Pallas called me on New Year's Day to say that they were leaving PV. Their new plan was to move to Singapore again. Yikes! Singapore! It'll be YEARS before we can afford a visit there! She asked if we'd be up for a joint family visit, perhaps meeting in the middle between Zihua and PV. She suggested we meet the next day. Given we didn't even have a town chosen, we decided to make it two days later, Thursday January 3. I was beside myself with unexpected excitement, but I was also beside myself with tons of stuff to suddenly do. Our cleaning lady Denise (of course) had not come in that day, and didn't come in on Wednesday, so it was up to me to do all the laundry, packing, shopping for travel snacks and find a town and hotel.

We agreed upon Manzanillo, because it was only about 5 hours from PV, and about 7 hours from Zihuatanejo. We've done 7 hour drives with Trinity before, several times in fact, so we knew this would be do-able for us. The Quists were coming with Grandpa Carlos and niece Isabelle in addition to the kids, so it seemed only fair to keep their trip down to as few hours as possible. An added benefit to Manzanillo was the opportunity to visit with our friends Bonnie and Hugh, who helped us retrieve our container from shipping storage hell oh-so-many years ago. This would be our first trip back to Manzanillo since early 2002 when we went to visit Bonnie and Hugh.

Mal and Jenny dropped by on Wednesday the 2nd while I was busily preparing for the trip. They were so surprised that we were leaving on the spur of the moment for a little vacation that Mal actually asked if I needed to have my head examined. Andy and I are not known for spontaneity, mainly because we generally have to plan things pretty far in advance if we want to go anywhere.

Our trip up was fairly uneventful. The road to Manzanillo was twisty-turny, much like the Pacific Coast Highway in California, except without all the slow RV's and trucks. We arrived at the lovely pink Hotel Posada Manzanillo in time to go out to dinner with the Quist gang. They had arrived not long before us.

Certain friendships require lots of work - attention and time to keep the ties connected. Other friendships can pick up after several years of not seeing each-other, and feel as if no time at all has passed. That is what it's like hooking up with Bob and Pallas. Of course, we'd prefer to see them much more frequently than once every six years, but it's just amazing that once we're together again, it's all totally familiar, comfortable, and we're all just full of excited conversation and catching up. As if it's only been a few weeks. Since it was six years, and we'd both had children since the last time we saw each-other, there was lots and lots of chatting and catching up to do.

The kids got along immediately. Our first morning there, in spite of Trinity's midnight high-fever and vomiting incidents, all the kids were happily playing together in the hotel pool and having loads of fun. After Trinity's afternoon nap, we celebrated Isabelle's, Pallas' and Grandpa Carlos' birthdays and ate cupcakes that I had made and brought with us. The party included a piñata of course, because we were in Mexico, after all. Then we went out for a yummy dinner at a steak house, and started it all over again the next day.

Had I had more time to plan, I would have realized that Manzanillo was a fair bit cooler than Zihuatanejo, and I might have packed some slightly warmer clothes. As it was, we managed to survive the temperatures and enjoy ourselves tremendously. The entire weekend was full of fun conversation, relaxation, swimming, laughter, beer, friends and family. There was no pressure to do things we didn't want to do, no weddings to attend and no business meetings (which is what our trips are usually filled with). I must say, for our first spontaneous trip, this was a really good one, and I'd like to plan on having a few more.

I think we've reached our quota of cats for the time being. Or I should say, I've reached my quota of male cats. Although our three little boys are cuddly, affectionate, and have lovely personalities, they are boys, and boys will be boys. It used to be that only the alpha male was being a "boy" by marking his territory. All that changed at some point. We think it was when the fearless white Tom cat of unknown origins repeatedly entered our house, ate our cats' food, and took naps on the couch. That riled up all the boys who rightfully lived here, and they all started marking territory.

It's one thing if the territory is in the garden outside, but the living-room couch, the wheels of the stroller and the corner in Trinity's bedroom is quite another. And since it's three boys working the territory, we go through a lot of Nature's Miracle solution in this house. It makes me so irritated that I want to wish bad things on my pets, but then I remember bedtime.

Bedtime is quite a warm and cozy thing with four cats. When I was pregnant with Trinity, I suddenly became a cuddle-magnet for the cats. It must have had something to do with the hormones, but the cats were just all over me, and occasionally they would fight over who got the prime spot, my tummy. I would wake at night, completely pinned down with cats around my legs, hips and on my body. The cats have continued to find me their ideal snooze partner for the 2 1/2 years after Trinity's birth. I've now become more or less accustomed to the acrobatics that I have to perform in order to get out from under cats and out of my bed.

Today I experienced the ultimate compliment, which I'm not sure I'll ever get used to. Hobbes, our resident ginger cat and virtual Corby reincarnation, is my most persistent fan. Sometimes, he doesn't even wait until I'm lying down in bed before he makes a beeline for my body. If I'm too slow at getting settled, he starts to mew loudly. He's always the one who gets my tummy for the first shift of the night, and if something wakes him up later in the night, he comes back for more. This morning, after I did a quick yoga session and was tidying up, Hobbes came up to me. I said hi to him, but he turned around, so I thought he was on his way to some other important destination. Instead of walking away, he backed up against me and started that little tail quiver that means the Nature's Miracle bottle is about to get used up. I yelled when I saw what he was doing, but too late. He actually marked ME. Well, obviously I quickly washed it off, but he marked ME as his territory. So, for the first (and hopefully only) time in my life, I can say that I was both pissed off and pissed on!

On the other hand, the bad kind of adrenaline can ruin your whole day. I discovered this the other morning first-hand. It was one of our usual mornings: Andy was taking Trinity out front for the ritual wave hello to the garbage men while I was busy cleaning up cat pee upstairs. While Andy and Trinity were out front, Pixel, our oldest and largest cat, snuck out from under the fence in the empty lot next door. His plan was to skulk along the wall in front of our house, and sneak into the yard of our other neighbor, Juan, and ultimately make his way back into our "compound" probably by climbing some trees at Juan's and coming over the wall into our backyard. Seeing that Andy and Trinity were in his path threw him off kilter, and instead of his usual route, he ran out into the street in front of the house.

I have often complained to anyone who will listen about how this town thinks of our street as a highway, because it is one of the very few streets in town that doesn't have any speed bumps. That means it's the equivalent of the autobahn as far as the Mexicans are concerned. So Pixel runs out into the traffic, under a moving car, out from under it between the front and back wheels into the oncoming lane, across the street to the other side of the road, and then zipped all the way back through the oncoming cars in both directions and darted under the gate at Juan's house, unscathed. If he were a dog, he surely would have been hit, at least once.

In the meantime, Andy is screaming "STOP" and waving at the passing cars trying to save our idiot pet. I'm not sure what Trinity was doing. I, of course, was having a heart attack. All I heard was Andy screaming. I flew down the stairs to the front of the house, and I don't even remember how I managed it without falling, because I assumed that it was Trinity running around in the rush-hour traffic. By the time I got to the front door, I heard Andy saying "Trinity, stay right there," so I realized she wasn't the reason he was screaming, but by then the adrenaline had kicked in. I swept Trinity up in my arms, and held her probably a bit too tight, as I ran through the front gate to our terrace. My arms were shaking, and I was on the verge of tears. Andy reported back what had happened, and went in search of Pixel.

Pixel showed up again about 10 minutes later. He was visibly shaken after his little ordeal. Andy and I were even more so. It took ages before I stopped shaking, and Andy seemed to be in a similar condition. I was already on antibiotics for an intestinal infection, but that day ended up being the worst day of that particular illness, and I'm sure it was from all of that negative adrenaline surging through my body. Over a week later I'm still heaving huge sighs of relief that Trinity is okay, and also that Pixel is okay. Just thinking about it gets my blood pumping again. In fact, I'd better stop thinking about it right now, or I might not be able to go to sleep tonight!

Basically, what happened is that Trinity had a really bad intestinal infection. She had had diarrhea for several days, but sometimes that happens and it just works itself out. She started eating less and less solid food, so I began to suspect she wasn't feeling well, and decided to take her to the doctor on Monday morning. On Sunday, she started to vomit. After three incidents, we called the doctor and went for a visit. He gave her an injection that was supposed to stop her vomiting within the hour, and gave us prescriptions for antibiotics, pedialite, and an anti-vomit med. Unfortunately, she kept on vomiting. The poor dear would drop off to sleep, and wake up half an hour later and vomit. We had to be on duty right next to her with a bowl and towels the whole time. After a couple of hours, we called Dr. Real again, and he said she needed an IV.

We packed as if we were going on a 2-day trip, mainly because we had no idea how long we'd be at the doctor's office. I even included a couple of Trinity's favorite books, Teddy, my laptop with her favorite movies (Harry Potter), and an icebox with snacks for me and Andy. We got there and saw the brightly painted hospital room, complete with extremely uncomfortable hospital bed (if you weigh more than 30 pounds/13 kilos), colorful teddy-bear covered blinds, ceiling fan, air-conditioning and private bathroom. Except for the bed, it was kind of nicer than some of the hotels we've stayed at here.

Dr. Real was as friendly and efficient as ever.

Andy held her arm, I sang to her, and Dr. Real inserted the IV. Trinity cried and said "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" but she didn't move, and remained really calm. Dr. Real said she was really brave, and one of the easiest kids he'd ever worked with. We were proud. At first Trinity was fascinated with the IV, and spent a fair amount of time looking at it and would have fiddled with it if we hadn't held her other hand back. Then after a while she said "Other hand, no," and pointed to the hand without the IV. We agreed with her that two IVs would not be fun.

We all miraculously slept in until around 9:30 in the morning. I'm not sure how; Andy was on the camping pad and sleeping bag on the floor, and I was curled up next to Trinity on the extremely lumpy mattress. By 11:00 am or so, we gave Trinity a small cup of water. She did this amazing and entertaining puckering thing with her lips, which definitely indicated to us that she was really thirsty, in spite of being so hydrated by the IV that her diapers were literally overflowing. She eagerly drank half a cup of water, and we waited to see what happened. She didn't get sick after waiting for 40 minutes or so. Dr. Real said he would disconnect the IV and we could go home.

We got Trinity home, and aside from her being very wary for the first few days about eating solid food, and her failing to take her regularly scheduled naps, she's pretty much her normal self again. Well, she's her normal self that is being cooped up in the house and not allowed to go play with friends or attend play-school. We have to wait until her defenses are back up so she doesn't catch whatever everybody else has as soon as she sees them. We expect that'll be within another couple of days. In the meantime, Trinity's new favorite phrases are "not feeling very well" and "I sick". She's such a sweetie, and we're so glad she's feeling better!

There are many plus sides to sending her to play-school. Her friend Ginger is enrolled in the same class. Trinity definitely wants to play with other kids. Denis, the babysitter, is now also the housekeeper, so if Trinity is in school, Denis will have some time to clean house, at which it turns out she excels. In fact, Denis is a better housecleaner than babysitter. It's also good to have Trinity out of the house so I can have some quiet time to do some work. In spite of Denis being here baby-sitting Trinity, I was unable to get much work done, because I would either get interrupted by Trin or Denise, or I would walk into whatever drama was happening and get distracted and pulled in.

It's really weird to have Trinity out of the house for 3 hours. The house is suddenly empty. Quiet. Peaceful. Depressing. Obviously, I'm experiencing a number of different emotions.

How is Trinity faring? Last Monday, I attended the whole 3 hours with Trinity. It was more because I wanted to observe the teachers than be with Trinity. When we enrolled Trinity, the two teachers/babysitters in Trinity's class were on the diaper changing train - there's quite a few smaller children in Trin's class, and I thought they didn't appear particularly happy. Generally people go gaga over Trinity, especially here in Mexico where her bright blue eyes and white blond hair are unusual. These ladies didn't crack even a hint of a smile. So I wanted to sit in to make sure Trinity was going to be in a good situation. I think my first experience was just a bad day for the teachers, because the day I sat in the teachers were chipper, smiling, playing with the kids, and all seemed rather well to me.

On her first day, Trinity had her ups and downs.

On Wednesday, she was to be on her own. We discussed it extensively, that I'd walk with her to play-school, she would play with Ginger, I would go home and work, and I'd pick her up at 1:00. After I gave her a kiss goodbye, she launched herself and climbed up my body and clung on like there was no tomorrow. The teacher and I had to peel her legs and arms away from me so I could get out. As I walked away, I heard her screaming and crying, and I saw her shoe fall off, which usually upsets her on the best of days. I can still hear the echos of the cries right now. I walked out of the school, and started crying myself. I had to call Andy on my walk home, because it's embarrassing to be crying while walking around if you don't at least appear to be having a conversation with someone. Then I got home, called Sabrina (Ginger's mom) and cried some more. It was a rough day. I kept wanting to call the school and see how Trinity was doing, but I knew that if she was still crying, it would only make me more upset, and it would be a bad idea for me to go back. Trinity needed to learn to be in school.

I was 8 minutes early to pick her up that afternoon. I walked in to find that Trinity was happy as a clam, had lots of fun, and didn't want to leave. The teachers all said that she cried for less than 10 minutes, and then sat with Ginger while they both ate their peanut butter sandwiches. She cried less than 10 minutes! I cried longer than that! I couldn't believe it! But I was so happy to hear that she had so much fun, and that she liked playing with the other kids. She even let one of the teachers do her hair.

When I dropped her off at play-school on Friday, Trinity ran into her classroom and immediately started playing. This is old hat to her. No problem. It also happened to be Día de La Revolución in Mexico, so there was a party and dancing and she came home with a festive apron filled with sweets. She might be under the impression that she'll always get to have a party and dance and eat treats at school, and that could be why she's so happy to be there, but at least she's happy, and at least I've finally stopped crying!

The Cake Fiasco...

It wasn't really much of a fiasco. The plan was to make a rectangular cake frosted with frosting that looks like Sully's fur, and make a ball cake, and cover it in fondant and decorate it to look like Mike Wyzowski. Mike was to be sitting in the center of the cake. I've been watching this tv show on the Food Network (thanks again for the dishnetwork, mom) called Ace of Cakes, and after seeing some of their creations, I convinced myself I was up to the task. Apparently I wasn't totally convinced, though, because I started having cake nightmares weeks before Trinity's birthday. It really reminded me alot of moot court during law school. My first attempt at fondant was from a recipe in the Joy of Cooking, and sadly, it didn't specify that it was fondant to be used as candy rather than fondant to wrap cakes with, so after several attempts at making it (and making a great batch, just of the wrong stuff) I turned to the internet and discovered recipes for "rolled" fondant. Those recipes were a breeze, the only problem is that fondant is not so easy to work with, especially in a hot humid environment. I hired Denis to watch Trinny for the day on Saturday, turned the a/c on high, and started my day by making multiple batches of buttercream to frost the cakes with. Yummm....there went my diet for the weekend. We didn't have any red food coloring (and couldn't find it at our local stores), so I wasn't able to make the Sully fur turquoise and purple, so I had to do it sort of turquoise and dark blue. The turquoise turned out to be really really green, but oh well. Then it was time to color Mike. The green turned out perfect, and I couldn't believe I managed to blend in the color so smoothly into the fondant. Then I rolled out the fondant.

Beach Babies

The party was at our favorite Sunday morning hangout, Popeye's on Playa Larga. There's a baby pool that the kids could swim in, or stand in if they don't want to swim, and lots of sand and lovely views. The food is good, and we ordered lots of appetizers of quesadillas, camaronillas (shrimp tacos) pescadillas (fish tacos), breaded fish fingers and guacamole. We had, all told, about 22 adults and 14 kids. The best part (for me) was that I could totally enjoy myself, because my work was done. The restaurant cooked the food, brought out the drinks, and cleaned up the plates. After a week of making ice cream, fondant, and cakes, I was ready to chill out and enjoy the party. Trinity was an absolute champ. Normally she's ready for her nap by 1:30 or 2:00, and we ended up staying at the beach until 6:00 with Trin only having a few crying spells that didn't last long. Trinity spent the day playing in the pool with her friends, learning to make sand castles, and asking Daddy for more tattoos. We bought two huge sheets of temporary tattoos, one of spiderman and one of princesses, and they were the hit of the party. Andy was in charge of the tattoo station, and he was busy the whole day. Even most of the adults got tattoos. Trinity ended up with Spiderman on her right arm, a mermaid and a princess on her left arm, an arm band of something, and all the disney princesses posed together on her stomach. Lovely. Luckily they only last a few days.

Trinity is a very interesting mix of Andy and me, and we can see it in everything, from the way she plays with her toy kitchenette set to the way that she eats. Eating and sleeping have been my biggest issues over the last number of months. I thought that Trinity had a problem, but now I'm coming to realize that I just didn't know what I was doing and have gotten us into our current mess. As far as eating goes, Trinity was doing great, until she started feeding herself. Then the only thing she would eat was bread, rice, tortillas and the occasional slice of ham while we were shopping at Comercial Mexicana. (Her favorite breakfast food is toast with bovril on it, which she refers to as "poo." I do correct her whenever she calls it that, but I can't help laughing, not being a fan of marmite or bovril myself.) But now I see where the problem is - it is not that she doesn't want to eat, it's that she can't be bothered to feed herself when there is so much going on. If I cut up pieces of omelet, and shove them in her mouth as she passes me by during breakfast, she eats the entire omelet, asking for more after she's finished each piece. The same goes with slices of beef, chunks of chicken, and the occasional piece of vegetable (she is her father's daughter, after all). The other night she ate almost all of my grilled salmon. But if she had the choice, milk alone would sustain her, and it would be injected or fed to her while she slept, so she didn't have to miss anything important wasting her time consuming fuel. This is almost exactly her father's approach to food, although he's learned to enjoy my cooking over the years, and actually takes time out for meals nowadays. We still let Trinity feed herself, but I'm realizing that she eats better if I help.

As far as sleeping goes, we are almost over the trauma that I created by ignoring all the parenting books I read. When Trinity was little, I just couldn't fathom waking her up after nursing her to sleep so that I could put her in her crib and let her cry and finally fall asleep on her own. All that crying and drama just seemed unnecessary. But when the nursing to sleep approach stopped working last November, I realized I had created a bit a of problem. We started a new routine in December with Andy reading to her, but she still wouldn't go off, so he ended up driving her in the car until she dropped off. That started taking forever after a while, so I took over again in February, after she had been weaned, and after she read a bit with Andy, I would lay down with her on the day bed until she fell asleep. It took a while, but we finally got fed up with all the effort, and gave in to the "cry it out method." The first night didn't go so well. Trinity cried up a storm for the entire 3 minutes I was out of the room each time I left, until the 4th time I was out and she threw up all over her bed. The next two nights didn't involve quite as much tears, drama or vomit, but since then, it's been up and down (with several more vomit incidents). However, last night Andy and I went out to dinner and left the babysitter alone to put her to bed, and Trinity didn't cry at all. And the previous 2 nights I had put her in her crib with Teddy and she said "no cry" and I left, and she fell asleep quietly. Phew!

So in spite of me having no idea how to be a proper parent, Trinity seems to be overcoming the hurdles and learning how to eat and sleep as she's growing up. Thank goodness! I thought for sure I had screwed her up for good, but I suppose children are designed to be more resilient than that.

As Trinity's birthday approaches, I'm having loads of fun organizing her party and getting all the party supplies lined up, but I'm sure if I just gave her a bunch of temporary tattoos and some toast with bovril on it, she'd be happy enough. Maybe I did screw her up a bit after all!

Her changes are happening rapidly in other areas too. One day we were swimming at Hotel Irma with Ginger, Maya and Sabrina. Trinity was doing her usual thing of jumping into the water into my waiting hands. Ginger put on some water wings, flung herself in the water and started swimming about on her own. The next day when Trinity and I were at Comercial Mexicana, she saw a package of water wings, pointed them out, so I bought them. The next time we went swimming, it took all of one or two jumps into the water before she realized that she could be totally independent of me, and could swim around just like Ginger. Now our Sunday family beach trips have moved away from the baby pool and into the grown-up pool so she can jump and swim with more ease.

I guess what it is is that she's paying attention to what's around her, and then tries to copy it. She saw the tail end of an episode of Gray's Anatomy last week (because I was watching it during her nap) and the very next day I walked in on her with the babysitter, Denise, laying on the floor, having her tummy examined by Dr. Trinity and her stethoscope. Upon a second glance, I saw that she was using Bijou's old cat collar, but it was obvious what she was trying to do. (It might be time to get her a toy medical kit.) She's also really absorbing all the educational toys we have around the house. Her favorite thing lately is to try and sing along to the alphabet song, and when daddy writes letters on her chalkboard table, she names the letter and tries to sound out the word. So far she's working on cat, moon, pool and mummy, but when she sees the letter, she knows it and knows the sound it makes. Is that normal? She's only going to be 2 years old in a few weeks...Andy reckons that she'll be actually reading by 2 1/2 at this rate. Well, if that's true, we'll need to get some more books. I guess it's time for an amazon order.

Anyway, I'm happy to join the ranks of parents that are amazed by the pace with which their children learn and grow. It is so fascinating watching her enthusiasm for everything she learns and encounters and it makes life just a bit more exciting for us too.

But alas, with the end of autumn comes winter. The weather has begun to cool down, the mosquitoes left for a damper climate, and everyone has begun to heal after the hardships of the summer. Once again I feel like I can say that I am on top of things. I am by no means caught up: the items on the "To Do" list I wrote last April when my mom came to visit remain unfinished, but at least I now feel optimistic that I might tackle one or two of them in the near future.

Of course, the most important thing to catch up on is the posting of photos. Trinity has been growing like a weed, and I might not be exaggerating when I say I think she's grown 2 inches just over the last few weeks. Therefore it is extremely important to me to get some photos posted on my website, before Trinity enters college. (And as far as I'm concerned, she's so darned smart that'll be real soon!)

There are some photos to check out on www.weheartzihua.com that I took when mom was visiting in October. Trinity, mom and I took a road trip to Patzcuaro, Michoacan, which is a colonial town about 4 hours north of us. We had quite an adventure, and you can read all about it on the website in "Adventures In Mexico: Road Trip to Patzcuaro". It's an edited version, because apparently people who don't know me and/or my family would not be so interested in all the details of baby vomit that were contained in the original version...well, even if you know me, you might not be interested. Anyway, until I get the photos posted on my website, you can get the story on weheartzihua.

Our goals with our new corporation, Grupo de Las Poderosas, will be realized through two different endeavors. The first is a relocation assistance and consultation firm for people wanting to move here for long or short term stays. Obviously we don’t regret moving to Mexico, but we do regret the frustrations, complications and misunderstandings that we encountered along the way. We created Mexico Relocation Services to smooth and expedite the process for others moving here. Beyond the move, we will also be introducing them to the culture, connecting them with Spanish language instructors and hopefully helping them to integrate and be an active part of the local community. For more information about all of the services we will be offering, you can visit our website at www.mexicorelocationservices.com.

Quite possibly our more ambitious endeavor, weheartzihua.com is a community website for like-minded expatriates, tourists, vagabonds and wanderlusts. The website’s target audience is people who want to explore the Zihuatanejo-Ixtapa area without compromising adventure, relaxation, environmental and cultural awareness or budget. Our online community, www.weheartzihua.com, is built for maximum interaction with categorized forums, editorials, travel articles and an area directory featuring both resource information and subjective reviews.

Our corporate name, Grupo de Las Poderosas, loosely translates as “Group of the Super Girls.” We wanted a name that reflected both our power as modern women and our whimsical nature. Both of these qualities will be vital to the success of our work as we take on our big plans of launching a successful business in Mexico.

All three of our websites are now live, and we invite you to visit our sites and post questions, comments and/or wish us luck on the weheartzihua forum. We welcome your feedback and are grateful for your support. We’ll see you in the world of Zihua cyberspace!

Beverley Wolf & Isahrai Azaria
Grupo de Las Poderosas
+1 (206) 407-3433 (US)
+52 (755) 554-3176 (MX)
info@grupodelaspoderosas.com

Anyway, for some reason, the goldfish incident reminded me of a story that Andy once told me. When he was in college in London, he had treated himself to a packet of Mr. Kipplings Chocolate Cupcakes. Apparently they are similar to Hostess Cupcakes, with the layer of chocolate frosting on the top. His favorite way of eating them was to eat the sponge cake first, and save the tops with the frosting for the end. He made his way through the packet of 3 cupcakes, and after eating the sponge, he methodically starting stuffing the 3 chocolatey tops into his mouth, savoring the flavor, and allowing the chocolate to melt in his mouth. Unfortunately he was listening to a comedy radio show at the time, and something extremely funny happened on the program. He started to laugh, and the melted chocolate sort of snorted up into his nose. His roommate, known as "Big Rich" at the time, walked in on Andy just as he started cracking up and a bunch of melted chocolate was shooting out of his nose. Rich simply said all that could be said, which was "that is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" Upon reflection, Andy says that it was probably a nicer thing to experience than to watch.

So, I guess that the goldfish incident is just a hint of what's to come!

PS: I also think you are mistaken about your age - you MUST be at least 10 years younger than you are claiming!

Now onto my most recent downfall. We finally got our satellite television system worked out, and we have the Playhouse Disney channel. Now we don't have to wait until we visit my mom or my brother before we, I mean ummm.... Trinity, can watch the Doodlebops. The Doodlebops have everything - choreographed dancing, singing, playing musical instruments, and even concerts. They are a totally hip rock band for little kids. They are so cool that Dee Dee Doodle has pink go-go boots. You can't go wrong with pink go-go boots. Trinity has even begun to show an actual interest in the show, quite possibly because I always pick her up and dance around with her during the Doodlebop theme song. And even though there are witnesses to me doing this, and actually singing along out loud, that's not what makes me feel like a total dork. What I have done is even worse. Yadira (the house keeper) came in while I was singing along and doing the choreography to "Get On The Bus" while Trinity was quietly watching the tv up close. The dance steps are rather complicated, and involve a lot of arm movements (I call them flailing) and alot of fancy footwork (I managed the hustle-style steps, but tend to trip up on some of the others). Yadira being the sweet girl that she is, just smiled quietly and went on her way. You know I've totally lost her respect after that. I mean, you just can't respect someone who spins around in their living room doing potentially dangerous dance movements while singing at the top of their lungs. The show should have one of those signs that say "Don't Try This at Home".

So I guess I'll reserve my/our Doodlebop watching for days when no one else is around the house. Although, now that I think about it, I'm less concerned about how dorky I appear than I am concerned about how irritated Yadira will be if I rearrange the furniture to give me a little more dance space. I mean, I've got to follow the passion, right?

I thought of those comments when we left Kaiser Hospital in Oakland after Trinity was born. As we walked out with tiny Trinny in her car seat carrier, I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face. I also couldn’t understand why no one around us seemed to react. The gardener continued gardening, the two staff members continued smoking and gossiping in the corner, the other patients continued on their way into the hospital. People noticed us, but didn’t seem to realize that we had HAD A BABY, that I had GIVEN BIRTH and that the world was hugely different from now on.

I felt this way again a few months ago when I went to our grocery store, Commercial Mexicana, to buy Trinny’s medications after her febrile seizure. I hadn’t gotten any sleep at all (although Trinny had) and I was a bit of a mess. I kept looking around and hating everyone who had a smile on his or her face or seemed to be laughing. How could people be so happy when my baby was so sick last night? Couldn’t they see this was a moment for sympathy and quiet?

Today I feel it again, this time on behalf of Norma and her family whose lives have been irreversibly changed by the sudden death of her son Jose. Every time I do something that should be normal – watch TV, do yoga, laugh and play with Trinity – I feel like I’m doing something wrong. No one should be normal and happy when this unexplained loss has just occurred. I can only imagine what Norma and her family are feeling. The only consolation I have is knowing that with time, everyone will adjust to this change too, and things will eventually feel somewhat normal again.

We had the unfortunate “opportunity” a couple of months ago. We were quietly making our way through the bedtime routine with Trinity when my world was briefly turned upside-down. I reflect back and realize that there were a few indicators which, taken together, should have warned me that Trinity wasn’t feeling well. She refused dinner, which isn’t always surprising. She spit up the one spoonful of yogurt I managed to get her to eat, which also was not unusual. She lost her balance a few times in the bathtub, but I figured it was because we had been swimming in a pool the previous day, and perhaps she had some water in her ear. Then she felt really hot when I put her pajamas on, so I tried to give her some Tylenol and she refused the second dropper-full. That’s not particularly unusual in itself, so we decided to wait a few minutes to get the rest of the dose down her. It was only a few moments after that that she started convulsing. She was having a febrile seizure, a seizure as a result of a really high fever that spiked quickly. We now know that this is something that sometimes happens to small children. It doesn’t make us feel any better to know that, and at the time it was happening I thought she was going to die.

I have always thought of myself as someone who could keep their head together in an emergency. Maybe it’s true, and to give myself and Andy some credit, in less than five minutes after the seizure started, Trinity was with a doctor. But as soon as the seizure started, I felt like my brain disconnected from my body. I started first looking for the number for Red Cross to get an ambulance here, and then quickly realized I wasn’t reading the numbers. Then I tried to call the “tourist” doctor, because I figured my Spanish would fail me, and I couldn’t find his number in my Palm (it was actually programmed into my cell phone). That’s when Andy and I decided to just hop in the car and drive to the hospital immediately. Luckily Andy reminded me to put some clothes on (my nursing bra and undies cover more than a bikini, but it still would have been inappropriate). I ran out of the upstairs living room without even closing the door, much less locking it. I grabbed my phone and the Palm, and ran to the car. We were heading to the hospital when we realized that Red Cross was only 3 blocks from our house and we would be passing it on the way to the hospital. I pulled into the driveway at Red Cross and yelled out the window in Spanish, “Help me, my baby cannot breathe!” As it turned out, Trinity was breathing, but Andy was too busy struggling against her convulsions to keep me posted on what he thought was going on.

The Red Cross facilities are frighteningly bare, but they did what needed to be done to reduce Trinity’s fever. They put cool cloths on her head and tummy, and fairly quickly after that the fever started coming down. Andy ran out and purchased some medicines they prescribed, one of which was a fever reducer, and they took effect pretty quickly. Then they said Trinity needed to be in a warm bath. They filled a large paint bucket with water and stuck her in it. Andy carefully poured water on her with a kidney dish while I ran back home to get a towel, a diaper, and some money. In my panic while the doctors were examining Trinity, I had called Rai and told her I needed her. I realized that we really didn’t need her at the Red Cross, so I asked her to meet us at the house. I guess I just needed that calming element of Rai’s friendship to contrast the chaos in my brain. I returned to Red Cross to hear Trinity kicking up a fuss. Apparently she didn’t like the paint-bucket bath, but the fact that she was protesting made me heave a sigh of relief. As the doctors had said all along, she was going to be fine, although I didn’t believe them until I heard her being normal again.

We took Trinity home and gave her another bath, in the bathtub this time. She was playing with the water coming out of the faucet and gave us a big smile and giggle as the water splashed. At that point we all knew that she’d be fine, and we even managed to get her medicine down her. That night she slept, well, like a baby, although Andy and I spent the whole night poking her to make sure she was still breathing.

Rai reported that when she arrived at the house, the upstairs door was open with the a/c running on high. The downstairs door was closed and locked, but the back doors were all open, as were some of the windows. I honestly believe that was the most open the house had ever been with no one home. But as I mentioned, we left in a panic, the only thought on our minds being the health of Trinity. So we may seem a bit uptight with all our security efforts on a normal day, but I assure you, Andy and I have our priorities in the right place. We know the difference between what is valuable and what is priceless.