End of my parents' visit

I’m very grateful my parents were able to come out to visit us. My kids absolutely love them. Of course David and I do too. On the 2 weekends we did fun stuff, but during the week they were gracious enough to integrate themselves into our lives, however mundane that may have been for them: homework, piano, going for a run in the nearby forest. While the kids were in school one morning, my parents and I went for a hike and then toured a nearby former-monastery.

That weekend we went to canals of Xochimilco (there are 110 miles overall).

  A lot of boats came up beside us to sell food, toys, or live mariachi music. Below, David is buying the kids their favorite snack: corn on a stick with inch-thick mayonnaise and sprinkled with dry cheese.

 Many other nearby boats had mariachis playing. Iris soaked it up, dancing up a storm.

One particularly interesting/spooky part of the tour was the Island of the Dolls. It was just too creepy not to investigate the history. A hermit lived on the island until his death in 2001. He collected the old broken bodies of dolls from the canals and then hung them from branches to keep away evil spirits and appease the spirit of a dead girl he had found. The dolls also helped harvests his gardens at night when they woke up.

 

Then we went to the chocolate museum.

Just like Willy Wonka's factory: an edible wall. A lot of the chocolates looked wet, which grossed me out. Nevertheless, Claire and I partook because as far as I know, ebola hasn't hit Mexico yet. 

It was hard saying goodbye to my parents. It always is. I remember poignantly saying goodbye when they dropped me off at boarding school. And on the plane to the MTC. And practically every other time. This time, the pregnancy hormones amplified emotion, as usual.

Note on pregnancy hormones: After so many pregnancies, I feel empowered because I understand what's going on. The other day I told David something to the effect of, "I love you a lot, but today I will probably hate you and get mad at you for no reason." I can feel it coming on. And he understands too--good man. He responded, "I know. It doesn't matter. I still love you."
Anyway, my parents are awesome and I wish they could visit me every day. Although if they do, my dad will have to sign a contract that he will stop trying to use all of his 7 Spanish vocabulary words on every. single. person he sees in a voice magnified a million decibels. It may have been cute the first few times, but don't tell him I said that.