Mexican Things

There are so many things to love about Mexico.

Unfortunately, there are just too many people, both Mexican and non, who seem to relish in what I can only define as B-ing and M-ing. You know what the B stands for, and the M isn't a bad word, but the title just looks better that way.

I think for one of the first times in my albeit short history here, I can honestly say that I am super satisfied with life. Maybe it's because a lot of things have been going my way and a lot of our dreams are coming to fruition. But, maybe, just maybe, it's because my outlook on life is becoming much more positive.

There are still a lot of things that bother me and make me uncomfortable.

For example, it bothers me and makes me uncomfortable to see people rummaging through the garbage to find food that's still good enough to eat and cans and glass that are clean enough to sell. But, I'm happy that makes me uncomfortable, because if it didn't, it would mean that I have accepted poverty and injustice as normal goingson.

It makes me uncomfortable to see families with the nanny in a uniform pushing the stroller and carrying the bags and attending to the children. While I respect that employment as an accepted norm for a certain echalon of society, I won't let myself feel comfortable with seeing people pretend like that incredibly important individual who is working her tail off for minor compensation, is invisible. Not okay.

On the other hand, every day there is something more to love about this place. Things that make me smile and let me know that it might just all work out in the end. So, we're moving, right? I know I haven't told you, we're in the last hurdles to getting ourselves into our own home and I don't want to really share until I have keys in hand. Anyway, so we're moving and that means boxes and newspaper. I went to the newspaper stand. And by newpaper stand, I mean the 3 ft by 10 ft corregated metal box that's at the corner with a tiny old lady inside. I thought, "Why buy today's newspaper, if I'm not going to read it. I'll ask for yesterday's newspaper and maybe I'll get a deal." (Because, the definition of thrifty is why pay 10 pesos, when you can pay 8?) The aforementioned tiny old lady smiled at me and then asked, "Oh, do you want to buy the newspaper by the kilo?" Yes. Yes, I do. Where else could I go and by 3 newspapers for 6 pesos and have it sold to me by its weight.

I love you, Mexico.

Plus, the guy at Starbuck's and one of the police officers at school know me by name. That just tells me that for some people I've become a household name. That just tells me, that I maybe, just maybe, have a home here.

And you know what? Sometimes little things like that are enough.

Mother of the Year

Just about every day I do something that gets me one step closer to the Mother of the Year award. And by one step closer, I really mean one step closer to the end of the line.

Why, you ask? Well, I wouldn't start a post if I weren't ready to delight you with a little diddy on my parenting.

Do you want the gross one or the funny one first?

I'm going with gross. So, I was changing AV's diaper, which, if you read the Frijoles post, then you can imagine, is pretty gross. Ana is in the super awesome stage where she like really really wants to grab the diaper. So, while I was cleaning her up, she did one of those one-year-old quick as a lightening bolt moves and started poking at the contents of her diaper. To which, I responded with the appropriate parental response of "Oh, Ana, that's disgusting. Don't do that. Yuck-Yucks, Fuchi, EEEEEWWWWW." I, then, proceeded to wash her hand. To which, she responded by putting her (now clean) fingers in her mouth and saying "Aaaahh" with great satisfaction.

Nice, AV.

Now, I make all her baby food, right? Which is easy considering it mostly involves boiling beans. But, since that Frijoles post, I decided that the her repetoire needed to broaden. For her own good, and because, let's be honest, I can't afford as many diapers as she'll need on a bean-diet. So, I made her next fave, spinach. My kid's weird. I know. Have you met her parents?

Anyway...

Later, we were in the kitchen and I was washing the dishes. It kind of, well, slipped my mind that the pan had water in it from steaming spinach. (Now cool, for all of you now concerned about her safety and well-being) So, you know when you grab something expecting it to be one weight and then it ends up being full of green spinach water? Well, what happened was that green spinach water went flying. I, being the one in charge of moving said pan with said spinach water, reacted with cat-like reflexes (because cat-like reflexes is the best way to describe me) and missed all of the spillage.

AV? Not so lucky.

Green spinach water came splashing down all over her. Being the Mother of the Year that I am, I, of course, immediately exploded into hysterics at Spinach Water Baby who was also in hysterics, but the bad kind. I did pick her up, comfort her, dry a little spinach water out of her hair and change her clothes....eventually. But, man, I had a good laugh first.

When can I expect my trophy?

Frijoles

My mexi-baby loves beans.


She has never met a bean that she hasn't loved and then devoured. She eats beans for every meal. And I am being completely and totally serious. Whole beans, blended beans, refried beans, canned beans, homemade beans, with salt, without salt. If it's a bean, AV loves it.


She eats beans and eggs for breakfast. Don't bother trying to give her eggs on their own. She knows the difference. She'll have a few bites of oatmeal. She might nibble on some toast or Cheerios. But, when the beans come out she gets real serious about eating.


Lunch, beans and rice. Maybe the occasional spinach puree here and there. She might tolerate some carrots, squash, corn kernals, peas, etc, but only as long as they are mixed in with the beans.


Dinner, more beans. Tonight found us sitting on the kitchen floor because, well, when it's 6:00 and she's wearing only a diaper, her hair is going every which way, she's got fewer clean spots than dirty spots all over her body and has been going from zero to pitching a fit about 5 times in 20 minutes, you just make the executive decision that we don't need bibs or highchairs right now. What we need are beans. Cold beans in a tupperware, bubble wand in one hand, beans in the other. AV decided to share some beans with me, I got a mouthful of bubbly tasting black beans. De-lish. Thanks, darling.


I guess it could be worse. She could be addicted to chicken nuggets or candy or, I don't know, drugs. I suppose there are worse things than a food that is high in protein, fiber, folic acid, iron, and other minerals. I concede that she could probably love a food that was may more expensive or difficult to prepare, but she doesn't. She loves herself some beans. More power to her.