a typical Mexican Saturday

A typical Mexican Saturday: A trip to the farm, a little soccer, an attempted kidnapping, then churros.

Last week the kids went to Tio Pepe's camp where every day they got to ride horses, hold bunnies and ducks, muck the stables, feed the chickens and collect their eggs, learn to plant, do science experiments, and most importantly, get out of the house. Yesterday was their presentation.

Iris the Patito:

 Claire the Conjejito starred in an anti-littering skit:

Elijah boogied down as a potro:

Then we hung out at the granga:

 

That evening, we ate spectacular food at Café Tacuba, housed in a mansion that’s 400 years old in downtown DF. When we headed out, the streets were very crowded. I am used to getting attention as we are visible minorities, so when a friendly woman who was walking with a stern man came up to me and started a conversation, I thought no ill. The kids and I were ahead of David and the friends we were hanging out with. So they had a better view of what was going on. The woman had her hand around Claire’s neck in what I lie to call the “doggie collar” as she engaged me in conversation. She asked if the kids spoke Spanish. I said they understood, but the girls (whose hands I was tightly holding onto) only spoke when they wanted too. Elijah ran up to her and told her he spoke Spanish splendidly. She greeted him, took his hand, and started walking ahead of us. Our friend quickly ran to them, grabbed E’s hand back, and the woman disappeared. Note to the grandparents: that may not have been a kidnapping attempt. Note to me: That may have been a kidnapping attempt. Our friends (Vanessa and Joel) were convinced it was an attempt since it's not uncommon in that part of town with that amount of people.

The crazy thing is that we had had the kidnapping talk with the kids that very day and warned them about people forcefully grabbing them. We never thought to mention people who slyly gain their trust. They got that talk later. But it’s such a hard balance: scaring the guts out of your kids so they look at everyone as potential torture artists while at the same time helping them understand that most of the people in the world are good and that we are all children of God.

We asked Vanessa to tell us about horrid kidnapping episodes her clients had suffered over churros and hot chocolate.

soccer = spiritual

I feel like at least half of my blog posts begin with a “so much to catch up on” statement. Today is no different. In order of occurrence:
D’s new job
A broken toe (me)
A quick trip to el DF to apartment hunt and school shop
Our vacant house in Scottsdale was broken into by a mob of teenagers. The closing on the home was the week after. The subsequent stages of betrayal, anger, and prosecution.
2 family reunions
An international move: Saying goodbye
Unpacking our new home: Saying hello
3 stitches (E)
Camp for the kids at La Granja next week.
And, of course, the adventures of living in Mexico.

Alas, I will not be able to fill in the spaces today. I was called to serve in the Young Women on Sunday and we have a youth BBQ starting at my pace in an hour. The president is out of the country for a month and yesterday the other councilor was put on bed-rest indefinitely. Under the circumstances, I think soccer is an appropriately uplifting activity.

In other news, David just came home from Walmart with prickly pear cactus leaves, pumpkin flowers, and jalapeños = I'll be learning to cook some good food this week. Or at least, food that would taste good in another kitchen.

A house isn't really a home until you have internet

It took a few weeks to get the internet down here. Here are a few of the things I have written since our arrival:

I told people the reality of moving back to Mexico wouldn’t hit me until it hit my intestines. HELLO MEXICO!!! Although we all miss USA, my intestines are the only ones voicing their extreme disgruntle at the move. It’s been 2.5 weeks and I was slightly panicked at first, thinking I’d be home-bound due to my fear of driving and since we no longer live in a walking-friendly area—on the north there is a major highway and on the south, a busy street. A normal day gets started around 9am. I give the kids their checklists with cleaning and homework assignments. They usually doddle for most of the morning, playing Legos and taking long baths. Then they have lunch while I read them a book; we have finished “Heidi” and a few other books. Then I try to light a little fire under their bums because E knows he won’t be able to go out to play soccer with the kids returning from school (school gets out this week) unless his checklist is completed. We can see the field from our 9th floor apartment. I can also yell at E if he needs to come in or, like the other day, is “play fighting.” The girls finish up their chores and then we have a tea party or go down and ride scooters or go to the playground. Then at night, possibly a trip to the gym, a movie at home, or dinner and more reading.

Written a few weeks ago:
The kids and I arrived here exactly 2 months after David had left Scottsdale to move down here. The day was also significant bc it was our 11th anniversary. We celebrated with David’s favorite activity: going to a church dinner (David doesn’t go near food at church functions). We had a good time and met great people. Church the next day was a spiritual feast. I will just comment on a few of the things I was thinking about. As we sang the opening hymn, I clearly envisioned the week I hit the halfway mark of my mission in Chile. I was in the chapel of a ward I had worked very hard in and grown to love and sitting next to a companion who was my favorite person in the world and I started bawling uncontrollably, thinking about how I only had 9 months left and I couldn’t possibly go home in 9 months because the gospel wasn’t as true in English.
Another insight was from a story our bishop told about a chicken who was best friends with a pig. One day the chicken asked the pig to open a restaurant with him. He said the name would be Eggs and Bacon. One partner would be a lot more committed to the business than the other. How committed am I to what I believe?

Capturing Arizona #3

After Colorado, we stopped at a quarry across from Arches and had a grand old time climbing up it. Once again, I thought of a spiritual parallel. Climbing it was arduous bc for every 2 feet up, I'd slip down 1 foot. I feel like that happens in the world a lot--there are advances, but without a solid foundation, advancing becomes slippery. Stepped on a solid rock was refreshing because real progress was made. At the top of the quarry, the view was stunning. There were beautiful flowers and we looked across at the towering arches.

On the road trip, Iris got tired of waiting for us to stop for bathroom breaks. When we did finally stop, she would hesitate to get out, saying she didn't need to pee anymore. Then she would claim that she had spilled her milk on her lap and that's why her seat was so wet. It wasn't milk. Iris' car seat became her personal porta-potty.

Visiting 4 states at once.

Four Corners

Monument Valley

Can you spot them?

The sunset from our balcony

The sunrise from our balcony

Antelope Canyon

The canyon is only about a quarter of a mile long, but it is breathtakingly beautiful.

The tour guide showed us some pretty good angles.

This shot looks like you are looking up at Abe Lincoln's chin.

The heart

The wave

We then went on a boat tour of Lake Powell and saw the Glen Canyon Dam

Then played on the shore of Lake Powell

All boys pretend sticks are swords and throw dirt at eachother

And torture eachother

And torture girls

And torture their mothers

Capturing Arizona #2

When Elijah was a little baby, I had him on a regimented schedule. He was asleep between 6-6:30pm. Then I had the WHOLE night to myself. Of course I looked down my nose at all parents whose children went to bed after 7. As per always, I become what I mock and then some. Now my kids are in bed at 8, if I’m really lucky. Then they take turns boiling my temper. Iris sneaks downstairs to make sure I’m not having fun without her and Elijah’s ear aches and Claire is having bad dreams even though I try to explain that you can’t have bad dreams unless you first fall asleep. And now it’s almost 10, I’ve been awake for over 17 hours, and I’ve already dozed off a few times while trying to forget that I have to work and write a talk and orchestrate a house sale and an international move and instead have some “me time” (aka. watching trashy news on CNN because I need to know about the bearded lady who ticked off Russia and other such nonsense). And now my sense of duty compels me to update the blog, but the bearded woman fried my last neuron and the cookies in the pantry won’t shut up. In other words, I’m going to take a stab at this, but don’t get your hopes up because my head is about to hit the keyboard.

Arches

One thing we did on this trip was give the kids our old camera to use.

Behind us in this picture is Landscape Arch. In 1991, Landscape arch had 180 tons of rock fall while tourists were under it. Fortunately they heard "thunderous sounds" and got out of the way. I thought of a spiritual parallel while we are there, but can't quite remember the specifics now. The arches were formed after the area had a series of floods and then receded water. The salt from the water stayed and sand accumulated on top. The salt wore away gradually and now the petrified sand is slowly wearing away too.

The kids loved playing in the sand.

great climbing tree

Delicate Arch. This hike had a lot of uphill. We all got tired in the way up. Even iris said she couldn't walk anymore which is ironic since she rode on my back the whole way (David claimed an injury).

We spent the night with David's aunt and uncle in Colorado. The kids loved playing with their cousins. Before we got there, Iris kept asking which kid would be her age. The problem with Iris is that she will keep asking the same question until she gets the answer she wants. To preserve sanity, we had to tell her that there was a girl her age there named Jessica. She was not happy when Jessica didn't make an appearance. The good news is that Claire is starting to warm up to dogs. She said that Jesus told her  to pet their dog (the same dog we tried to tell Iris was her friend Jessica).

Elijah had some tall tales on this trip too. He asked us if we had seen him, "flip in the air one, no five, no ten times and then land by his shoes. That was awesome!"

Capturing Arizona #1

Our first stop was the Wigwam Motel on the Historic Route 66. It is very much like Cozy Cone Motel in Radiator Springs (Disney's Cars movie). Funny, b/c these aren't wigwams, they are Teepees, but the man didn't like that word, hence the misnomer.

Iris claimed she made these Teepees with Grandma Lillywhite who had recently been in a brawl with a dinosaur. Iris often comes up with fanciful stories. For a while she was fixated on Satan and said she was going to turn him into a good guy. She also went through a phase where she talked about her grandchildren. She’s a woman of all ages and begins many of her sentences with, “When I was a kid…” Anyway, throughout this trip, Iris treated most of the sites as old news since she had already either visited them or created them with Grandma Iris Lillywhite.

The Petrified Forest  

Elijah and Clair had a great time discovering, learning, and looking at all the colors.

Iris threw a rock in the air and commanded it to fly.

The Painted Desert

We bought this fry bread on the side of the road. It was very good.

But after eating fry bread and then more fry bread with a side of fry bread, it got a little too greasy even for me.

A note on life post-vacation:

Elijah's bike was stolen out of our garage yesterday. Robbers=not so smart. Why didn't they go for the bike right next to it that was worth thousands of dollars more. I might have even offered it to them since David road-biking in MEX scares me. And hello! I'm moving to Mexico; isn't that supposed to be where the danger is? Either way, I feel violated. 

The start of the end of our Arizona travels

Before I get started documenting travels, I need to write a few words to my future self about having a house on the market. Don’t do it. Just don’t. Getting quotes from several people, talking on the phone, making decisions=all things you’re not good at. And I assure you, the list can go on. You dump a ton of money into it to fix it up for someone else, all the while kicking yourself, as you ask why you never did this for yourself and agonizing whether a nebulous buyer will enjoy your choices. And this monstrous project becomes the spoiled baby of the family who always screams and wears you down so much that the other children must endure the wrath of my nerves and they are fed Ritz crackers for dinner 2 nights in a row (yes they were) and you arrive to social occasions with 1 leg shaved and the other hairier than most canines’ b/c when do you really have time to think about how many and which legs you’ve shaved? At times, the smell of Febreeze can have a calming effect, but then you find yourself violently sniffing it off your wrist in Wal-mart—no, that doesn’t look suspiciously evil—not at all.
So the aim of our travels was twofold: 1) to get the heck away from the insanity (at least for me), and 2) to say goodbye to AZ with a bang. As I was packing for the trip, I snuck out a few times to look at the blood moon. As you can see from this skilled photo, I actually saw lunar eclipses for all 5 of Earth's moons. Either that, or 4 of them were UFOs. At 2am, it really could have gone either way.

And that is the very start of the end of our travels in AZ, at least during this chapter of our lives. More to come...