04/21/23 - People saying that they touched water for a split second and skin peeled off of their hand?
Someone seeks advice, “I cut all of my bread rolls in half, and my MIL said it was rude. I don’t live with her, she just visits occasionally. I bought a bunch of rolls today, and my husband took two. The rest were mine. I was pretty hungry and thought I could finish the rest, so I cut all of them in half. There ended up being left over rolls that I put back in the bag to finish tomorrow.
I have my own snack cabinet—meaning that everything in it is just my stuff. If I put something in the cabinet, it means I don’t want to share, and my husband isn’t allowed to eat it. He has his own snack cabinet too.
I put my bread in my cabinet, and my MIL came over at 7pm and asked me what there was to eat. She hadn’t eaten dinner. I said I don’t have any food on hand. My husband offered to make her some instant noodles with an egg. She said it’s too much hassle and went rifling through my snack cabinet. All that was inside were the rest of the bread rolls. My husband told her to leave my cabinet alone and go look in his. My MIL closed my cabinet with a lot of complaining, how we’re raised in a barn for being so obsessed about splitting a couple bites of snacks. My husband ended up getting in a fight with her, and she left angry swearing to never come back.
I’ve seen internet commenters say before that taking a bite out of every bread roll is super rude. I just wanted to ask, is it still rude how you eat snacks that are entirely yours that you’re not sharing with anyone? Is there an etiquette to it?”
Someone’s dog gave a scratch to a mailman with its paw, and the mailman is demanding the owner pay for rabies vaccines. A blogger comments, “From what I can tell, there’s quite a sophisticated market around rabies vaccines in China. Anyone who gets nicked by a pet gets a rabies vaccines, they don’t bother to think whether or not they should. Some will even get immunoglobulin shots, and those are super expensive. Doctors and animal control—well, they’re going to tell you to go get a shot too, because although rabies is super rare, if you get it, it’s a 100% death rate. Everyone wants to be better safe than sorry.
But if it was me, I wouldn’t bother getting a vaccine at all. First of all, this dog had proof of regular rabies vaccines. It’s a healthy, safe dog. Secondly, the dog isn’t showing any symptoms of rabies. Third, the scratch barely broke skin. Even if a little bit of rabies got into you, it would take months before the virus reached the brain. In the meantime, you could definitely observe the dog for ten days. If the dog is still alive after ten days, you don’t have to worry about a vaccine.
Just my personal opinion—you don’t have to agree.”
Comments say, “You can choose not to get a vaccine yourself, but you can’t tell other people to not get the vaccine. Like, if my kitty scratches me, I wouldn’t go get a vaccine. I know she’s gotten shots, I know she doesn’t go outside, I know there’s no way for her to pick up rabies from somewhere. But if she scratched someone else, not only would I not explain all of this to them, I’d outright encourage them to go get a vaccine for the peace of mind. It’s one thing to be scientific—it’s another thing to be a polite human being.”
A tiktok video explaining the advantages of not marrying for men.
“I’m 36-years-old, still single, no children, living in a rented apartment a little over ten square metres. I don’t have to worry about car payments or mortgages, nor about bride price. If I’m full, no one in my family is hungry. I don’t have to support anyone but myself. I eat whatever I want without having to consider anyone else’s tastes, and I never run out of snacks. I never get take out, I always cook good food. Maybe it doesn’t look good, but it’s all very healthy for me. My time is super free. I don’t have to fight through rush hour traffic to go to my job. I don’t have to ask for permission if I want to go out for the night. I make all the decisions in my house.
Living by myself, there’s not a lot of housework. I can spend money on whatever I want. I never have to spend a dime on women. Women these days are super lazy anyways. They want men to bring back the bread and bake it for them too. And they’re always angry about something. There’s so much less hassle if I never marry. My emotions are stable and I don’t have to worry about children or spousal conflict. So long as I lower my desires, my life will be happy.
I take internet lessons in the morning to do a bit of self improvement. If I get hungry, I eat a bit of biscuits or left overs. I cooked my favourite chive and egg hand pies for dinner.”
Comments say, “And then tipped a female streamer 500 RMB.”
An author writes, “I follow a pretty good childcare blogger who wrote about a story once. Her friend had had a baby in America. Her parents went over to help her, and whatever the baby used, they would sterilise it three times a day. Her baby grew up super weak, got sick all the time. She took the kid to see the paediatrician, and the doctor said to get a dog.
She got a super active, high-energy dog who ran around the house and the yard all day. The house was a mess, dog hair everywhere, dust all over everything. Her parents were horrified, as though they can see a blanket of germs cover the baby.
But the baby got healthier and stronger every day.
Human immune systems are strengthened in each and every fight. Babies raised in sterile environment are like a lump of meat with no weapons—as soon as they go out in the real world, they’ll be eaten alive.
Maybe it’s because standards of living are going up and people have more free time. I sometimes encounter people with kids while helping my dad mind his shop. I’ll sometimes talk to them about their kid, and I was shocked.
Keep in mind, I live in a very small rural town. Most of our customers come from rural villages with their own standalone house, a yard, and a very safe environment where you know everyone in town.
But in that environment, they still don’t allow their children to play outside. They’ll even turn the second floor of their house into a specialised child zone, with a fence all around it, its own little world.
All the kid’s utensils and bottles are kept in a sterile cupboard. They don’t just have their own plates—they have a specialised set of cutting boards, knives, scissors, spatulas just for making the kid’s food, which are all kept sterile.
And even more goes into making food for a toddler—baby-safe salt, baby-safe soy sauce, liver powder, spinach powder, all kinds of bizarre supplements.
I wonder how middle school teachers feel, raising a whole generation of moms who think there’s a difference between baby-safe salt and sodium chloride.
I don’t know whose fault this is. Is consumer culture just far too good at scamming people? Or is it just that we’ve got too many bored parents with not enough to fill their time?
Either way, all of this is going to become shackles upon the kid. When they’re little, they’re not allowed to eat normal salt. When they’re grown, they’re not allowed to eat junk food. Similarly, they’re not allowed to have friends their mom doesn’t approve of. They’re not allowed to have interests and hobbies that some expert hadn’t said would be useful. What they major in in uni, what work they do once they graduate, even down to what kind of wife or husband they should look for, when they should have kids, how they should raise their kids…
And the next cycle starts.
And the kid who is kept prisoner in his little sterile circle is like the fertiliser that keeps this cycle going.
Comments say, “Reminds me of the story of the grandma who only let her grandson drink distilled water, and he was sick all the time. When she took him to the hospital, they told her to just have him drink well water.”
Sina News also covers the story of the lady complaining that she was assigned to a train car with three other men when she bought an overnight ticket, putting out a poll asking whether or not trains should assign people to cars based on gender.
Comments reply, “Of course they should! There should also be a specialised train car for people with body odour, a train car for people with athlete’s foot, a train car for fatties, a train car for gays, and a train car for trans.”
Another blogger reposts someone’s response to this issue, “People who take photos of you, who steal your clothes or socks, who make harassing comments at you, or even who touch you—they happen quite often. It’s only people who’ve experienced that trauma and fear and helplessness who can understand. Sure, there are police on trains, but how are you going to produce any evidence? If they don’t listen to you, then what? Most of the time, women just have to put up with it.
Some people have said that if they make female-only cars, that’s implying that men are all criminals. Maybe that makes some sense, but objectively speaking, women are far more at risk than men. This is not an unreasonable request.
Making a female-only car is just the same as making a quiet car. It’s not hard from the tech-front. It doesn’t cost that much to implement—not to mention that such costs are something that society should pay. We all want our mothers, wives, and daughters to be safer when they travel.
Soft bed cars close their doors, hard bed cars keep their doors open—each has its own associated risks. But we can get rid of those risks with a very simple system that sorts people by gender, and it’ll drastically raise safety level.
Someone has a need, they voice a suggestion, and improvements are made. This isn’t some kind of discrimination of men—this is protecting society, protecting people’s families. It’s putting a little more safety and a little more choice in people’s lives.”
This blogger responds, “Or, you know, just don’t ride trains.”
A childcare blogger writes, “Husband got in a fight with MIL today over feeding the baby. Before, my MIL always held the baby in her lap while feeding him. I didn’t mind it, whatever works for her works for her. But hubby thought that we had to get the baby used to the high-chair, to start getting him into good habits.
So when MIL went to put the baby on her lap today, hubby told her to put the baby in the high chair.
MIL said he doesn’t like the high chair.
Hubby asked, “Does he not like the high chair or do you not like the high chair?”
MIL asked, “What do you mean. Of course he doesn’t like the high chair.”
Hubby responds, “Okay, let’s say I believe you. Is that a reason why he shouldn’t sit in the high chair? If one day, he says he doesn’t like going to school, are you going to let him quit going to school?”
MIL said, “This isn’t that ridiculous.”
Hubby said, “Don’t try to avoid the topic—if he says he doesn’t like going to school, are you going to make him go anyways?”
MIL asked, “Then what do you want me to do?”
Hubby said, “Make him sit in the chair. You have to listen to us when it comes to establishing the rules of this house. When the nanny left, you promised you’d go alone with whatever we wanted—when have we ever said it was okay to feed him in your lap?”
MIL said, “But OP didn’t say anything about not doing it.”
Hubby: “Just because she didn’t say anything, doesn’t mean she agrees with what you’re doing. She’s just too shy to bring it up.”
MIL turns to look at me, “Really?”
I laugh awkwardly.
And then the baby sat in the high chair.
We ended up having another fight about whether or not to keep the heat on, so I feel like my MIL is in a bad mood today.
But the baby is perfectly happy by the time he’s riding around on the little scooter, and that was only half an hour after lunch.”
A submission to a performing arts blogger, “I had a huge fight with my boyfriend a couple of days ago, and to avoid breaking up, he decided to send me a dick pic this morning. All my anger vanished right away. Yeah, I admit, I’m a perv. Hahahaha, it works every time.”
They attached the picture that was sent, albeit censored. But even with a bunch of cherry emojis floating over the vital parts. I refuse to post the picture here.
Comments question, “Even if you haven’t had better, surely you’ve seen better???”
“Don’t post cursed images.”
Someone posts a picture of their newborn, asking, “He doesn’t have a nose tip—there’s a weird dent in the tip of his nose. Will this grow out when he gets older?”
Comments answer, “Nah, this gene is super strong. I’ve got a classmate who has a nose shaped like this—it passed down to both of her daughters. I saw pictures of her mother and maternal grandma once, and they have this nose too. Every man that they’d married were completely normal, and this gene had survived four generations.”
“If ugly genes aren’t strong, they would’ve been selected out these past thousands of years. Forget four generations—this gene is still around after forty generations.”
“My whole family has puffy eyes, but at least with double lids. But my aunt married a husband who’s got monolids. Now their kid, my cousin, has both puffy eyes and monolids. And a deformed pinky toe and hearing problems just like her dad. And she’s got her mother’s height—she’s in middle school and still only 135cm. These bad genes are fucking powerful.”
The next weibo post is also nose-themed. Someone posts, “Box-shaped nose just like her mother, do you think it’s pretty?”
Comments reply, “This is literally my dream nose.”
“God I am about to die of sleep deprivation. Everyone’s promoting having a second kid, a third kid, breastfeeding, vagina delivery. No one ever thinks about how the mother feels. There’s a whole bunch of rules for sitting the month, but you’re always allowed to stay up all night.
Sure, I think my baby’s cute as fuck, but it can be a real little shit too.
If I hadn’t been brainwashed by all the vaginal delivery promotions, I wouldn’t have chosen vaginal delivery. Ended up having to get induced, being in pain for two days, and then getting cut open anyways. My delivery room was plastered with posters about how good breast milk is. The second day after my surgery, I was assigned a lactation consultant. Breastfeeding hurt so bad the first month that every time the baby got hungry, I would reflexively start shaking.
If you want women to have more kids, at least give them a better environment to do it in, okay? Stop holding their morality hostage already.”
An askreddit question, “People who didn’t sit the month the traditional way, did you end up having any problems afterwards?”
The top reply is, “I didn’t sit the month. I gave birth in the middle of September, vaginal delivery, no episiotomy. The very day I finished giving birth, I was walking to the bathroom on my own, no need for anyone to help. As soon as I was done giving birth, my milk came in. I hired a sitting the month nanny and had my MIL to help, and neither of them believed I had milk already. That it takes longer to come in. I took my pump and pumped out half a bottle, and that’s when they shut up.
The first day, I started taking walks. I’ve heard of women who stayed in bed all month long and then died of a blood clot, so I was scared to lay for too long. If I have a moment free, I’m walking around the room. All the doctors in the hospital praised me, said I was an example to pregnant women.
The three days I was in the hospital, I didn’t have anyone from home bring food in. If I got hungry, I got some take out. My MIL and my nanny are both bad at cooking, so I didn’t depend on them.
I didn’t have a sitting the month meal plan. I didn’t eat five meals a day. I didn’t eat any weird shit like pork kidney soup, or millet porridge every day, or chicken broth with every meal. I did have Carassius auratus soup once—the nanny didn’t add any salt. I flipped out at her and told her to never bring me any food with no salt in it. I eat fruit whenever I want, including cherries and milk straight out of the fridge.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face every day. I took a shower and washed my hair every other day. I prepared my own peri-bottle and single-use underwear and didn’t make anyone wash them for me.
Less than a week after I got home, I went to the movie theatre with my husband, and then ate out afterwards. I posted about it on social media, and my entire friends circle exploded, said I was insane. I asked them what the difference was watching a movie at home or at the theatre. They said that I can’t have wind blowing on me. I asked them what about the wind that blew on me coming out of the hospital? That’s when they all shut up.
Every other day or so, I’d go to the supermarket nearby and buy snacks. When people found out I was still in the month, they asked if I came back from overseas. I said no. They asked if I didn’t have older people in my life who could tell me about sitting the month. I told them that wasn’t the case either. And then they’d look at me like, “I’ll just wait for you to regret that.”
The nanny was entirely useless in my home. She’s less professional than me. All she and my MIL did was watch the baby briefly if I went out, and sleeping with the baby overnight. Honestly, sleep is so important. I was on the verge of a break down after just a week of sleeping with the baby. Thank god my MIL felt bad for me and volunteered to take the baby overnight. All I had to do was pump out my milk beforehand to put in the fridge.
So, in conclusion, I don’t think I’ve ever sat the month. After a month, I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight, with plenty of milk. I breastfed until two years old with no formula. I don’t have any freckles on my face or any stretch marks. I do get back pain sometimes, but only because my baby will only sleep if I’m holding them, so I got a lot of tension in those areas. As soon as I stopped holding the baby to sleep, it never came back again.
I had a little bit of postpartum depression, but I had educated myself beforehand and knew exactly what was up, and got my husband to do CBT with me and recovered pretty quickly. So it has nothing to do with sitting the month—plenty of good rest and exercise is the key to recovering after childbirth.
Right, I was pretty unique even while I was pregnant too. I had very bad morning sickness, until I discovered that I could eat curry. So I ate curry all the time until I made it to the second trimester and the morning sickness went away. I always ate whatever I wanted, including ice cream every day. But I didn’t overeat—just three meals a day. I never snacked extra just because I was pregnant.
I kept up with exercise—walked 10K steps every day. The night before I went into the hospital to give birth, I walked almost 20K steps. When I had a bloody show that evening, I didn’t tell my family. The contractions started around midnight, and I didn’t wake anybody up. Didn’t want to ruin their sleep. I just laid in bed and waited until the contractions got into a pattern. Around 6am, the contractions got to five minutes apart, and that’s when I woke up my husband and MIL and took my hospital bag to the hospital.
I practiced breathing exercises the whole time I was pregnant. Every contraction, I just counted through it. My husband stayed with me throughout, there was a doula to help, I bounced on a yoga ball, chatted a bit, and was done giving birth after 40 minutes of pushing.
I traveled while pregnant too—by plane, by train, even by boat. One time, I went by myself to Wuhan. Only my husband knew. We didn’t tell our parents in case they didn’t approve.
If my husband is free, we went to check ups together. If he was busy, I had no problem going on my own. I could take a test report and climb five flights of stairs no problem. It was actually kind of a bother when my MIL eventually showed up towards the end and insisted on going with me everywhere.
Honestly, maybe I’ve overestimated Zhihu average IQ. The question was whether “you” had any problems afterwards, and I replied that “I” didn’t have any problems. Why would some people think I was suggesting that other people don’t sit the month? Go ahead and sit it. And once you’re done, you can go answer the question of, “People who sat the month the traditional way, what problems did you have because of it?”
And some replies are just laughable to me. People saying that they touched water for a split second and skin peeled off of their hand? What if you accidentally splash some water on yourself while drinking out of a glass? Some people are too scared to even wash themselves, and have their mother or MIL give them a sponge-bath. And people saying they had a toothache after brushing teeth—that’s just inflamed gums because of pregnancy hormones. It has nothing to do with whether or not you brushed your teeth.
And all the people with dietary restrictions? Maybe you just haven’t travels. If you’ve been to more places, you’d find out that there’s plenty of contradictory traditions on what to eat when sitting the month. In Dongbei, it’s millet porridge, jujube sugar, and eggs, with zero salt. In Fujian, it’s a pork kidney every day. In Beijing, it’s Carassius auratus soup every day. Some places use cockatiels for making chicken broth, some places it has to be hens, some places it has to be eggs. Some places do lamb broth every day. Just use your brain a little and you’ll find that eating just one thing, no matter what it is, is bad nutrition. Whichever traditions I use, I can go one state over, and people would think I was insane. The best diet for postpartum women is just eating reasonable portions, with a good balance of nutrition, and plenty of greens and fruits.
For people telling me that westerns have a concept of postpartum recovery too—yeah, I styled my recover exactly after their sciences. The most important aspects is walking around lots, having a balanced diet, and maintaining a good mood.
You’ve got back pain because you lay still all day. You leak pee because your pelvic floor muscles are damaged, and you need to do Kegel exercises. Your tummy won’t recover because your abs are split, and you need to do recovery exercises. Your wrist hurts because you held the baby for too long, you need to put it down and take a rest. If you’re bored, you can read and surf the internet. If you’re tired, you can take a nap.
All I’m saying is that you’re the one who understands your body the best—not your mother, not your MIL. If you know what it is that you feel like doing, then just go do it. You don’t have to restrict yourself in the name of sitting the month. Everyone who’s experienced postpartum depression knows that nothing is more important than maintaining a good mood while sitting the month.”
Comments say, “Sitting the month illnesses is what Chinese doctors refer to as wind, cold, and humidity—don’t dismiss it so out of hand.”
“You can’t exercise after giving birth—you’ll get a prolapsed uterus.”
Wait wait wait, I was completely misunderstanding "sitting the month", that is insanely restrictive and counterproductive (though I do think this woman is an outlier in how easy things were for her to get back on track). Avoiding wind??? Not touching water??? I am going to go look this up, from the prior mentions I was mistakenly assuming that it's just a month where you get full-time childcare to help you out as you recover, not some sort of traditional medicine
Crazy what works in China! I guess commenters still agreed dick pic isn't the usual win