When I was a little girl lots of things came easily to me and those things that didn’t I just ignored. I couldn’t get how to tie my shoe so my mom and my friends at school did it for me until I was 8. Telling time didn’t come naturally so I just didn’t bother with it until I was like 10. That’s what velcro and digital clocks are for, man.

In my old age I’ve become more determined to learn when things are hard, when I feel like it’s really worth my while. Knitting stuck in spite of being ridiculous at the beginning. I wanted to quit my drawing class after the first day – what with being 7 months pregnant and lonely and all – but I was amazed by what I was able to do by the last lesson. Which brings us to today.

In November of 2007 I bought a sewing machine at D.I. for $30, bound and determined to learn how to sew. I had all these dreams of the adorable stuff I would make. Justin asked if he could design my first project, which he did, and together we went to the fabric store and picked out the fabrics and then together we cut all the pieces and away I went to sewing. 2 weeks later I found out I was pregnant and sewing was put on the back burner. A child, a move cross country, and 18 months later I picked up my project again while Justin was away at a scout camp and I plugged away at it and finally the quilt top was finished, just in time to get pregnant and move yet again. Another kid, another couple of moves, and a new sewing machine later and I was ready to actually quilt the darn thing. And here we are, just shy of 4 years later, and my first sewing project EVER is finally complete.

Whatever you do, don’t look too closely at it lest you see my poor craftsmanship. I’m pretty sure I could pass this off as Elliott’s handiwork with plausible deniability. With that being said, I’m pretty proud of myself for meddling through and finishing even when I wanted to take the sewing machine and smash it Office Space-style. And, amazingly enough, I learned some stuff along the way.

Justin has already asked me if he should start designing my next project. Mostly, though, I’m still dreaming of all the beautiful things I want to make and all the things I have yet to learn.

My sweetest Eleanor,

In one year you have

-tripled in weight

-learned to crawl and climb up, but not down, preferring to cry until we rescue you at the top of the stairs

-learned to feed yourself

-learned to point to everything that you want

-learned to talk: daddy (never dada), mama (usually only said when you are upset), yay!, and hi

-lived in two countries

-traveled through 15 states

You are sweet and cautious, you always watch and observe a situation or new person for awhile before passing judgement. Except when it comes to water – in the bath, the pool, or the sea you want to dive in head first and it both terrifies me and makes me proud.

You love your brother, he’s still the only one who can really make you belly laugh, even though he tries to ride you like a horse as you crawl and tries to wrestle. Of course you have no problem voicing your malcontent when he bear hugs you too hard.

Everyone says you look like a Cabbage Patch Kid and they’re right. You have my dark blue eyes and your own strawberry blonde hair.

You are remarkably tolerant of hair bows, hats, and now earrings. Thank goodness because we love to accessorize you, it’s too adorable.

You love having long conversations.

You remind me of your Grandma Tricia, so so much.

Thank you for coming to our family a year ago, Enny, we wouldn’t be the same without you.

Just in time for Eleanor’s birthday (tomorrow), here’s our press clippings from Elliott’s birthday…

Ah, the beauties of a small pond…

Last Friday was Mexican Independence Day and after learning that there wasn’t going to be a whole lot going on around town (at least not a whole lot that was toddler-friendly) we decided to make an impromptu day trip to Puerto Penasco or Rocky Point to us gringos. We hadn’t heard that many great things about Penasco, so I would say our expectations were pretty low and it definitely exceeded those expectations by quite a bit.

We had to leave at like 5:30 am – Penasco is in Sonora on the Gulf of California, unfortunately the roads between Nogales and Penasco are not well-maintained and are off limits according to our Security Officer since illegal roadblocks have been set up there in the past, so unfortunately the only route is to go up to Tucson and then go southwest. Kind of obnoxious. But when we arrived at about 10 we were greeted by this site

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. The weather was gorgeous, it got up to about 95 degrees with a cool ocean breeze and the water was warm, in fact a little too warm once you got in and got used to it, but it still felt amazing. Obviously the whole family was there…

…even me in all my brassy-haired, makeup-free glory (Yikes!). Even though it was a holiday the beach never got too crowded and the waves were perfect for a couple of toddlers, just strong enough to be fun but not strong enough to give me a heart attack that my babies were going to be washed out to sea. While not the nicest beach I’ve ever been to I would say it was as nice if not nicer and cleaner than most of the Southern California beaches I’ve been to.

Elliott had a blast making sand castles and going in the water. Even though he got owned in the face a few times by the waves he would just sputter a little bit and want to go even further out, which really surprised me because he’s always been so timid in the water. Eleanor, on the other hand, has always been fearless about water and would sit there laughing as each wave hit her and then would bat my steadying hands away. As we sat relaxing while Elliott played in the sand vendor after vendor came up to us with hats, sunglasses, even Mexican ceramics. The fact that Justin spoke Spanish was always a surprise to them and a few of them wanted to chat – that’s my husband, always making friends wherever we go.

Our only complaint was the tide, it started so far out and then kept coming in and in and in. Every time we thought we had planted our umbrella and chairs for good we would find ourselves flooded after an hour. But that’s a small complaint, compared with how pleasant everything else was. Heck, it’s not everywhere that you see a mariachi band on the beach.

After spending all morning and early afternoon on the beach we went and explored the town and it was ok, about what you’d expect from a Mexican beach party town. Lots of bars  and some interesting looking restaurants. All in all we liked it and we’ll definitely be back, although with it being a 4 1/2 hour drive away we’ll probably make a weekend of it next time.

This weekend we also did something for Eleanor’s (rapidly approaching) birthday

Did you spot it? If not, here’s a closer look

Yup, we pierced Eleanor’s ears. Judge us all you want, but I think it’s adorable. She screamed for all of 30 seconds, more from Daddy holding her head still than the actual piercing, and calmed down the minute she saw herself in the mirror. Vanity, thy name is baby.

Justin is the gardener around here. The minute he saw the pictures of our house, way back when he was in Spanish training a year ago he started planning. After we’d moved in and settled in we made a trip to Home Depot on the American side and got lots and lots of tomato plants, a yellow squash, a zucchini plant, some strawberry plants, and some watermelon seeds. Then, for good measure he ordered  seeds for two less common pepper plants from the agriculture department of the University of New Mexico – chile piquin and chiltepino.

So far the only things that have done well are the watermelon, the chiles, and the squashes. We’ve eaten so much zucchini so far this year it’s silly. Justin has told me that he doesn’t want to eat zucchini again maybe ever and that 16 inch bad boy above (12 inches in girth) is currently being turned into ridiculous amounts of zucchini bread that we are going to gift. Don’t even start with me on telling me there are more ways to eat zucchini than in bread or sautéed. We’re zucchini-d out and that’s a fact. Our yellow squash turned out to be more like gourds than regular old summer squash so that was a wash. The watermelons are coming along nicely, although we’ve realized that we have no idea how to tell when a watermelon is ready. I guess when it’s big? But how big are these going to get?? Time will tell. As for the peppers, they were planted later in the game so we have yet to get fruit, but the plants themselves are tall and green.

As for the tomatoes, which, as an honorary Italian, were what I was the most excited for – well, they’ve been a pretty big disappointment. I think we planted too late and they just haven’t gotten enough water to give us what we were hoping for. It was just too darn hot for them. I pulled off our largest one to date and it was smaller than a clementine. They were about goners when monsoon season rolled in and saved their lives. We’re babying them along until Fall, hopefully with the cooler temperatures they’ll be happier, but who knows. Same goes for the strawberries, we’ve gotten a couple off, but they’ve been tiny tiny.

I don’t really post pictures of our garden for security reasons – while I know the razor wire around our pad is pretty big giveaway of who we work for, our garden is pretty unique around these parts and would definitely tell everyone on the world wide web where we live. But hopefully the picture above will suffice – I asked Elliott to play the zucchini like a guitar and he gave me a bass.

Ok, now that the computer is reformatted, my dad has left, and I now own a Scooba, I finally have the time and energy to write about this.

The party was a week and a half ago and it was great. Elliott had a blast from beginning to end, the food was good, I think all the other kids and adults had fun, all in all a rousing success. On to the pictures!

Justin ended up doing most of the party planning aided by the Consul’s secretary, Gabi, who was so great to do all that she did. Justin wanted an authentic Mexican birthday party and I think they succeeded. Gabi arranged the piñata, the taco stand (which, if you can believe it I forgot to take a picture of…you can’t hate me as much as I hate myself for that, trust), the coca-cola delivery, and did the invites. Pretty much, she’s an angel. That left me in charge of cleaning and planning activities and filling the piñata and goody bags.  The day before the party coca-cola dropped off soda along with a cooler and 20 tables and a bunch of chairs that they let us borrow. As a result our garage turned into a make-shift taqueria for the day.

Yes, folks, that’s our garage…

Anyway, before the party got started Gabi brought the piñata. I had bought about 10 pounds of candy plus fruit snacks plus super balls and I was worried I had bought too much. Then we saw the piñata.

Yeah, what I had bought only filled it a fourth of the way. I was worried, until we tried to hang it at which point it fell to the delight of all the kids who looked like Christmas had come early. Luckily it didn’t break (foreshadowing…), and my dad and Justin pulled a bunch of candy out which we figured we’d just throw on the ground at the appropriate time. Problem solved.

The taco guys showed up about a half hour before the party was to start and starting setting up in our front patio area since there’s a door linking that area with the garage. They had barely gotten the grill going when, in typical Sonoran desert fashion it started to pour.

Ah, monsoons. Change of plans, the taqueria was moved into the garage. Again, I’m kicking myself for not getting a picture, but what they brought was all the meat (carne asada and adobada or, in gringo, steak and marinated pork), all the tortillas, cheese, salsas, cucumbers, pickled onions…everything you would get at your standard taqueria, and it was all you could eat. And at the end we got to keep everything that wasn’t eaten. Which was a lot.

Anyway, the guests started to arrive and the rain started to die down. As each kid came we pointed them to the playroom and let them have at. I don’t think I’ve ever posted a picture of the playroom…well, here’s a picture of it today. I didn’t even clean before I took it because I’m keeping it real. If you look back at the first picture you can see that the playroom is directly off the garage, making it the perfect party extension, if you will.

Justin told me to plan for 50 kids, and about 20 came, which was fine. I had planned a couple of activities just in case – pin the lightning on McQueen, a temporary tattoo station – but the kids really only wanted to play in the playroom while the adults sat out in the garage and ate and socialized, which was perfect. Next time I won’t bother planning anything.

You can kind of see the taco set up in the furthest left corner of that top picture…oh well. Anyway, Elliott was in heaven having so many kids to play with. Usually he’s the only one who gets to mess up the playroom, and since he’s an expert he got to show them all how it was done.

After about an hour of playing it was piñata time. Elliott, as the birthday boy, was the first up.

After being told all day not to ride the piñata and not to rip the tissue paper off of it, Elliott was pretty tepid when it came to destroying that bad boy. So the Mexican kids had to show him how it was done.

Also, did you know there’s a piñata song? I didn’t know there was a song…

I can’t believe I managed to record Elliott’s poor cousin, Jared, being cracked in the head by the stick, but was aware enough to prevent Elliott from a similar fate. Hopefully those two gringos will be more careful next year.

In the end, no kid could fell the mighty piñata so some adults were called on, who beat it so savagely that the stick broke, but still the beast would not fall. So Justin found a weak spot and ripped it apart with his bare hands while my dad threw the rest of the candy from a bag. Chaos ensued.

Later one of Justin’s co-workers told him that it’s pretty typical in Mexico to break 3 or 4 sticks before the piñata breaks. Once everyone had filled their bags, it was cake time. We ordered our cake from a bakery down the street that is considered to be the best in town. We got the biggest one they had, to serve 100 people, half vanilla and half chocolate, and it was huge.

We sang happy birthday, half in English and half in Spanish to our now three-year-old (what? where has the time gone??)

and he blew out the candles

At which point I discovered that the candles I bought at the Walmart down the road (in Mexico), which were the only birthday candles they had, were trick candles. Whoops, such a mean Mom.

All the kids were crazy for the cake, but not Elliott. Instead he became obsessed with his bag of piñata candy and refused to let it out of his sight or possession for even a second. Even while riding his tricycle.

After the cake was eaten (well, 3/4ths of it) the kids went back to playing and the adults socialized for a little longer until little by little the party wound down and we were left with the herculean task of opening the mountain of presents he got. He loved it and still asks me (a week and a half later) if he gets to open presents today. Justin’s brother Brandon and his wife Julie then helped us and my Dad clean up a bit before heading back to Tucson and we all collapsed into bed around 10 that night. And were still exhausted the next day. But, it was a great time and I would totally do it again.

So I went to camp, got back on a Friday and left for California a week from said-Friday and stayed there until yesterday. And during the week between my trips we had the in-laws down to visit. Needless to say, it was a busy 3 weeks.

Camp was a good experience, the girls had fun, I worked hard and learned a lot. When my in-laws showed up Friday night after I got back and Eleanor didn’t recognize me and wanted her Grandma instead of me I wanted to scream “IT WASN’T WORTH IT.” But, of course, she fell back in love with me the very next day. Phew.

Having the in-laws here was so fun and Nogales didn’t scare them enough to prevent them from coming back (or so they said…). We filled them with enough tacos to make it worth their while.

California was a dream – my father just had his pool redone, bought a smoker, unpacked the grill, and the weather cooperated so well. We spent a week outside cooking and swimming, so relaxing. And somewhere in there I turned 29.

Pictures to come.

How I woke up yesterday morning:

(Elliott climbing on our bed and onto my stomach)

Elliott: You’re awake!

Me: I AM awake!

Elliott: Como estas?

Me: Bien, y tu?

Elliott: (thinks for a second) Bien! Gracias!

What a kid…

I’m currently packing up the babes for a week at Grandma and Grandpa’s. I’m trying hard to do so with the least amount of melodrama, but, oh, how I will miss these little faces. They might as well rename a week to FOREVER.

I’m trading in my infant and toddler for teenagers – I was asked to be the Young Women Camp Director for our ward (church congregation) and I’m sure it’ll make me grateful that I have a while until I have to corral teens full-time. Although, it’s a good group of girls, so I’m sure we’ll have fun.

What am I going to miss in a week? Probably Enny’s first crawl, maybe a couple of new teeth. Elliott is sure to learn about a million new words and become even more precocious. It kills me a little bit. But, besides our own, I know they’re going to be in the best hands possible and they probably won’t miss me at all.

In the meantime here’s a couple of pictures. Elliott’s favorite thing last week was to give Eleanor a toy and then take it away because she would give the most enraged protesting howl I’ve ever heard and then Otter would laugh and laugh maniacally. Ah, siblings.

***Update: (10 minutes later) I just went to go check on Elliott during his “nap”. He was not asleep and had in fact woken up his sister, and thrown a roll’s worth of toilet paper in the toilet and then peed on it. So after busting his butt back to bed, soothing Eleanor, and cleaning up disgusting pee-soaked tp out of the toilet, I say keep them for a month. A YEAR! Oof. And such is motherhood.

A post in Nogales is paradise for someone who loves sports. I know that seems odd, but I promise, it’s the truth. Most of you know Justin’s obsession with the local professional basketball team – the Fuerza Guinda de Nogales. They play in the Mexican Pacific League and the games are the most crazy fun thing ever. Justin went regularly and got seats behind the bench every time so by the end of the season he was friendly with all the players and the coach. The fans are incredible, they get so into the game, and it makes for a really really fun time.

If you like baseball Nogales also has a semi-pro baseball team as does Tucson, an hour away – the Tucson Padres. We went to a game last night and got seats right behind home plate. The pitcher was terrible and the Padres lost 10-0, but it was still a really fun outing, cheaper than a movie. Elliott wandered the stands, dancing, and yelling “Hit a home run!” and “the Red Sox are stinky!” (We taught him well at the last baseball game he went to, Angels v. Sox…). At the end of the game the opposing team’s bat boy waved him over and gave him a bat, which he proudly carried back to the car while everyone oohed and aahed about what a lucky boy he was. Not to mention how many teams have their spring training down in that neck of the woods. We missed it this year, but next year we’re definitely going to go catch some Angels games.

Football fans don’t get left out, either. Justin’s colleagues went to the College Football title game this last year before we made our way out and had a blast. The Cardinals play in Phoenix, of course, which is about 3 hours away and you can find all the pro teams up there as well – the Suns and the D-bags…I mean, backs! Whoops! How did that happen?

Plus golf, bicycling, hiking. I mean, you name the outdoor activity and you probably can do it around here. Not to mention the beaches at San Carlos, 3 hours to the south that are supposed to be incredible. So while we sometimes get a little bit of cabin fever not being to get out of the house in Nogales proper, there really is so much to do.

I live my life in Mexico, for the most part, in a bubble. This bubble encloses my entire house and travels with me when I’m in my car. I venture outside of the bubble on the rare occasion that I do some grocery shopping at the local Ley or Soriana and I leave the bubble more often when we go out to eat (wonderful, dreamy meals). Even when I leave the bubble, though, 99% of the time I do so with Justin and I leave him to handle everything with his handy dandy Spanish.

I’ve had two occasions recently where my car bubble was burst, once by my first encounter with a Mexican policeman and the second with a Mexican Customs Official as I returned with my groceries. The time with the cop felt skeezy and I drove away frustrated by the seeming corruption. The second time I drove away angry and even though I was 100% in the right I look back on the encounter wishing I had been more diplomatic. Both times, though, have reminded me that besides the “danger” here the thing that keeps me in my bubble is my inability to communicate. And I think I’m a little tired of the bubble.

So while I’ve already declared this the Summer of Sewing (I’m finally going to learn and it’s finally going to stick, I’ve decided), I think I also need to declare it the Summer of Spanish.