Josiah turned 6 months old last week.  Oh how times flies!  Unfortunately, he, Dave and I were all sick that day (somehow Eli magically escaped the illness...sigh of relief), so there was no proper celebration of his achievement.  This kid is going to be on the move before I know it and I'm just not ready.  He's already quite the talented little roller.

I feel so blessed to have two amazing little sons who are healthy (most days) and growing and changing at such a rapid rate.

But oh, how life has changed...

In years past (they seem so long ago already!) Dave and I would have had friends over for dinner and watched the Ocars together.  This year I watched them while sitting on the floor, one hand helping the 2 year old put together a wooden train, the other hand helping the 6 month old grab his brother's toy cars that were just out of reach of his chubby little hands.

This morning when I poured myself a bowl of cheerios I also poured some in a small plastic bowl with a picture of a shark on the bottom.  During this seemingly simple and quick process I left the kitchen twice to make sure the 2 year old wasn't on top of the 6 month old who was playing on his mat on the floor in the living room.

Really relaxing nights watching tv with my husband now include something like this:

There is rarely a moment that I get to spend entirely alone in the bathroom.

Oh, and I typed a portion of this with one hand while breastfeeding and watching Max and Ruby on Nick Jr. (in Spanish to top it all off).  My multi-tasking skills have increased exponentially since becoming a mom!

Yes, life has changed.  I wouldn't trade any of it for a different life, but I certainly have my moments where I consider how different things are now.  Here's to many more changes to come...

It's official...on August 21 at 12:37PM Josiah Henry was born and we became a family of four.  As an only child, I've never been a part of a family of four before.  It still sounds a little strange for me to say.  

However, so far, being a part of a family of four has been a wonderful experience.  From the beginning Josiah has done his best to make life pretty easy for us.  Yes, he's only 2 weeks old now and I have yet to spend a day alone with two kids (thanks hubby, mom, and mom-in-law for making this possible), so we have a long way to go, but so far life is good.

Here's a quick ( not at all graphic) run down of the birth experience and life with Josiah so far:

Contractions started at regular 7 minute intervals at 2 am on my due date (seriously, how many babies actually arrive on their due date?) and increased to a steady 5 minutes apart over 3 hours.  This was actually ideal for us, as it meant that Dave was home and my very pregnant sister-in-law was off the hook for driving me to the hospital while Dave was at work.  Plus, that early in the morning is a pretty low traffic time here in Mexico City, which relieved the stress of the 45 minute plus commute to the hospital.

My doctor arrived at the hospital as we were checking in and was there for almost the whole time I was in labor.  The whole time I was in labor at the hospital amounted to a grand total of 5 hours - so much better than the twenty hours I went through after I was induced a week after my due date with Eli.

Everything progressed quickly.  I turned down an epidural knowing that last time I had made it a full 10 hours without one and it had largely worn off by the time I actually gave birth.  Although, I realize that it is no great feet to give birth without anesthesia, people in Mexico (including my doctor) seem to be amazed that I did so.  Apparently it's practically unheard of here.

After three quick pushes (so much easier than the 1 hour plus of pushing last time) out popped our healthy, 6lb 8oz. 19.5in. little boy.  My doctor has since likened the experience to being on a roller coaster with her driving and me on the accelerator.

Since then he has been amazing.  He breastfeeds without any problem and pretty much just sleeps or quietly looks around when he's not eating.  He already regularly gives us 5-6 hour stretches of sleep at night.  Seriously, Eli wasn't a difficult baby at all.  How did I get SO blessed this time?

So, for all who have looked at us with concern as we have prepared to have a baby in Mexico, do not be concerned at all.  We had a wonderful birth experience and received great care during our stay at the hospital.  My biggest complaint would be the amount of moving around they made me go through during the birth process. Four different rooms and five different beds seemed a bit excessive, but certainly not a reason not to have a baby in Mexico.

So here we are, getting used to life as four:

He's coming.

Our second child could be here any day now.  I long to see him, to feel his soft skin, and meet his sweet face.  I long to no longer be pregnant - to no longer feel like there is weighted beach ball between me and the rest of the world.  I long to be able to hold Dave and Eli closer.  This is where things are different from the first time I was pregnant.  This time I already have a precious little boy in my life.  Last time it was all new.  Life was full of first experiences.  This time I've been there, done that.  It doesn't make it any less special.  And yes, this little boy will have personality and life experiences all his own.  It's just different.

This time around a big part of my mind is focused on soaking up the last few days with just me and Eli.  Soon there will be two little boys to keep up with every day.  Soon I won't be able to give that one precious little face all of my attention.  In the midst of excitement and anticipation something in me grieves over this and wants to soak up every one-on-one moment I can with him - the sticky fingers, food covered face, sloppy kisses, and yes, even the moments of complete obstinence (the terrible twos are well on their way, people).

Suddenly I'm cherishing these moments more than ever, because soon he won't just be my baby boy, he'll be my first born.  Soon all that energy, effort, and love will be spread between two kids.

In the meantime I'm just trying to soak it all in and give him as much as this exhausted pregnant body can offer.

After a wonderful summer of time together as a family Dave is back at work today.

Our summer is officially over and I have to say that I am a little sad to see it go.

I know we are lucky that Dave working as a teacher means we get to spend the summers together.  I know that many families do not get to spend as much time together as we do.  I am counting the blessing, but I am also already missing him just a bit.  It has been nice to have more time to experience life inside and outside Mexico together.  It has been a joy to watch Eli have extra time to play and learn with Daddy.  And yes, at 38 weeks pregnant those extra hands and feet to help chase a toddler around have been absolutely wonderful!

Thanks, babe, for all you have done for our family this summer.  You have certainly taken on more than your share.

Now we begin the final countdown to the next stage in our lives.  Sometime in the next couple of weeks we will officially become a family of four.  I am excitedly anticipating seeing the face of our next sweet little boy.  I am intrigued to see how Eli, at just 21 months, adapts to life as a big brother.  And I am more than a little anxious to see how I manage as a stay at home mom to two little boys.

Changes are coming our way.  It's time to start adapting to all that is ahead of us.

This past weekend we attended by husband's youngest sister's college graduation in San Diego. As an only child, marrying the oldest of four children has meant attending many more graduation ceremonies than I otherwise would have. While I could do without listening to another speech on memories and preparing for future endeavors, sitting through another group of hundreds of students walking across a stage, and pretending to sing another alma mater that I do not actually know, there is something about graduations and stepping into the next stage of life that tugs at my heart strings a little.

I always end up reflecting on my own past graduations.

There was my preschool graduation where we walked across a little wooden bridge wearing gold paper crowns and sat for what seemed like forever. And then there was cake!

I remember virtually nothing from my kindergarten graduation except for singing some sort of song with choreographed movements (the perfect video and photo opp for proud parents) and giving my teacher Miss Toole (unfortunate last name I know) a big hug at the end.

I remember spending forever at the mall searching for just the right dress and shoes for my fifth grade graduation and being terrified that I would trip as I walked into the gym next to (gasp!) a boy. Afterwards there were lots of pictures with my two best friends. Thanks to the magic of facebook I still keep up with them. It's hard to believe th at we now have 6 (going on 7) kids between us.

Next came eighth grade graduation where the chorus sang a "lovely" rendition of R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly.". Afterwards 4 of my friends came over for a slumber party where we took lots of pictures, played MASH, and discussed the beginning of our menstrual cycles ( our biggest female accomplishment to date).

Then there was high school graduation. Both sets of my grandparents flew out for the big event. I had graduated at the top 10% of my class and been accepted into my top choice of college, I was wearing a lovely white polyester cap and gown, I had a boyfriend (who I dumped about a month later), and the world was my oyster.

Finally my college graduation, the one that really felt like an accomplishment after four years of living away from my parents, studying, contemplating careers, and building friendships to last a lifetime. I was getting married in just three months and moving to Brooklyn, NY. This time I knew that my life was really going to change. This next transition was going to be a big one.

I did not attend my graduate school graduation. The thought of paying for one more polyester outfit and sitting through another list of names just did not appeal to me. I knew what I had accomplished.

As I sat through my sister-in-law's graduation this past weekend and reflected on my many graduation experiences I came to a sudden realization. The next graduation that I attend will probably be my son's preschool graduation (it's still a ways off, he's only 18 months). The cycle is starting over and this time I'm not the graduate but the proud parent. I have entered a new stage of life. I imagine that my memories of this next set of graduations will be very different than the first set. However, each graduation will still bring with it a new stage of life - a new era and a new time to reflect.

I suddenly feel older.

Happy Dia Del Nino (Children’s Day)!  Although this is a basically unheard of holiday in the United States, in Mexico, and apparently throughout much of Latin America, it is a highly celebrated holiday.   Schools, parks, and other venues throughout the city have been holding events to celebrate the day for the last week.  There are performances, parties, piñatas and lots and lots of dulces (candy).

On Friday Eli’s preschool held their celebration.  The school simply sent home a letter informing me of the celebration and that children were expected to be dressed in cowboy/girl attire.  So we bought Eli a cowboy hat from one of the local costume stores, dressed him up in jeans and plaid shirt, skipped his usual Thursday school day and brought him to school on Friday instead, so that he could join in the festivities (treats, songs, and games related to a cowboy theme I assumed). 

Friday afternoon I came to pick him up at the usual time and was invited in for the end of the celebration.   The moms and others picking kids up were all called up in front of the kids, cowboy hats were placed on our heads, the older kids told us about all the party food and the songs they had learned, and then music came on and we were all expected to sing and dance for the kids.  I did my best to keep up, but I’m definitely not familiar with Mexican cowboy themed songs.  Next, the kids were all given bags of candy (just what my 1.5 year old needs!) and stick ponies to take home (Eli had managed to ride his occasionally, but mostly swing the stick around like a weapon).  And then we headed home.

It wasn’t until later that evening that I found out there was more to the day’s festivities.  My brother and sister-in-law apparently sent along a camera with my niece so that the teachers could get pictures of her enjoying the festivities.  They were nice enough to get several pictures of Eli as well….

RIDING A PONY! 

Nope, that wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the take home sheet or when I dropped off or picked up my child.  I can’t imagine a preschool in the U.S. bringing in ponies without some sort of hefty consent form being sent home well in advance and inviting parents to be there for the event.  But this is a little local preschool in Mexico…things are different here.

All of this to say, next time there is an event at the school I’ll be sure to ask a few more questions about what activities are involved.  I might want to actually stick around to see my kid ride a "large" animal for the first time

In case anyone was curious about my lack of posting lately - sadly my lap top bit the dust this week.  It was a hand-me-down (thank you so much to my sister-in-law, Sarah. It was great while it lasted) and had a long and useful life.  We'd been expecting it for a while.  However, I didn't fully expect the void not having a computer for a couple of days would leave me feeling.

I have become more reliant on technology than ever since moving to Mexico.  Conversations on Skype, Facebook, E-mail and Google Messenger have become so incredibly important to me.  They are how I stay connected with friends in the U.S. and around the world (hint, hint I'd love to hear from you).  It's part of my sense of community.  Without these connections I found myself feeling a bit lost.  How did people handle it back when they had to rely on waiting for written letters?  Even now it takes a good 3 weeks to get a package or card here from the U.S.. In the end I guess I'm just spoiled.

Anyway, I'm once again relying on an in-law hand-me-down computer until we figure out the finances for something new (perhaps an iPad!).  Thanks to my brother-in-law, James, I have a rather cute and tiny little Dell laptop mini to keep me connected to the outside world for a little while. I'm definitely blessed to have such generous in-laws!  And thank you to my amazing husband who spent last night getting it set up just right for me.

So next week you should be able to, once again, expect a post or two from me.  I have some things in the works and my fingers are beginning to get used to this little keyboard.

Thanks for checking in!

I’m not a runner.  I never have been.  Friends tell me they are training for a half-marathon or that competing in a triathlon is on their bucket list.  I smile and give them an encouraging “you can do it” or “good for you.”  Inside I’m thinking “why do that to yourself?”  I have a list of my own, but nowhere on there will you find anything having to do with running.  Sure, I have my brief fantasies about enjoying a good run - the sun on my face, the wind at my back, the exhilaration of endorphins surging, and a powerful feeling of strength in my legs, but these are only brief flights of my imagination. 

However, God had put a little kink in my plan to continue to avoid running.  I was reading Hebrews 12:1 (ESV):

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every single weight, and the sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us”.

I’ve read this verse many times before.  It’s a favorite of youth group and Bible study leaders (I’ve been among them).  This time I was particularly struck by the phrase “let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.”  Currently my race includes adapting to a new culture and country and learning to be a stay-at-home-mom, but I’ll be honest, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it as my husband’s race.  We moved here for his teaching job, his vision of furthering his career, his dream of learning Spanish to better reach the growing Hispanic population, which is largely underserved by the American education system, and because of his adventurous spirit that longed to try out living abroad.  I was just along for the ride; part of the family and support system.  But the truth is that this is my race, a race that has been specifically set in front of me, not by default, but by design.  Furthermore, I am called to run it with endurance; to set aside everything weighing me down in this world and give it all I’ve got.  God put me right where I am, right now, for a reason.  His timing is perfect.

He has an overarching design that has been purposely put into place.  I’m simply called to trust.  I’m called to live by faith.  Despite my questions of my purpose in this current location, despite my doubts, and despite my whining nature I’m called to live in complete faith that this is his plan.  My race is in his hands.  I don’t have to see the finish line in order to run, I simply have to run and keep trusting.

As someone who spent three years working in a college career development office I have spent a lot of time thinking about the concepts of vocation and calling.  I have contemplated how personality type, interests, skills, and education correspond with academic choice, career fit, and job change.  I am familiar with the interpretations for the Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) based on the work of Carl Jung, John Holland’s theory of Career Choice and the RIASEC interest assessment, and the DISC inventories developed by John Geier.  If you need help with a resume or cover letter I’m your girl.  However, despite this array of career theory knowledge I have spent very little time contemplating the vocation of Mom.

For the first several months of Eli’s life I worked full time.  Mom was simply thought of as one of my roles in life.  A vocation was something you did outside the home, a paid position to be done alongside other employees.  However, I longed to be able to be home with my son.  I longed to be there to see every little change and development occur for the very first time, to be able to say I was there for every milestone.  I longed to be a stay-at-home-mom, but I still didn’t think of it as a vocation, simply a dream.

Then we moved to Mexico.  One of the many reasons we moved was to enable me to live out this dream.  Here we can afford to live on my husband’s teacher’s salary.  Here we can afford for me to stay home with our kids.  I am a stay-at-home-mom. 

Before we moved here I heard many people say that the transition to stay-at-home-mom was hard.  They said that they struggled with the change from being out in the work world to being at home all the time, the transition from spending the majority of one’s time with adults to with a child (or children).  I didn’t get it.  This was my dream.  This was going to make my life so much easier.  There would be more time with my little bundle of joy, more time to get things done around the house, and more time for me.  I would be a better mother and a better wife.  I could happily live out the life of Susie Homemaker – cooking, cleaning, and raising my child with a song in my heart and a smile on my lips.  It would be like that scene in Enchanted where Giselle simply begins to sing and suddenly the apartment is clean, she has made herself a new outfit, and the world is a better place filled with incredibly helpful little creatures.

Here’s the problem: 1) I can’t sing, 2) I hate sewing, and 3) I’m pretty sure I would freak out if my apartment was suddenly filled with rats,birds, and other little critters.  As much as I would like my life to be a musical that’s just not the real world. 

Instead we moved to Mexico, I became a stay-at-home mom, and suddenly I understood what all those women were talking about.  Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love being able to stay home with Eli and feel incredibly blessed to be able to do so.  I love getting to see him grow and develop with each new day.  I even love the exhaustion of chasing a toddler around.  But it’s still exhaustion.  There’s still plenty of less than enjoyable work to be done.  I don’t think I’ll ever come to love washing dishes or cleaning toilets.

And then there’s the loneliness.  My sweet little boy with his 4 word vocabulary can only provide so much intellectual stimulation.  Plus, we moved to Mexico.  My whole world has turned upside down and I’m trying to learn a new language in the process.  It’s a challenging adventure to say the least.  But that dreaded loneliness has left me with plenty of time to contemplate the job of mom.  And I’ve come to the conclusion that being a stay-at-home mom, at this stage in my life, is truly my vocation. It’s a job that I am called to do to the best of my ability, a calling if you will.  I am not monetarily paid, I don’t really have a boss, and I’m not sure it can be put on a resume for future career opportunities, but God has given me this opportunity and I long to fulfill it to the best of my ability.

I’m still learning how to be a stay-at-home-mom, how to be a mom in general for that matter.  It’s a lesson I have a feeling I’ll be working on for a long time.  However, there’s something important about seeing it as my vocation and realizing the blessing and the calling that God has given me for this stage in my life.  Mothering doesn’t require a specific personality type, interest set, or education level.  It requires dedication, patience, unconditional love, and a lot of hard work.  Even if I go back to work someday I hope that I will never lose sight of being a mom as part of my vocation.  It’s a high calling and a blessing.  It’s beautiful and overwhelming.  It’s part of the adventure.  

Dear Eli,

In a few short months you are going to be a big brother.  I’m not going lie, your life is going to change pretty drastically.  You will not have nearly as much one-on-one time with me and Daddy.  However, this in no way means we love you any less.  In fact, the amount of love we have for you will never decrease - I have a feeling it’s only going to continue to grow. 

For the past 14 months you have been an amazing delight.  We continually thank God for the blessing you are in our lives.  You are an astoundingly happy little boy with an infectious smile.  We are enamored with your thirst to learn and experience new things, and we pray that you keep that thirst throughout your life.  You’re already an adventurer who fears almost nothing (sometimes I wish you had just a little more fear as you dive off the couch headfirst or shove your hand inside the dog’s mouth).  I know that you can take on this next challenge with the same gusto.

I am looking forward to seeing you learn to be a big brother with the sweet, adventurous spirit that has made you such a joy already.  More than one person has said that our next child has a lot to live up to, and they are right, you have set the bar high. 

In the short time you have been alive you have already experienced drastic changes to your little world.  You have traveled and moved from place to place like a champ.  You make each new person you meet your friend in practically no time.  You have adjusted to this new life in Mexico more seamlessly than the rest of us, and for that we are so thankful.  Yes, your life is going to go through another drastic change in just a few months and you’re probably not going to like all of the changes, but I am confident that you can handle it.  I am confident that you are going to be an amazing big brother.

Thank you for all the ways you have blessed us already, sweet boy.  Thank you for making being your mother such a joy.

Love,

Mommy

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m excited to announce that in August our little family of three will become a family of four!  That’s right, we’re expecting another child and currently I’m feeling:

                                               A)    Thrilled about the news.

                                               B)     Incredibly blessed that we were able to get pregnant so easily this time.

                                               C)    A little nauseous.

                                               D)    Slightly terrified at the prospect of keeping up with two kids under two.

                                               E)     All of the above

Please send your guesses (and prayers) my way!

Our first "home" in Brooklyn, NY

Americans love their clichés about home.

Home is where you hang your hat.

Home is where you lay your head.

Home is where the heart is.

There’s no place like home.

My definition of home has been gradually evolving over the last several months.  For five years, without question, I would have said that home was Reno, NV.  Reno is where we lived.  Reno is where everything we owned in the world was at the time.  Reno is where we own a house. 

Then we packed up our stuff to moved to Mexico.  We put everything we could possibly cram into our little SUV and the rest we put in storage in Reno.  We lived with family and friends for about two months.  We moved our lives to Mexico.

While we were visiting Reno over the holidays a friend at church started to say welcome home and then stopped.  Do you still call this home?  I paused for a moment.  Yes, I still think of this as home.  But, why? 

Home is where you hang your hat.  Sure, a lot of our stuff is still in Reno, but the most important items – the ones we couldn’t live without are in Mexico.

Home is where you lay your head.  I admit I’m pretty attached to my own bed, but the bed I’m currently sleeping on is not the same one I slept on in Reno. 

Home is where the heart is.  Well, there are actually little pieces of my heart all over the place.  There’s a piece in Maryland where I grew up and where my in-laws still live and graciously let us stay from time to time.  There’s a piece of my heart in Texas where the majority of my extended family lives and I have so many wonderful childhood memories.  There’s a piece in Pennsylvania where I went to college, grew into an adult, and met five amazing girlfriends whom I know I will have for the rest of my life (they currently hold pieces of my heart in Pennsylvania, Indiana, Colorado, and Georgia).  There’s a piece of my heart in Brooklyn, NY where Dave and I lived for the first year of our marriage.  There’s a piece of my heart in Reno where we lived for 5 years, my parents live, we still have many friends, and Eli was born.  And there’s a piece of my heart in Mexico where I’m currently living and growing.  The list goes on.

There’s no place like home.  If my home is in so many places, how can there be no place like home?  In the end I’ve come to realize that home is wherever I’m known and loved.  It’s wherever I am with friends and family and most importantly with Dave and Eli.  It has nothing to do with the stuff I own and is not tied to any specific place.

Sorry for the blogging delay.  I needed a little break. 

In two days we will head back to the United States for the first time in over 5 months.  There are so many things I am looking forward to – seeing friends and family, being able to fully converse with everyone around me, filling my belly with way too many cookies and various other American food offerings, the list goes on….

But for those who will actually have to get to see me in person I have a few warnings.  Some parts of Mexican life have become second nature.  Please don’t be surprised if I do any of the following:

1)      Greet every person I pass on the street with good morning, good afternoon, or good evening (probably in Spanish).

2)      Enter a room and greet each and every person before sitting down or stopping to have a full conversation (and also when leaving).

3)      Give you a kiss on the cheek when I greet you or say goodbye.  I assure you that I am not hitting on you.  It is simply the Mexican way.

4)      Feel the need to search for something for toilet paper and some change to pay the attendant before entering a public restroom. 

5)      Throw my toilet paper away in the trashcan rather than flushing it in a public restroom (although, unless you are stalking me, I’m not sure how you’ll know about this one).

6)      Expect there be someone to help me park in any given parking lot.

7)      Tip the bagger at a store or anyone helping out in the parking lot.

8)      Drive as if everyone on the road is out to get me and treat general traffic laws as somewhat optional (don’t worry, I’m going to really work at keeping this to a minimum).

9)      Try to light your stove or oven with a lighter.

10)  At any point reply to something you have said in broken Spanish.

That’s right, 2 days until we’re in Maryland and 11 days until we’re in Nevada.  Now you too can count down the days until you get to see these smiling faces.

My husband recently pointed out to me that I have used this blog on more than more occasion to tell the word what I am missing while I am here in Mexico and suggest that packages be sent my way.  I would hate for you to ever start reading this blog and think “oh no Abby’s begging for stuff again” or “seriously, your world is incomplete without Wheat Thins?!”.  Honestly, my world here is abounding.  I am blessed to be among the small percentage of the world’s population that has so much.  Yes, I have my days where I miss things that I got used to having around back in the states, but I also have days where I revel in the abounding number of new things I have to experience here.  Life is good, just different.

Yesterday I read Paul’s words in Phillipains 4:11-13:

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am in to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things though him who strengthens me.”

That last verse was drilled into me into Sunday school classes throughout my childhood.  It is glued deep into the recesses of my brain, but it is the first two verses that make it powerful. Content in every situation?  Really?  I want that. 

I am not in low circumstances, hunger, or really any form of need right now.  In fact, in many ways I am facing abundance.  Isn’t it funny that sometimes we truly have to learn the secret of facing abundance?  Isn’t that what I wanted all along?  Except this abundance is different.

I’m learning the secret of facing different.  It’s beautiful and new and honestly we probably all need more of it in our lives.

salty snack foods.

Yes, they exist here in Mexico, but not in the same variety they do in the U.S..  Yes, this is probably to the benefit of my health, but that doesn't make the current craving go away.

Here are my top five favorites (in no particular order) that I can't find here:

1.  Wheat Thins
2.  Rold Gold Honey Wheat Braided Twists Pretzels
3.  Pop Secret Homestyle Popcorn
4.  Utz Salt and Vinegar or Carolina BBQ Potato Chips (Although I couldn't get these on the west coast of the U.S. either)

and for the salty + sweet bonus...

5.  Take 5 Candy Bars

So, if anyone has an overwhelming urge to spend a lot of money on shipping you can feel free to send any of these items my way! Or, if you happen to have a recipe that might help my craving subside that would be greatly appreciated as well!

Dave and I had a great life in Reno.  We were surrounded by friends.  My parents lived right around the corner and were available to help all the time (thanks for all that free baby-sitting, Mom and Dad).  We both had great jobs and amazingly supportive bosses and co-workers.  Lake Tahoe and the gorgeous Sierra Nevadas were right there for us to enjoy any time we wanted.

Life was good, but it was full.  It was abounding with commitments – all of them good things, and all of them things we enjoyed doing, but we were busy practically every night of the week.  It was overwhelming at times.

Life in Mexico is simpler – more relaxed.  I’m no longer working outside the home.  Dave is home from school much earlier.  We spend more time just being a family.  We learn and grow together every day as we create our life in a new culture.

Life is also simpler because we don’t have as much.  Our apartment is comfortable, but much less full.  We’ve come to like it that way.  Sure, there are a few more appliances I’d like to have.  For instance, we have a washer, but no dryer.  Somehow I’ve even come to love going up to our cage on the roof of the apartment building to hang clothes to dry.  There’s something nice about standing outside, feeling the sun on my face, looking over the city and pinning my clothes on a line.  Where else can I look out over Estadio Azteca (the only stadium in the world to host two World Cups, as Dave and James often remind me) while I do such a basic chore as laundry?  Hanging clothes to dry is not something I thought I would ever appreciate. I won’t turn down a dryer when the time comes. But in this moment I’m happy with what I have.

I’m enjoying my simpler life.

Am I flexible enough?  I ask myself this question a lot.  I don’t mean flexible in the sense of being able to touch my toes (which is not one of my strengths by the way).  I mean flexible in the sense of being able to take whatever life throws at me with grace and courage.  Can I handle changes in my lifestyle or even changes in the day to day and still smile and count my blessings?

Mexico has required me to be flexible.  My whole world has changed and I would like to believe I’ve handled it pretty well so far, but I’ve definitely had my grumbly moments (ok and sometimes days).  I just want to make sure that overall I’m not just rolling with the punches, but actually being flexible, adapting to the new, and counting my blessings.

I am blessed to be able to stay home with an adorable, healthy, even-tempered, and joyful little boy (I should probably take some cues from him).

I am blessed to be married to a God-loving man who enjoys his work, supports his family, knows how to make me laugh, and gets home by 4:30 every day.

I am blessed to live near family who loves me, supports me, and has been overwhelmingly willing to help me as I adjust to a new culture.

I am blessed to have loving family hundreds of miles away who I can still talk to regularly over Skype and who prayerfully support me no matter where in the world I am.

I am blessed to live in a new culture – to have opportunities to explore and expand my horizons.

There are so many reasons I am blessed.

Proverbs 31:25-26 says “Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.  She opens her mouth with wisdom and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”

I want to be that woman.  I want to always be ready to take on the days ahead with strength, dignity, wisdom, and kindness - no matter what they hold.

Now don't get me wrong, Mexico is bursting with color.  Colorful produce and crafts line the streets. Homes, underpasses, and sculptural designs throughout the city are emblazoned with color.  What I'm missing are fall colors - the yellows, oranges, and reds of leaves gradually changing and then making their way to the ground.  Mexico City has a Utopian temperate climate right now, the 60s and 70s weather that people in Arizona and Alaska dream about this time of year, but I'm missing the nip in the air that autumn brings.  This is the first time I've lived in a climate without four distinct seasons, and I can't help but daydream about the days of this:

Well, we made it Mexico City yesterday evening without a hitch and today we enjoyed a fairly relaxing Sunday.  I say fairly because we have all been pretty exhausted today.  Eli's sleep schedule has been off for quite some time now and last night was the worst night yet.  I can't blame him though.  In the last 6 weeks we have slept in 12 different homes/hotels in 7 states and 2 different countries in 3 different time zones.  Despite it all he's still one of the happiest kids I know.  We've been blessed.

In all of our moving around we have been shown more hospitality than I could begin to tell you.  Thank you to everyone who has taken us in to your home over the past several weeks.  We're currently staying with Dave's brother and his wife, and although we're very comfortable and so thankful to them we're ready to have a place we can call our own.  Four adults, two small children, and two dogs in one small house can be a bit overwhelming at times.  Please continue to pray that we find someone to rent our condo back in Reno.  Until that happens we'll be staying here while we send a big chunk of our income back to the states.

And finally, the first installment of "Things I'm adjusting to in Mexico City":
1 - Speed bumps that aren't marked at all
2 - Getting my toilet paper on the way into and often paying for public restrooms
3 - Not flushing toilet paper
4 - Roosters crowing on the neighbor's roof
5 - The trash collectors ringing a cowbell when they come to collect the garbage (there's no set schedule)

Thanks for taking the time to catch up with us - more to come...