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.

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 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!

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.

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!

Just when I thought I was all caught up on website photos and had my life on track to catch up and stay on top of all the other things, the summer happened. It wasn't a particularly bad summer for Andy, Trinity or me, but it was a horrible summer for many important people in our lives. Everything was turned upside down as we dealt with various illnesses of numerous people (and no, it was not only Rai), death, post-divorce lawsuit battles, family feuds (not any of ours) and a variety of unexpected and unfortunate automotive expenses including taking apart and rebuilding a waterlogged engine, removing rust and repainting the door, replacing the fuel pump, the starter motor, all four tires, the brakes and a vandalized windscreen. Additionally, as you may have already read, I have jumped on board the creation and launching of two new businesses, both of which have required as much of my spare time as I have been able to muster.

But alas, with the end of autumn comes winter. The weather has begun to cool down, the mosquitoes left for a damper climate, and everyone has begun to heal after the hardships of the summer. Once again I feel like I can say that I am on top of things. I am by no means caught up: the items on the "To Do" list I wrote last April when my mom came to visit remain unfinished, but at least I now feel optimistic that I might tackle one or two of them in the near future.

Of course, the most important thing to catch up on is the posting of photos. Trinity has been growing like a weed, and I might not be exaggerating when I say I think she's grown 2 inches just over the last few weeks. Therefore it is extremely important to me to get some photos posted on my website, before Trinity enters college. (And as far as I'm concerned, she's so darned smart that'll be real soon!)

There are some photos to check out on www.weheartzihua.com that I took when mom was visiting in October. Trinity, mom and I took a road trip to Patzcuaro, Michoacan, which is a colonial town about 4 hours north of us. We had quite an adventure, and you can read all about it on the website in "Adventures In Mexico: Road Trip to Patzcuaro". It's an edited version, because apparently people who don't know me and/or my family would not be so interested in all the details of baby vomit that were contained in the original version...well, even if you know me, you might not be interested. Anyway, until I get the photos posted on my website, you can get the story on weheartzihua.

We are thrilled to announce the launch of our exciting new business venture in Zihuatanejo. We love our lives here in Zihua, but want to become more integrated into the local community. With both of us working from home, it has been easy for us to become hermits and to forget the reasons we choose to live in Mexico: the beauty of the Mexican people, nature and traditions. For over a year we have been planning, researching and developing our business ideas. It is important to us to create a business that forges stronger connections between us and the local culture and also amongst the community at large. We are now ready to implement our plan to help promote a responsible, culturally aware, and peaceful way of life for tourists, local Mexicans and expatriates alike.

Our goals with our new corporation, Grupo de Las Poderosas, will be realized through two different endeavors. The first is a relocation assistance and consultation firm for people wanting to move here for long or short term stays. Obviously we don’t regret moving to Mexico, but we do regret the frustrations, complications and misunderstandings that we encountered along the way. We created Mexico Relocation Services to smooth and expedite the process for others moving here. Beyond the move, we will also be introducing them to the culture, connecting them with Spanish language instructors and hopefully helping them to integrate and be an active part of the local community. For more information about all of the services we will be offering, you can visit our website at www.mexicorelocationservices.com.

Quite possibly our more ambitious endeavor, weheartzihua.com is a community website for like-minded expatriates, tourists, vagabonds and wanderlusts. The website’s target audience is people who want to explore the Zihuatanejo-Ixtapa area without compromising adventure, relaxation, environmental and cultural awareness or budget. Our online community, www.weheartzihua.com, is built for maximum interaction with categorized forums, editorials, travel articles and an area directory featuring both resource information and subjective reviews.

Our corporate name, Grupo de Las Poderosas, loosely translates as “Group of the Super Girls.” We wanted a name that reflected both our power as modern women and our whimsical nature. Both of these qualities will be vital to the success of our work as we take on our big plans of launching a successful business in Mexico.

All three of our websites are now live, and we invite you to visit our sites and post questions, comments and/or wish us luck on the weheartzihua forum. We welcome your feedback and are grateful for your support. We’ll see you in the world of Zihua cyberspace!

Beverley Wolf & Isahrai Azaria
Grupo de Las Poderosas
+1 (206) 407-3433 (US)
+52 (755) 554-3176 (MX)
info@grupodelaspoderosas.com

PS: I also think you are mistaken about your age - you MUST be at least 10 years younger than you are claiming!

Okay, so I have fallen to a new low...or high, depending on your attitude. Those who know me well, or at least knew me when I was younger and more energetic, know that my two biggest passions were always music and dancing. Because I thought I was tone deaf, singing was not an option, but I did take up several instruments to satisfy my musical inclinations (piano briefly, clarinet, the guitar, and most recently, but not recently enough, japanese taiko drumming). As often as the opportunity arose, I went out dancing and boogied down until I felt like my feet would fall off, frequently for just a little longer than that. As I've gotten older, both of those activities have fallen to the wayside, much to my regret.

Now onto my most recent downfall. We finally got our satellite television system worked out, and we have the Playhouse Disney channel. Now we don't have to wait until we visit my mom or my brother before we, I mean ummm.... Trinity, can watch the Doodlebops. The Doodlebops have everything - choreographed dancing, singing, playing musical instruments, and even concerts. They are a totally hip rock band for little kids. They are so cool that Dee Dee Doodle has pink go-go boots. You can't go wrong with pink go-go boots. Trinity has even begun to show an actual interest in the show, quite possibly because I always pick her up and dance around with her during the Doodlebop theme song. And even though there are witnesses to me doing this, and actually singing along out loud, that's not what makes me feel like a total dork. What I have done is even worse. Yadira (the house keeper) came in while I was singing along and doing the choreography to "Get On The Bus" while Trinity was quietly watching the tv up close. The dance steps are rather complicated, and involve a lot of arm movements (I call them flailing) and alot of fancy footwork (I managed the hustle-style steps, but tend to trip up on some of the others). Yadira being the sweet girl that she is, just smiled quietly and went on her way. You know I've totally lost her respect after that. I mean, you just can't respect someone who spins around in their living room doing potentially dangerous dance movements while singing at the top of their lungs. The show should have one of those signs that say "Don't Try This at Home".

So I guess I'll reserve my/our Doodlebop watching for days when no one else is around the house. Although, now that I think about it, I'm less concerned about how dorky I appear than I am concerned about how irritated Yadira will be if I rearrange the furniture to give me a little more dance space. I mean, I've got to follow the passion, right?

I remember a little over a year ago when our friend Anne was telling us how she felt after her daughter Sophie was born. She said that as she left the hospital, she couldn’t believe that everyone was acting so normal. She had just had this gorgeous baby girl, and her life was changed forever. Why couldn’t people see that, and act accordingly?

I thought of those comments when we left Kaiser Hospital in Oakland after Trinity was born. As we walked out with tiny Trinny in her car seat carrier, I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face. I also couldn’t understand why no one around us seemed to react. The gardener continued gardening, the two staff members continued smoking and gossiping in the corner, the other patients continued on their way into the hospital. People noticed us, but didn’t seem to realize that we had HAD A BABY, that I had GIVEN BIRTH and that the world was hugely different from now on.

I felt this way again a few months ago when I went to our grocery store, Commercial Mexicana, to buy Trinny’s medications after her febrile seizure. I hadn’t gotten any sleep at all (although Trinny had) and I was a bit of a mess. I kept looking around and hating everyone who had a smile on his or her face or seemed to be laughing. How could people be so happy when my baby was so sick last night? Couldn’t they see this was a moment for sympathy and quiet?

Today I feel it again, this time on behalf of Norma and her family whose lives have been irreversibly changed by the sudden death of her son Jose. Every time I do something that should be normal – watch TV, do yoga, laugh and play with Trinity – I feel like I’m doing something wrong. No one should be normal and happy when this unexplained loss has just occurred. I can only imagine what Norma and her family are feeling. The only consolation I have is knowing that with time, everyone will adjust to this change too, and things will eventually feel somewhat normal again.

Andy and I have a lot of stuff. I’ve mentioned before that we’ve brought numerous items to Zihua on the plane, and that was after we shipped just about everything we owned on a container from San Francisco. Because we are no longer in a position (physically or financially) to replace our stuff, we’ve developed procedures and routines to protect it all. We have ADT Security, we have security cameras that have worked on and off over the years, we have motion detectors, we have locks on all the doors and windows, we have spikes on the wall out front and razor wire on the wall next to the formerly empty lot. We have “lock-down” routines we follow whenever we go out, to make sure the house is secure. It’s all the normal stuff that people do to keep their house and things safe in any city. It also goes without saying that all these efforts at protecting our stuff are meaningless in comparison to the safety of Trinity. However, it’s not that often one gets the opportunity to prove that point.

We had the unfortunate “opportunity” a couple of months ago. We were quietly making our way through the bedtime routine with Trinity when my world was briefly turned upside-down. I reflect back and realize that there were a few indicators which, taken together, should have warned me that Trinity wasn’t feeling well. She refused dinner, which isn’t always surprising. She spit up the one spoonful of yogurt I managed to get her to eat, which also was not unusual. She lost her balance a few times in the bathtub, but I figured it was because we had been swimming in a pool the previous day, and perhaps she had some water in her ear. Then she felt really hot when I put her pajamas on, so I tried to give her some Tylenol and she refused the second dropper-full. That’s not particularly unusual in itself, so we decided to wait a few minutes to get the rest of the dose down her. It was only a few moments after that that she started convulsing. She was having a febrile seizure, a seizure as a result of a really high fever that spiked quickly. We now know that this is something that sometimes happens to small children. It doesn’t make us feel any better to know that, and at the time it was happening I thought she was going to die.

I have always thought of myself as someone who could keep their head together in an emergency. Maybe it’s true, and to give myself and Andy some credit, in less than five minutes after the seizure started, Trinity was with a doctor. But as soon as the seizure started, I felt like my brain disconnected from my body. I started first looking for the number for Red Cross to get an ambulance here, and then quickly realized I wasn’t reading the numbers. Then I tried to call the “tourist” doctor, because I figured my Spanish would fail me, and I couldn’t find his number in my Palm (it was actually programmed into my cell phone). That’s when Andy and I decided to just hop in the car and drive to the hospital immediately. Luckily Andy reminded me to put some clothes on (my nursing bra and undies cover more than a bikini, but it still would have been inappropriate). I ran out of the upstairs living room without even closing the door, much less locking it. I grabbed my phone and the Palm, and ran to the car. We were heading to the hospital when we realized that Red Cross was only 3 blocks from our house and we would be passing it on the way to the hospital. I pulled into the driveway at Red Cross and yelled out the window in Spanish, “Help me, my baby cannot breathe!” As it turned out, Trinity was breathing, but Andy was too busy struggling against her convulsions to keep me posted on what he thought was going on.

The Red Cross facilities are frighteningly bare, but they did what needed to be done to reduce Trinity’s fever. They put cool cloths on her head and tummy, and fairly quickly after that the fever started coming down. Andy ran out and purchased some medicines they prescribed, one of which was a fever reducer, and they took effect pretty quickly. Then they said Trinity needed to be in a warm bath. They filled a large paint bucket with water and stuck her in it. Andy carefully poured water on her with a kidney dish while I ran back home to get a towel, a diaper, and some money. In my panic while the doctors were examining Trinity, I had called Rai and told her I needed her. I realized that we really didn’t need her at the Red Cross, so I asked her to meet us at the house. I guess I just needed that calming element of Rai’s friendship to contrast the chaos in my brain. I returned to Red Cross to hear Trinity kicking up a fuss. Apparently she didn’t like the paint-bucket bath, but the fact that she was protesting made me heave a sigh of relief. As the doctors had said all along, she was going to be fine, although I didn’t believe them until I heard her being normal again.

We took Trinity home and gave her another bath, in the bathtub this time. She was playing with the water coming out of the faucet and gave us a big smile and giggle as the water splashed. At that point we all knew that she’d be fine, and we even managed to get her medicine down her. That night she slept, well, like a baby, although Andy and I spent the whole night poking her to make sure she was still breathing.

Rai reported that when she arrived at the house, the upstairs door was open with the a/c running on high. The downstairs door was closed and locked, but the back doors were all open, as were some of the windows. I honestly believe that was the most open the house had ever been with no one home. But as I mentioned, we left in a panic, the only thought on our minds being the health of Trinity. So we may seem a bit uptight with all our security efforts on a normal day, but I assure you, Andy and I have our priorities in the right place. We know the difference between what is valuable and what is priceless.

As I’m nearing the end of this second box of Thin Mints, I was thinking that next year I should actually place an order for some. Andy, being the “problem solver” that he is, immediately started calculating how many boxes I should order. I’m eating 4 cookies at a time, every other day or so…there are maybe 40 cookies in each box…how many boxes do I need to buy to have enough for the whole year? But, he has missed the point. I explained that I don’t need to have enough cookies for the whole year. Aside from needing to purchase a new freezer to store the cookies, it just doesn’t work that way. Part of what is so great about a box of Thin Mints is the fact that it’s somewhat rare – you can only get them once a year. What comes with a box of Thin Mints is that sense of anticipation, of knowing that you waited all year for this. It just wouldn’t be the same if you get eat them any time you wanted.

Next year I’ll place an order for only a few boxes of Thin Mints. A girl has to have something to look forward to.

My husband looked at me with an expression of amusement, and said that no one would mistake me for a hippy. But I honestly thought that retiring from my job as an uptight Employee Benefits lawyer in San Francisco at the early age of 35, and moving to a beach-resort town in the tropics would make me a bit of a hippy. I’m not talking a hippy with the flower-child tops and long hair (been there, done that) but a hippy of the new millennium, someone who thinks outside the box, and lives life in a slightly different way than is expected. I mean, instead of love beads hanging in the doorway we had a bumper jumper for a while there, but it was equally as annoying to push aside to get into the kitchen. Anyway, at least I thought I was being quite the hippy by leaving the City and moving to the tropics.

Although I have chilled out a lot since we moved to Mexico, I have begun to realize that you can take the uptight yuppie out of the City, but you can never really get the City out of the uptight yuppie (even if she is less uptight and less yuppie). Granted, we live in a Mexican beach town where if people have shoes, they are flip-flops, getting dressed up involves wearing something other than shorts or a swimsuit cover-up, and when the power goes out, you call it quits for the day and have a margarita. But as great as it is to be in this environment, we still remember what life was like before we moved here. We remember the way things were “back in civilization”. You never really get over city life.

As a result, we still expect to receive a bill for the phone and electricity before they are shut off for failure to pay. When we find a jar of Best Foods Mayonnaise at the grocery store, we expect to be able to buy more when we run out. But that is not how things are done here. So the result is that if the bill hasn’t come by a certain point in the month, we check in with the phone/electricity companies to see when our bills are due. When the grocery store has cheddar cheese in stock, we call all of our gringo friends to make sure they know before it’s gone. We happily take a 3 1/2 hour road trip over 80 speed bumps to Acapulco or a 4 hour road trip on a toll road to Morelia just to buy tofu, coconut milk, rice noodles, mango chutney, Best Foods Mayonnaise, and to check out the latest appliances and furniture in Sears. Okay, the tofu was for Rai, but I bought all the other stuff, including appliances and furniture.

We also discover exactly what we can get away with as far as airline luggage requirements. We have paid extra and checked or brought onto the plane: 2 Japanese shoji screens, 6 electronically controlled air-conditioner ducts, an ice-cream maker, a marble pastry board, a Dutalier Glider (rocking chair) and matching ottoman, a co-sleeper/pack’n’play crib, a flat panel computer screen, more than 100 books, and lots of other smaller items. When we first moved to Mexico, most planes allowed 2 free pieces of luggage up to 70 pounds each. Over the last few years, all the airlines have reduced the weight to 50 pounds each. I believe this change is a direct result of my own personal abuses of the system.

So although I think I’m being really laid-back and chilled out, I still go to certain extremes in order to have much of the “stuff” I would probably have if we were still in San Francisco. I have the tools to create an awesome meal, we have the décor that we really want and I have the comfy rocking chair for all those hours I spend nursing Trinity. I haven’t gone as far as the Yoga Mamas in the AOL article, (they buy only the best, brand-name things for their babies), but I have to admit that I recognized many of the brands that were mentioned in the article.

So, I guess I’m not a new millennium hippy. I haven’t gotten over what it’s like living in “civilization”, and even when funds don’t really permit, I find myself loading up my suitcases (or those of visitors coming here) with familiar items that I miss and just can’t get here. Call me lame if you like, but tonight’s dessert will be homemade cherry pie a la mode, (the flakey dough rolled out on the marble pastry board, and the rich vanilla ice cream made in my ice cream maker). I think I’ll continue to strive for my kind of civilization, even if it means I’ll never really be a hippy.

My friend Rai is awesome. Not only did she want to give me a fantastic Christmas gift this year, in the form of my very own website, she created one that is user-friendly, Bev-friendly, and aesthetically really pleasing to my eyes. She also spent more hours than I’d like to count uploading all the photos that I had previously posted on my mac homepage. Rai has now spent a lot of time looking at photos of Trinity, because that’s mostly what the homepage was about, and she still wants to be my friend and lets me blab on about the baby during our thrice-weekly walks. Some friends are more precious than gold.

So, here it is, my own website, containing photos with cool categories, and also a blog. I have a blog. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to read what I would have to say, but for those of you who get concerned when you haven’t heard from me in a while, check my blog, and you will probably find out what I’ve been up to and why I haven’t been writing. (At least my intention is to post to it regularly.) However, the quick answer to why you haven’t heard from me: I have an 11-month-old baby.

In addition to posting current photos on the website, I’m hoping to go through old photos and post them, so you can see our house, both before and after shots, and our cats, and our friends, and whatever other interesting things I can find to put on the site. I’m really excited about this! The photos I’ve posted so far are only up to New Year’s Day, so there’s many more to come, including a ski trip/family vacation with the Greens and most recently a 2-week visit from my parents.