothes, I believe that nothing cleans better than the washing machine.  To my MIL, bread that isn’t kneaded by hand doesn’t taste as good, while I happily throw everything into the mixer for kneading.  I don’t particularly enjoy making bread by hand because I dislike getting dough stuck to my fingers.

In the kitchen, the microwave is my best friend.  In the kitchen, the stove is my MIL’s best friend.  I don’t trust myself to cook rice in anything other than a rice cooker.  My MIL prefers to use a pot to cook her chicken rice.  Even when her rice cooker went on the blink, she resisted using my rice cooker, claiming it was too “complicated” for her with all its fancy functions.

I like my machines because they allow me to just push a button and let everything run with minimal monitoring and guess work required by me.  For instance, one morning I wanted to steam a bun for my son and I started preparing the rice cooker since it has a steam function.  My MIL saw me and asked why didn’t I just use a wok with some water since it was faster.  Sure it may be faster but I would have to wait until the water was boiling and then I would have to keep checking on the flame and the bun to make sure everything was okay.  The steam function on the rice cooker, on the other hand, would do everything by itself and I would be able to prepare my own breakfast without having to worry about the bun.

Beyond our technological differences, the other difficulty I meet lies in the fact that my MIL often cooks using her instincts for quantities.  She doesn’t have a specific recipe that states, for example, 1 tablespoon, 3 cups, etc.  My scientific mind that dislikes having to “guesstimate” quantities, prefers specific instructions and quantities.  In order to replicate someone else’s masterpiece, how else can it be achieved if you don’t have their exact method?

This was the reason why I wanted to shoot a friend of mine who once gave me his “famous” mushroom soup recipe that merely listed the ingredients that went into it but not the quantities.  Anyone with a little bit of cooking sense can make a guess at what ingredients are required in mushroom soup, but getting a great tasting soup requires knowledge of ingredient quantities.

I suppose I sound rather spoilt by technology and perhaps rather lazy to do things by hand.  However, to me, it’s all about speed, efficiency, multi-tasking, minimising errors and simplifying processes.  Yeah, I guess that what having worked in the corporate world does to you…

Some time back when I was helping my MIL prepare some of the worship items for Charlie’s grandmother’s death anniversary, my MIL was telling me about some relative’s experience with their dead daughter’s spirit.  We were folding up the shiny bits of paper into shapes that resemble gold ingots from the olden days of Chinese history.  During the worship session, the paper gold ingots are burned as a means of transferring them to the spirit world so that the dead have money to buy the things they need.  You can also burn other things, like paper clothes, paper shoes and paper cars so that the dead have clothes to wear and a car to get around the afterlife in. 

My MIL was telling me that nowadays you could even buy paper bras to burn for the dead if you wanted to and they even come in different sizes!  She remarked that she thought this was a bit much and I naturally agreed.  Even burning the paper seemed a bit silly to me, although I got into the swing of pyromania pretty easily because I’ve always found it interesting to see flames and burning paper. 

Perhaps my MIL felt bad for ridiculing the beliefs of her religion, but she proceeded to tell me a story about some relatives.  This ceremony of burning things for the dead can only be performed by the live children in honour of their dead parents.  In the event where a child’s demise preceeds the parents, the parents are not allowed to burn things for their child’s use in the afterlife.  In the case of our relatives, the daughter passed away before the parents.  Being unable to burn things for her, my MIL said the dead daughter’s spirit returned to tell her parents that she was suffering in the afterlife because she had no money to buy food or clothes.  Since the parents can’t do the offerings, her sibblings had to burn the paper money and clothes for her.

As my MIL related that story to me, I merely nodded acceptingly, deciding that it was not worth the argument to dispute what our relatives experienced.  The whole time I listened, though, I was extremely skeptical.  I realise that this is the stance I switch into whenever I hear stories about spirits in this world.  It probably seems odd that I am a Christian, though more and more, I fear that there is a part of me that believes that nothing happens after we die.  We merely cease to exist.

Despite hearing from time to time about people who are more “sensitive” to spirits in our world, never having had a personal experience of my own to relate to, I can’t help the skepticism with which I view the subject.  Although I listen accommodatingly and I never openly dispute the experiences of others, the scientist in me finds logical explainations of what really happened.

It has also occured to me that perhaps I don’t want to believe because I fear such things.  The idea that spirits move around with us isn’t a particularly pleasant one in my book, even if they are friendly ones.

Even though I think it would be nice to have something to go to after we die, I question whether such a place exists to accommodate the growing number of souls that travel there.  I mean, even on Earth, our growing population is sapping the resources of our world.  Surely the afterlife (if it even exists) would have long since exhausted their resources with the never ending influx of souls when no souls leave?

The following post was originally written in Babylicious.  It has been copied here because having a Pui-Yuet for a month was another Chinese tradition I had to get accustomed to after I got married. 

If you have read any of my previous confinement posts, you may be aware that it is common practice in Asia for a “pui-yuet” (companion for the month) to live in with the new family to help look after mother and baby in the first month after delivery. This is an age-old practice that continues to provide a lot of benefits to both mother and child. The only problem in recent times is the difficulty of finding a good pui-yuet.

I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t keen on the idea of having a stranger live in my house and look after my newborn son and myself. After being forced to endure “the month”, I have to say that having a pui-yuet isn’t without its benefits. For instance, after breastfeeding the baby at night, she was there to burp Gavin, change his diaper and put him back to sleep while I got some much needed rest. Breastfed babies feed every two to three hours after birth, so poor Mummy would probably not get any rest at all if she had to do all these things on her own. Since Mummy is still recovering from the delivery, rest is a good thing to have.

In the months leading up to my delivery, we were looking high and low for a pui-yuet to look after Gavin and me. I heard a lot of horror stories about pui-yuets who didn’t respect the mothers right to breastfeed, who demanded obscene amounts of money, who ate the nourishing confinement foods that were supposed to given to the mother, and the list goes on. None of these stories did anything to allay my gripes about having a pui-yuet in my house.

When my MIL finally found a pui-yuet for me, they spoke at length to ensure that this pui-yuet would not give us any of the nonsense we had heard about. We also wanted to make sure that she was clear on her responsibilities. Since the pui-yuet came highly recommended by a relative, we were a little more relaxed.

Due to my confinement overlapping Chinese New Year, I only had my pui-yuet for three weeks. Actually, it was probably more like two weeks because I spent much of the first week in the hospital with Gavin who was jaundiced. Aside from a few misunderstandings, things with my pui-yuet went quite well - well enough for me to recommend her to a friend of mine who was delivering her baby in Australia and looking for hired help.

After the things my friend told me that she did, I feel terrible that I recommended her. For instance, she demanded her own TV from my friend so she could watch her Chinese soaps. Then when they were shopping, the pui-yuet would ask my friend and her mother to buy her some t-shirts she wanted to buy and when it came to the payment of those t-shirts, she told my friend to take the money from the “red packet”.

Let me clarify this point for those who are not in the know. Aside from the payment for the pui-yuet’s services, some expect a red packet. The red packet is a token amount of the MIL’s choice that is given to the pui-yuet at the end of the month. As far as I understand, the symbolism of the red pack is to balance the “good will” - something akin to “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours”. When the pui-yuet comes to help the new family, it is considered that she is doing a favour to the family (even though she gets paid for it). In the Chinese culture, a favour that is given (whether in the form of a gift or an action) must always be returned.

According to my MIL, it is only in more recent times that a red packet is given. Historically, what the pui-yuet is given is an outfit for her to wear. The substitution of the outfit with the red packet is one of convenience. It is also worth noting that since we had our pui-yuet during Chinese New Year, she is also supposed to be given a red packet because the occasion demands it. Yup, Chinese New Year is a very expensive time of year to hire a pui-yuet. Not only do you have to give her two red packets but you also have to pay her double because it’s like working through Christmas.

Much of the problems with pui-yuets lie with the fact that a lot of these arrangements are made by word of mouth. Often there are no written credentials for you to check her out capabilities and you don’t get to test her until the day your baby is born. There are also no written agreements for the work she is required to do. Since there are a lot of unspoken rules with pui-yuets that one wouldn’t know unless you were familiar with the culture, it often gives rise to misunderstandings during the month.

Here are some of those unspoken rules and expectations:

1. A pui-yuet is only responsible for the mother and baby. Any work outside of those responsibilities are not part of her duty. That means, she isn’t required to do any housework except wash the clothes that belong to the mother and baby, and the dishes that were used by the mother and baby. That also means she doesn’t have to cook for the father, wash his clothes or anything else that belongs to the father. Some pui yuets will do housework if you are willing to pay them extra.

2. A pui-yuet’s responsibilities does not include her own meals. Some pui yuets will overlook this point but the more picky ones will expect their meals to be provided for them. Some picky ones will also expect more money if they are required to cook for themselves.

3. A pui-yuet is employed for 28 days. It commences on the day the baby is born and ends on the day of the baby’s full moon. Even if mother and baby are still at the hospital and cannot be discharged, the one month count-down has begun and the pui-yuet’s time is ticking.

4. As mentioned earlier, a pui-yuet that is hired for a month that includes Chinese New Year has to be paid double. An additional red packet is also given for Chinese New Year.

5. At the end of the month, a red packet is given to the pui-yuet as a token of appreciation for her efforts (this is additional to the amount agreed upon for her services for the month). There is no stipulated amount - it works a little like a tip. The happier you are with her services the more you can put inside the red packet - usually $100 - $200. Unlike a tip, you still have to give her something even if you think her services are poor, you just give her less. I think a red packet containing $1 shouts volumes about what you thought of her services.

6. According to the traditional hierarchy, the pui-yuet is only answerable to the MIL. This goes even if the person paying for the pui-yuet happens to be the father or the mother. Even though I was aware of this, I was still surprised to hear from my friend that the pui-yuet was more accommodating when her MIL gave the instructions but completely ignored her own mother. It was quite amusing to note as well that when my MIL was standing watch over my pui-yuet as she changed Gavin’s diaper, her normally calm and experienced manner with which she handled him was suddenly all thumbs.

7. For whatever reason, if you discharge the pui-yuet early, she still has to be paid the full amount agreed upon unless it was a mutual agreement to part ways before the end of the month. For instance, in my case, we decided we didn’t need the pui-yuet after Chinese New Year and she herself wanted to take on another job that would overlap with mine if she were to finish the month with me. We agreed to pro-rate her pay and part ways.

There are also a few additional points that a new mother ought to be aware of when she looks for a pui-yuet which have nothing to do with tradition. From my understanding, most pui-yuets are not in favour of breast-feeding so it is best to be clear on your desire to breastfeed during your preliminary discussions. Please do not end up like a friend of mine who lamented to me that the result of her inability to breastfeed was due to her pui-yuet who sabotaged her efforts to breastfeed.

It is speculated that pui-yuets do not encourage breastfeeding because of the increased night duty involved. Breastfed babies are thought to require more night time responsibilities such as frequent stirrings for night feeds and diaper changes. Don’t quote me on this - it is just a theory.

Pui-yuets also have their own way of doing things so if you have a specific way you want your baby to be bathed or handled, it is best to get this cleared up front to avoid battles during the month when you will be in no condition to argue your point. It is unfortunate but pui-yuets tend to bully the new mother if there are any disagreements on how the baby should be handled. This is a time when a stern talk from the MIL will come in handy.

The best way to avoid an unpleasantness is to discuss everything and outline your expectations before agreeing to sign on the pui-yuet. Hash out any potential problems you can anticipate before the actual month takes place. If your mother or MIL is engaging the pui-yuet on your behalf, make sure you meet her before hand because you are the one who has to live with her. One month is a long time to be with someone you don’t get along with.

Is it true that no matter what happens, MILs and DILs will never bond or have the kind of relationship that exists only on TV?

A friend recently told me that even though her boyfriend’s mother liked her and they got along “okay”, she never quite felt like she was entirely within the circle of trust. No matter what happened, she was still always the outsider.

It got me thinking and I’ve realised this was quite true for me as well. I get along just fine with my MIL and there is no animosity of any sort. When I started dating the hubby and when we decided to get married, she welcomed me with open arms. Unlike the movie “Monster in Law”, which is probably every woman’s deepest fear, I never had to go through anything like that.

I used to think it was just my personality that kept a distance between us. I’m quite an aloof person and getting close to people is not something I’m at ease with. I don’t exactly have a close relationship with my own mother who has known me since I was born so why on earth would I expect to have one with someone I’ve only known for a couple of years?

But in spite of the sometimes estranged relationship that I have with my mother, we still have a closer relationship than I could ever hope to have with my MIL. It may have taken us my whole upbringing for my mother and I to come to the easy existence we have now, but at least we understand each other and we accept each other as we are.

Though I had originally thought that it my own personal issues with intimacy that resulted in the relationship that we have, living with my in laws has made me realise I cannot claim all the credit, or the lack of, for creating the gap between my MIL and I. The fact remains I am not within the circle of trust.

I’m sure the hubby will tell me I’m being silly and that my MIL adores me otherwise why would she have gone through the trouble of making nourishing food for me to consume when I was pregnant? Well, I’m not debating that my MIL has a genuine concern for my well-being. What I’m trying to point out is that there still remains an invisible barrier and exists between every MIL and DIL. That barrier is just thicker between some MILs and DILs than others.

How do I know that I’m not in the circle of trust? The most obvious is when she speaks to the hubby in Hokkien about matters that should involve me (for instance, my son’s welfare) even though I’m also at the dining table. We all know I barely understand a word of Hokkien and my MIL is fluent in English. Other times she will tell the hubby in Hokkien to tell me to do something even though she’s sitting opposite of me and is fully able to tell me so herself.

My MIL often does not directly ask me for help. She usually asks my husband to ask me for help. If she is reluctant to trouble me, that reluctance speaks louder than words that I am not in the circle of trust. When she does talk to me about her concerns, I find it hard to understand what her real concerns are because it is as though she speaks to me in riddles and assumes I’ll understand the hidden meaning when clearly I do not.

In psychology, we learned about mother-son and father-daughter relationships. For a mother who has been the only woman in her son’s eyes up until the age when he starts dating, I guess it’s often hard to totally let go. No matter how hard she tries, there will be a part of her that sees her son’s girlfriend or wife as the person who has taken away her son. Likewise for fathers it will be their daughter’s boyfriend or husband who takes away their little girl. And even though some parents will accept this change more readily than others, there will always remain a barrier.

It is true because I’ve seen the hubby struggling in his relationship with my father. It has always been my father who had issues with my past boyfriends and never my mother, while it would be my brother’s girlfriends who would have difficulties with my mother.

I guess when my own son grows up and gets married, only then will I finally understand my MIL.