Our dear friends Bob and Pallas Quist, and their three children Freya, Carlos and Leo, had been living in Costa Rica until last summer when they moved to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. We last saw them, B.L. (before Leo) and B.T. (before Trinity) when they were driving down to C.R. to set up their new home and business. That was apparently 6 years ago already. We were pretty excited when we heard they'd be so close to us now, although over the last 6 years we had always intended to visit them in Costa Rica. I'm sorry we won't be taking that trip, at least not to visit the Quists in C.R., but then I got a bit excited about visiting PV. That's basically like civilization compared to the town of Zihuatantejo. We wrote each-other off and on via e-mail over the 6 months after they moved to PV, but never managed to set a time to hook up.

Pallas called me on New Year's Day to say that they were leaving PV. Their new plan was to move to Singapore again. Yikes! Singapore! It'll be YEARS before we can afford a visit there! She asked if we'd be up for a joint family visit, perhaps meeting in the middle between Zihua and PV. She suggested we meet the next day. Given we didn't even have a town chosen, we decided to make it two days later, Thursday January 3. I was beside myself with unexpected excitement, but I was also beside myself with tons of stuff to suddenly do. Our cleaning lady Denise (of course) had not come in that day, and didn't come in on Wednesday, so it was up to me to do all the laundry, packing, shopping for travel snacks and find a town and hotel.

We agreed upon Manzanillo, because it was only about 5 hours from PV, and about 7 hours from Zihuatanejo. We've done 7 hour drives with Trinity before, several times in fact, so we knew this would be do-able for us. The Quists were coming with Grandpa Carlos and niece Isabelle in addition to the kids, so it seemed only fair to keep their trip down to as few hours as possible. An added benefit to Manzanillo was the opportunity to visit with our friends Bonnie and Hugh, who helped us retrieve our container from shipping storage hell oh-so-many years ago. This would be our first trip back to Manzanillo since early 2002 when we went to visit Bonnie and Hugh.

Mal and Jenny dropped by on Wednesday the 2nd while I was busily preparing for the trip. They were so surprised that we were leaving on the spur of the moment for a little vacation that Mal actually asked if I needed to have my head examined. Andy and I are not known for spontaneity, mainly because we generally have to plan things pretty far in advance if we want to go anywhere.

Our trip up was fairly uneventful. The road to Manzanillo was twisty-turny, much like the Pacific Coast Highway in California, except without all the slow RV's and trucks. We arrived at the lovely pink Hotel Posada Manzanillo in time to go out to dinner with the Quist gang. They had arrived not long before us.

Certain friendships require lots of work - attention and time to keep the ties connected. Other friendships can pick up after several years of not seeing each-other, and feel as if no time at all has passed. That is what it's like hooking up with Bob and Pallas. Of course, we'd prefer to see them much more frequently than once every six years, but it's just amazing that once we're together again, it's all totally familiar, comfortable, and we're all just full of excited conversation and catching up. As if it's only been a few weeks. Since it was six years, and we'd both had children since the last time we saw each-other, there was lots and lots of chatting and catching up to do.

The kids got along immediately. Our first morning there, in spite of Trinity's midnight high-fever and vomiting incidents, all the kids were happily playing together in the hotel pool and having loads of fun. After Trinity's afternoon nap, we celebrated Isabelle's, Pallas' and Grandpa Carlos' birthdays and ate cupcakes that I had made and brought with us. The party included a piñata of course, because we were in Mexico, after all. Then we went out for a yummy dinner at a steak house, and started it all over again the next day.

Had I had more time to plan, I would have realized that Manzanillo was a fair bit cooler than Zihuatanejo, and I might have packed some slightly warmer clothes. As it was, we managed to survive the temperatures and enjoy ourselves tremendously. The entire weekend was full of fun conversation, relaxation, swimming, laughter, beer, friends and family. There was no pressure to do things we didn't want to do, no weddings to attend and no business meetings (which is what our trips are usually filled with). I must say, for our first spontaneous trip, this was a really good one, and I'd like to plan on having a few more.

We have cats. We have lots of cats. If I didn't already have Andy and later Trinity in my life, I was in danger of being one of those creepy cat ladies who dies alone with lots of cats. Well now I'll have Andy and Trinity as well as lots of cats... But our reason for having so many cats is not creepy, it's because we're soft-hearted suckers in a town where people never spay or neuter their pets, and then toss off the kittens not long after they've arrived. All four of our current resident furry friends were treated in just that way. We took them in, bathed them, treated their illnesses and injuries, and most importantly, named them. At this point if a kitten is referred to as anything beyond "palm kitty" (because they are usually so small) I know it's not leaving. Once it's got a name, it's a keeper.

I think we've reached our quota of cats for the time being. Or I should say, I've reached my quota of male cats. Although our three little boys are cuddly, affectionate, and have lovely personalities, they are boys, and boys will be boys. It used to be that only the alpha male was being a "boy" by marking his territory. All that changed at some point. We think it was when the fearless white Tom cat of unknown origins repeatedly entered our house, ate our cats' food, and took naps on the couch. That riled up all the boys who rightfully lived here, and they all started marking territory.

It's one thing if the territory is in the garden outside, but the living-room couch, the wheels of the stroller and the corner in Trinity's bedroom is quite another. And since it's three boys working the territory, we go through a lot of Nature's Miracle solution in this house. It makes me so irritated that I want to wish bad things on my pets, but then I remember bedtime.

Bedtime is quite a warm and cozy thing with four cats. When I was pregnant with Trinity, I suddenly became a cuddle-magnet for the cats. It must have had something to do with the hormones, but the cats were just all over me, and occasionally they would fight over who got the prime spot, my tummy. I would wake at night, completely pinned down with cats around my legs, hips and on my body. The cats have continued to find me their ideal snooze partner for the 2 1/2 years after Trinity's birth. I've now become more or less accustomed to the acrobatics that I have to perform in order to get out from under cats and out of my bed.

Today I experienced the ultimate compliment, which I'm not sure I'll ever get used to. Hobbes, our resident ginger cat and virtual Corby reincarnation, is my most persistent fan. Sometimes, he doesn't even wait until I'm lying down in bed before he makes a beeline for my body. If I'm too slow at getting settled, he starts to mew loudly. He's always the one who gets my tummy for the first shift of the night, and if something wakes him up later in the night, he comes back for more. This morning, after I did a quick yoga session and was tidying up, Hobbes came up to me. I said hi to him, but he turned around, so I thought he was on his way to some other important destination. Instead of walking away, he backed up against me and started that little tail quiver that means the Nature's Miracle bottle is about to get used up. I yelled when I saw what he was doing, but too late. He actually marked ME. Well, obviously I quickly washed it off, but he marked ME as his territory. So, for the first (and hopefully only) time in my life, I can say that I was both pissed off and pissed on!

Under most circumstances, I really do love the adrenaline rush. I particularly like it after I've been for a walk, and I know that I've had a good workout and feel the adrenaline pumping through my body. It can give me an extra boost for most of the day if I do my walk in the morning, which I've started trying to do.

On the other hand, the bad kind of adrenaline can ruin your whole day. I discovered this the other morning first-hand. It was one of our usual mornings: Andy was taking Trinity out front for the ritual wave hello to the garbage men while I was busy cleaning up cat pee upstairs. While Andy and Trinity were out front, Pixel, our oldest and largest cat, snuck out from under the fence in the empty lot next door. His plan was to skulk along the wall in front of our house, and sneak into the yard of our other neighbor, Juan, and ultimately make his way back into our "compound" probably by climbing some trees at Juan's and coming over the wall into our backyard. Seeing that Andy and Trinity were in his path threw him off kilter, and instead of his usual route, he ran out into the street in front of the house.

I have often complained to anyone who will listen about how this town thinks of our street as a highway, because it is one of the very few streets in town that doesn't have any speed bumps. That means it's the equivalent of the autobahn as far as the Mexicans are concerned. So Pixel runs out into the traffic, under a moving car, out from under it between the front and back wheels into the oncoming lane, across the street to the other side of the road, and then zipped all the way back through the oncoming cars in both directions and darted under the gate at Juan's house, unscathed. If he were a dog, he surely would have been hit, at least once.

In the meantime, Andy is screaming "STOP" and waving at the passing cars trying to save our idiot pet. I'm not sure what Trinity was doing. I, of course, was having a heart attack. All I heard was Andy screaming. I flew down the stairs to the front of the house, and I don't even remember how I managed it without falling, because I assumed that it was Trinity running around in the rush-hour traffic. By the time I got to the front door, I heard Andy saying "Trinity, stay right there," so I realized she wasn't the reason he was screaming, but by then the adrenaline had kicked in. I swept Trinity up in my arms, and held her probably a bit too tight, as I ran through the front gate to our terrace. My arms were shaking, and I was on the verge of tears. Andy reported back what had happened, and went in search of Pixel.

Pixel showed up again about 10 minutes later. He was visibly shaken after his little ordeal. Andy and I were even more so. It took ages before I stopped shaking, and Andy seemed to be in a similar condition. I was already on antibiotics for an intestinal infection, but that day ended up being the worst day of that particular illness, and I'm sure it was from all of that negative adrenaline surging through my body. Over a week later I'm still heaving huge sighs of relief that Trinity is okay, and also that Pixel is okay. Just thinking about it gets my blood pumping again. In fact, I'd better stop thinking about it right now, or I might not be able to go to sleep tonight!

she had rather an adventure earlier this week. [Note: for those of you who can't tolerate discussions about vomit or poopy diapers, stop reading now.] Sunday night Trinity had her first ever "sleep-over" at a hospital. Well, strictly speaking, it wasn't a hospital. Dr. Real, our local pediatrician, has a lovely hospital room in his offices. His house is upstairs, so he is conveniently located when he has overnight patients. Apparently he has one a week, at least.

Basically, what happened is that Trinity had a really bad intestinal infection. She had had diarrhea for several days, but sometimes that happens and it just works itself out. She started eating less and less solid food, so I began to suspect she wasn't feeling well, and decided to take her to the doctor on Monday morning. On Sunday, she started to vomit. After three incidents, we called the doctor and went for a visit. He gave her an injection that was supposed to stop her vomiting within the hour, and gave us prescriptions for antibiotics, pedialite, and an anti-vomit med. Unfortunately, she kept on vomiting. The poor dear would drop off to sleep, and wake up half an hour later and vomit. We had to be on duty right next to her with a bowl and towels the whole time. After a couple of hours, we called Dr. Real again, and he said she needed an IV.

We packed as if we were going on a 2-day trip, mainly because we had no idea how long we'd be at the doctor's office. I even included a couple of Trinity's favorite books, Teddy, my laptop with her favorite movies (Harry Potter), and an icebox with snacks for me and Andy. We got there and saw the brightly painted hospital room, complete with extremely uncomfortable hospital bed (if you weigh more than 30 pounds/13 kilos), colorful teddy-bear covered blinds, ceiling fan, air-conditioning and private bathroom. Except for the bed, it was kind of nicer than some of the hotels we've stayed at here.

Dr. Real was as friendly and efficient as ever.

He had already laid out a sheet, in which he informed us we would swaddle Trinity so that he could insert her IV. Andy carefully showed Trinity all of the medical instruments and tubing, and explained to her that after we put the IV in, she would be able to drink water through the tube without throwing up. I know she's only 2 years and 3 months, but she totally understood and was reasonably calm. She was not too excited about the idea of being swaddled, so we asked if we could skip that part, but Dr. Real said it was really necessary. We explained to Trinity that he is an expert, and that it must be done. She cried, but cooperated anyway.

Andy held her arm, I sang to her, and Dr. Real inserted the IV. Trinity cried and said "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" but she didn't move, and remained really calm. Dr. Real said she was really brave, and one of the easiest kids he'd ever worked with. We were proud. At first Trinity was fascinated with the IV, and spent a fair amount of time looking at it and would have fiddled with it if we hadn't held her other hand back. Then after a while she said "Other hand, no," and pointed to the hand without the IV. We agreed with her that two IVs would not be fun.

We could tell almost immediately that Trinity was feeling better, but she was so exhausted that she mostly dozed on the bed to start off with. Sadly, she was still waking and vomiting, but there wasn't much left to throw up, and the intervals kept getting longer. When we arrived it was every half hour to hour. Then it was an hour and a half, then 2 and half hours, then 3 and a half hours. After that, 1:30 am on Monday morning, she didn't throw up again. But since we didn't know she wasn't going to throw up again, we were still alert every time she moved. She would wake up every now and then and look at her IV, then look at us and say "Eso, no; eso no," ("This no, this no) with her eyes filling with tears and her lower lip quivering. Then she started getting mad, and tried to rip out the IV and started kicking and crying. That's when we heaved a sigh of relief and knew she was totally on the mend. She actually had the energy to get mad and fight.

We all miraculously slept in until around 9:30 in the morning. I'm not sure how; Andy was on the camping pad and sleeping bag on the floor, and I was curled up next to Trinity on the extremely lumpy mattress. By 11:00 am or so, we gave Trinity a small cup of water. She did this amazing and entertaining puckering thing with her lips, which definitely indicated to us that she was really thirsty, in spite of being so hydrated by the IV that her diapers were literally overflowing. She eagerly drank half a cup of water, and we waited to see what happened. She didn't get sick after waiting for 40 minutes or so. Dr. Real said he would disconnect the IV and we could go home.

We got Trinity home, and aside from her being very wary for the first few days about eating solid food, and her failing to take her regularly scheduled naps, she's pretty much her normal self again. Well, she's her normal self that is being cooped up in the house and not allowed to go play with friends or attend play-school. We have to wait until her defenses are back up so she doesn't catch whatever everybody else has as soon as she sees them. We expect that'll be within another couple of days. In the meantime, Trinity's new favorite phrases are "not feeling very well" and "I sick". She's such a sweetie, and we're so glad she's feeling better!

Trinity started play-school last week. She's only 2 years and 3 months old, but she seems really ready to be around other kids, learn to share, and spend some time away from home. I feel nervous, guilty, excited, and sad about the whole thing, so she's only enrolled for Monday, Wednesday and Friday for this first month, 3 hours a day, and next month we'll bump it up to Monday through Friday.

There are many plus sides to sending her to play-school. Her friend Ginger is enrolled in the same class. Trinity definitely wants to play with other kids. Denis, the babysitter, is now also the housekeeper, so if Trinity is in school, Denis will have some time to clean house, at which it turns out she excels. In fact, Denis is a better housecleaner than babysitter. It's also good to have Trinity out of the house so I can have some quiet time to do some work. In spite of Denis being here baby-sitting Trinity, I was unable to get much work done, because I would either get interrupted by Trin or Denise, or I would walk into whatever drama was happening and get distracted and pulled in.

It's really weird to have Trinity out of the house for 3 hours. The house is suddenly empty. Quiet. Peaceful. Depressing. Obviously, I'm experiencing a number of different emotions.

How is Trinity faring? Last Monday, I attended the whole 3 hours with Trinity. It was more because I wanted to observe the teachers than be with Trinity. When we enrolled Trinity, the two teachers/babysitters in Trinity's class were on the diaper changing train - there's quite a few smaller children in Trin's class, and I thought they didn't appear particularly happy. Generally people go gaga over Trinity, especially here in Mexico where her bright blue eyes and white blond hair are unusual. These ladies didn't crack even a hint of a smile. So I wanted to sit in to make sure Trinity was going to be in a good situation. I think my first experience was just a bad day for the teachers, because the day I sat in the teachers were chipper, smiling, playing with the kids, and all seemed rather well to me.

On her first day, Trinity had her ups and downs.

When I snuck out so I could observe her without her seeing me, she almost immediately noticed my absence and lost it. I came back in and sat in the corner. Later, someone accidentally stepped on her toe, and she cried. Then she was playing on the baby climbing frame, and given that she's nearly 30 pounds (over 13 kilos) she managed to pull the whole thing down on top of her and slam her head into the wall. There were lots of tears her first day. But overall, she seemed to have fun, and was quickly bossing everyone around. (She is quickly growing into the nickname "Bossy Boots")

On Wednesday, she was to be on her own. We discussed it extensively, that I'd walk with her to play-school, she would play with Ginger, I would go home and work, and I'd pick her up at 1:00. After I gave her a kiss goodbye, she launched herself and climbed up my body and clung on like there was no tomorrow. The teacher and I had to peel her legs and arms away from me so I could get out. As I walked away, I heard her screaming and crying, and I saw her shoe fall off, which usually upsets her on the best of days. I can still hear the echos of the cries right now. I walked out of the school, and started crying myself. I had to call Andy on my walk home, because it's embarrassing to be crying while walking around if you don't at least appear to be having a conversation with someone. Then I got home, called Sabrina (Ginger's mom) and cried some more. It was a rough day. I kept wanting to call the school and see how Trinity was doing, but I knew that if she was still crying, it would only make me more upset, and it would be a bad idea for me to go back. Trinity needed to learn to be in school.

I was 8 minutes early to pick her up that afternoon. I walked in to find that Trinity was happy as a clam, had lots of fun, and didn't want to leave. The teachers all said that she cried for less than 10 minutes, and then sat with Ginger while they both ate their peanut butter sandwiches. She cried less than 10 minutes! I cried longer than that! I couldn't believe it! But I was so happy to hear that she had so much fun, and that she liked playing with the other kids. She even let one of the teachers do her hair.

When I dropped her off at play-school on Friday, Trinity ran into her classroom and immediately started playing. This is old hat to her. No problem. It also happened to be Día de La Revolución in Mexico, so there was a party and dancing and she came home with a festive apron filled with sweets. She might be under the impression that she'll always get to have a party and dance and eat treats at school, and that could be why she's so happy to be there, but at least she's happy, and at least I've finally stopped crying!

Trinity is now 2! We can't believe it! Her party was on Sunday, June 3 (her birthday) and much fun was had by all. One of Trinity's favorite movies is Monster's Inc. and we wanted to try and do a theme party for her. Thanks to the lovely and creative ideas of Rai, I was talked into making a Monster's Inc. cake for the party. I tried to also order party supplies online to have Rai bring them down from the states, but because the movie was released in the year 2000, all of the themed items have been discontinued. As luck has it, we live in Mexico, and when the US gets tired of stuff, they ship it down here. Also lucky for me was Rai's eagle eye in spotting the party store near the Mercado that had all the stuff I needed: invitations, plates, cups, loot boxes, blowers, hats and buttons. Our babysitter Denis introduced me to a lady who makes piñatas, and I hired her to make a Sully piñata for us. All that was left to do was make the cake...

The Cake Fiasco...

It wasn't really much of a fiasco. The plan was to make a rectangular cake frosted with frosting that looks like Sully's fur, and make a ball cake, and cover it in fondant and decorate it to look like Mike Wyzowski. Mike was to be sitting in the center of the cake. I've been watching this tv show on the Food Network (thanks again for the dishnetwork, mom) called Ace of Cakes, and after seeing some of their creations, I convinced myself I was up to the task. Apparently I wasn't totally convinced, though, because I started having cake nightmares weeks before Trinity's birthday. It really reminded me alot of moot court during law school. My first attempt at fondant was from a recipe in the Joy of Cooking, and sadly, it didn't specify that it was fondant to be used as candy rather than fondant to wrap cakes with, so after several attempts at making it (and making a great batch, just of the wrong stuff) I turned to the internet and discovered recipes for "rolled" fondant. Those recipes were a breeze, the only problem is that fondant is not so easy to work with, especially in a hot humid environment. I hired Denis to watch Trinny for the day on Saturday, turned the a/c on high, and started my day by making multiple batches of buttercream to frost the cakes with. Yummm....there went my diet for the weekend. We didn't have any red food coloring (and couldn't find it at our local stores), so I wasn't able to make the Sully fur turquoise and purple, so I had to do it sort of turquoise and dark blue. The turquoise turned out to be really really green, but oh well. Then it was time to color Mike. The green turned out perfect, and I couldn't believe I managed to blend in the color so smoothly into the fondant. Then I rolled out the fondant.

My problem came in when I tried to pick the fondant up - it had started getting too dry, and by the time I was wrapping the round cake with it, it was cracking and falling apart. I chose the most messed up side to cut into to make his mouth and eye, so most of the rest of him looked okay. I couldn't belive I managed to get all the fondant teeth and eyeball to stick, and really, the cake did look great. But if I were doing this professionally, and believe me, I'd have to be paid ALOT to do it regularly, I would never have gone with my first attempt.

Beach Babies

The party was at our favorite Sunday morning hangout, Popeye's on Playa Larga. There's a baby pool that the kids could swim in, or stand in if they don't want to swim, and lots of sand and lovely views. The food is good, and we ordered lots of appetizers of quesadillas, camaronillas (shrimp tacos) pescadillas (fish tacos), breaded fish fingers and guacamole. We had, all told, about 22 adults and 14 kids. The best part (for me) was that I could totally enjoy myself, because my work was done. The restaurant cooked the food, brought out the drinks, and cleaned up the plates. After a week of making ice cream, fondant, and cakes, I was ready to chill out and enjoy the party. Trinity was an absolute champ. Normally she's ready for her nap by 1:30 or 2:00, and we ended up staying at the beach until 6:00 with Trin only having a few crying spells that didn't last long. Trinity spent the day playing in the pool with her friends, learning to make sand castles, and asking Daddy for more tattoos. We bought two huge sheets of temporary tattoos, one of spiderman and one of princesses, and they were the hit of the party. Andy was in charge of the tattoo station, and he was busy the whole day. Even most of the adults got tattoos. Trinity ended up with Spiderman on her right arm, a mermaid and a princess on her left arm, an arm band of something, and all the disney princesses posed together on her stomach. Lovely. Luckily they only last a few days.

Everyone loved the ice cream and cake (yay) and the piñata was a hit (no pun intended). Strangely, none of the kids wanted to break the piñata because they all really liked the movie Monster's Inc. We finally managed to convince two of the older boys to take out their aggressions on Sully, and in spite of breaking the stick into four pieces, they finally broke the piñata and got to the goodies inside.

All in all, it was a fabulous party, if I do say so myself. What made it fabulous, really, is that we have so many great friends, with such lovely kids, and it was such a pleasure spending the day with them. Having said that, I'm glad Trinity's birthday only comes once a year!

I've already mentioned how quickly Trinity is growing up. It's just so fascinating to see her personality shining through as she does it. One of her favorite words right now is "tattoo". We bought tons of temporary tattoos because she just loves them, and clearly wants to have them on her. She has also requested very specifically on more than one occasion that she have her bellybutton pierced. I think 2 years old is a bit soon, so we'll pass on that for now. So aside from tattoos and body piercings? She loves to sing and dance. I think we definitely have a future musician/dancer/artist/whatever on our hands.

Trinity is a very interesting mix of Andy and me, and we can see it in everything, from the way she plays with her toy kitchenette set to the way that she eats. Eating and sleeping have been my biggest issues over the last number of months. I thought that Trinity had a problem, but now I'm coming to realize that I just didn't know what I was doing and have gotten us into our current mess. As far as eating goes, Trinity was doing great, until she started feeding herself. Then the only thing she would eat was bread, rice, tortillas and the occasional slice of ham while we were shopping at Comercial Mexicana. (Her favorite breakfast food is toast with bovril on it, which she refers to as "poo." I do correct her whenever she calls it that, but I can't help laughing, not being a fan of marmite or bovril myself.) But now I see where the problem is - it is not that she doesn't want to eat, it's that she can't be bothered to feed herself when there is so much going on. If I cut up pieces of omelet, and shove them in her mouth as she passes me by during breakfast, she eats the entire omelet, asking for more after she's finished each piece. The same goes with slices of beef, chunks of chicken, and the occasional piece of vegetable (she is her father's daughter, after all). The other night she ate almost all of my grilled salmon. But if she had the choice, milk alone would sustain her, and it would be injected or fed to her while she slept, so she didn't have to miss anything important wasting her time consuming fuel. This is almost exactly her father's approach to food, although he's learned to enjoy my cooking over the years, and actually takes time out for meals nowadays. We still let Trinity feed herself, but I'm realizing that she eats better if I help.

As far as sleeping goes, we are almost over the trauma that I created by ignoring all the parenting books I read. When Trinity was little, I just couldn't fathom waking her up after nursing her to sleep so that I could put her in her crib and let her cry and finally fall asleep on her own. All that crying and drama just seemed unnecessary. But when the nursing to sleep approach stopped working last November, I realized I had created a bit a of problem. We started a new routine in December with Andy reading to her, but she still wouldn't go off, so he ended up driving her in the car until she dropped off. That started taking forever after a while, so I took over again in February, after she had been weaned, and after she read a bit with Andy, I would lay down with her on the day bed until she fell asleep. It took a while, but we finally got fed up with all the effort, and gave in to the "cry it out method." The first night didn't go so well. Trinity cried up a storm for the entire 3 minutes I was out of the room each time I left, until the 4th time I was out and she threw up all over her bed. The next two nights didn't involve quite as much tears, drama or vomit, but since then, it's been up and down (with several more vomit incidents). However, last night Andy and I went out to dinner and left the babysitter alone to put her to bed, and Trinity didn't cry at all. And the previous 2 nights I had put her in her crib with Teddy and she said "no cry" and I left, and she fell asleep quietly. Phew!

So in spite of me having no idea how to be a proper parent, Trinity seems to be overcoming the hurdles and learning how to eat and sleep as she's growing up. Thank goodness! I thought for sure I had screwed her up for good, but I suppose children are designed to be more resilient than that.

As Trinity's birthday approaches, I'm having loads of fun organizing her party and getting all the party supplies lined up, but I'm sure if I just gave her a bunch of temporary tattoos and some toast with bovril on it, she'd be happy enough. Maybe I did screw her up a bit after all!