mexico

Journal Entry, 12-13-09

Today is the first day of what I already see will be an insanely splendid vacation. How badly I need to have some quiet time with my family. You don't realize how much you do in a day until you stop.

I love this little town. The potholes and palm trees. This balcony that looks beyond the the cobblestones to the sea, this hammock in our "new home" as Els says. Terracotta tiles and seashells and a few poinsettia shaped candles just to remind us that Christmas is, indeed, around the corner.


I get back in this mode and find it hard to believe I live in a place where, recently, the negative temperatures have made it feel almost impossible to even take the dog on a short spin. My skin was so dry, hair electrified by the current of cold. Our first day and already her curls are tighter than ever, my skin soft and smooth with sand and salt water, the itchy belly a thing of the past. How did this sunny So. Cal girl end up in frigid northern mountains again? How is it that someone who loves culture and the flavors of chili and cilantro end up in such a monochromatic state. I know I love the soft brown hills, the kind community, but when I get back here, that feels a lifetime away.


Which reminds me that we have to continue to travel, even as this family expands. It felt so indulgent a few weeks ago, thinking about this trip. All the money we'll spend, the time off work, choosing tropics and relaxation over cities and our larger family.

But now that we're here, it feels absolutely right. Watching Eliana haul buckets of sand, the way she bravely runs towards the sea then screeches to a halt the second her toes hit the water.


Feeling my big body finally buoyant, able to maneuver in ways that have become painful out of water. No, the pregnant body was made to inhabit water. Perhaps ages ago pregnant women floated for nine months, splashed, then cleaned their babies in that same sea. I'd love that. Nothing but splashing and laughing all day, rolling in the waves, resting our rounding ligaments and shifting centers of gravity.



Monday 12-14-09

The greatest gift of all is having so much time with Elie. She is so perfect. She discovered the true magic of the ocean today. Her body flew down the sandy bank and she ran as if to hurl herself in, but always cautious enough to stop when the water lapped her ankles. We played "catch ball" with wet sand, filled buckets, sang Daddy Jeff in the Deep Blue Sea while trying to pick daddy out on his surf board... Eliana snuggled up in my arms, then lounging in her own chair, slumped with the relaxation of a day in the sun.


She made friends with the posada housekeeper's four year old hija, Nicole. Tried to share her treats, tried to communicate, her English, Nicole's shy espanol.


Another gift of this trip is enjoying this pregnancy a bit. Showing off my belly in my bikini. Happily eating palettas and choco bananas. Napping when I'm sleepy. I'm so content just being here with my little brood. And Jeffy, bless him, is actually beginning to relax, sun rash, bee sting and all. He's under a lot of stress these days -- perhaps more than I realize. I love the way he's taken to surfing, the way he gets a few hours a day to tune in with the sea while Els and I stroll through the little shops, buy treats, play our little games, practice Spanish with our new friends.




Days filled with love and vibrancy. From the moment Eliana wakes up, her little pack and play at our feet, her early morning musings and songs. Then I get busy in our kitchen frying eggs and tortillas, using my new favorite tool the mortar and pestle to mash avocados and chilis, limes and ajo into a perfect paste that will get me through the day. Melting Oaxacan cheese and then pouring salsa verde on the whole mix. Mexican coffee. Licuados of guava and mango and coconut in the blender. All the while Eliana mixes her own special concoctions at my feet, busy in one of her wild, imaginary worlds. It's not even nine o'clock and I'm already in paradise.

After hours outside, Eliana takes a long, Mexican-made siesta while I read in the hammock or snooze beside her. When she wakes, we gather ourselves for another evening out on the town to eat deliciousness, chat with the locals, watch the sunset, laugh and indulge.

There are these moments when it all makes sense. I breathe this cool, salty air and smile because somehow I've managed to find some reason in it all -- to be here now and do what matters most. Be with my people, feel the sun on my face, my baby kick, hear the waves roll and revel in the precious moments of this now.

Journal Entry, 12-20-09

It's our last day here. We've found a perfect beach, vast and ours for a last day of revelry. San Pancho even outshines Sayulita -- I have moments where I feel like I'll never be able to return, like I could be here always. The gentle neighborhood and friendly locals. The dollar fish taco from the fellow down the road or the insane shrimp dinner I had last night, a table filled with different salsas, guacamoles, cebollas so that each bite can be perfect. The palacial home with gorgeous tiles and that tremendous pool, thick azure rimmed drinking glasses.

But beyond food and lodging, it's being with our people here that take this to a new level. As important and lovely as it was to just be the three of us, to be here in this home with our old friends fills each moment with a new sort of permanence. What a gift to have Eliana loved by so many people. She wakes now asking for Colleen, Amy, Matt, "her buddies" and races out of bed to let them read her stories, plays 'bedtime' with Amy and waxes the surfboards with Matt. She lets Meghan paint her toes purple and, much more importantly, give them a trim! This mama has been trying to cut her kids old man toes for months! She indulges in chiles rellenos and beans prepared by Pilar, thanks to John and Carol's generosity. They all play wacky games with her and laugh at her jokes and songs while Jeff and I exchange smiles, both of us so proud, so grateful of the appreciation and involvement.










It's truly been tremendous, absolutely perfect but I have to remember that there are other Christmases, new memories to build and anticipate. Even with our little guy on the way. We'll be loved still when we are four.