Ocean mother, ocean child, are you mine or are you wild?

Whenever someone tells me to imagine a "happy place," I find myself on this beach in San Carlos Mexico. It has been part of my life since before I can remember (family reunions with my mother's family the Paces). We used to take a Mexico trip every 3 years and I loved that my age during the Mexico summers was always a multiple of 3 (6 9 12 15 21 24 27). I was 3 years old when someone caught little me in this picture, darting towards the sea. The landscape has changed a lot in the last 20+ years, but my beloved ocean and Las Tetas, the mountains in the background (so aptly named) greet me every time like old friends. They saw me grow up. Since I'm always drowning in syrupy nostalgia I'll spare you the memories of ancient times and write about the glory of this summer, of Now.

Mexico was a song and a relief and a sweet ocean breeze filling me with hope and memory. I felt restored to myself; at the same time it was very different from any Mexico before when I’ve been able to spend endless hours wandering the beach with my CD player/ipod in hand, letting the golden sun ooze over my skin and paint me dark so that when I finally stripped off my swimsuit, my skin was the colors of Neapolitan ice cream. This time I returned to this beloved place of my childhood with my own child—my 3 ½ week old child. I had a few doubts about taking him once he was born and the reality of the complete absorption of caring for him distilled upon me, but I’m so glad we did take him!

My sweet little boo was so patient and darling on the long car trip, (I think he only cried about 3 times, and never for long) and it felt so good for me to be around more people, all of whom were falling over each other to hold him and play with him.





Since Chai isn’t old enough to really enjoy any aspect of the beach or the town, and his conversational skills are limited, his vacation highlights included screams of indignation the first time he felt the humidity seep into the car when my Dad turned off the AC, nursing while I walked across an intersection in Nogales, nursing while tilted sideways in his snugli in front of a Walmart in Guaymas, taking a nap in his playpen which we set up on the beach, meeting thousands of relatives who commented on his swarthy size and enormous lips, being adored by the members of the Miramas ward (“esta bien rojo!” “tiene unas manos bien curiosas!”), and falling asleep on the dryer with me singing to him after a particularly potent meltdown. Ha. Those are probably actually the lowlights.


I do think he must have been a little aware of how obsessed my family is with him. Every morning when I brought him into the room we were greeted by a chorus of “It’s Chai!” “Let me hold him!” “Give him to me!” Even my parents squabble over who gets a turn with him next (“Do you want me to hold him, Ed?” “Just hang on, Lorena, he’s doing fine!”) My Dad makes clicking noises at him which do calm him down and claims he is teaching Chai Swahili. Doug and Emily were our roommates and always asking if they could help. Mary and Diana “danced” him by moving his arms and legs in time to humiliating OHS fight songs, which I thought was mortifying, but Chai actually seemed to love it. Cow told me, “You’re just jealous because this is the happiest he’s ever been in his life.” Ouch. It felt so good to be able to place him in loving hands, it eased the responsibility-anxiety knots that have been twisting my heart and my muscles. I guess they won't ever go away for good now that we have a child, but it was so nice to have little breaks. I love my adorable son...I want to squiiiish him. I love kissing him all over his male-pattern baldness head.

I learned to fit play into the brief little pockets of time allotted by long naps when my mother or one of my brothers or sisters was willing to keep an eye on Chai. Those little pockets of fun were more than enough for me. All I really wanted was to hang out with everyone, swim in the ocean every day and go on a couple of walks on the beach where I could listen to music—which I did twice, and it was so relaxing and fantastic! Those walks and the songs I listen to are like keeping an old, old promise to myself. I always feel like I can walk straight into the sun, they make me so happy. The beach was lovely, hardly anyone there besides our extended family and no jellyfish this year. We usually see dolphins swimming near the beach in the mornings; this year they came so close and we paddled out to see them (“swimming to China”). They were so close to us I got a little nervous, but oh, they were beautiful! Jonathan got even closer, so close that I think he learned their ways and they accepted him as one of them, even offering him a dolphin bride. Luckily he turned them down and came back to me.

Whenever Jonathan and I got a chance to do something alone together—even walking back and forth from other condos—I’d say, “Is this a date? Are we on a date?” One night right after Chai went to sleep we ran down the beach together for an impulsive night swim, and it felt so good splashing in the warm light water and kissing in the sea...it was amazing! I had so much fun talking with family; my parents, my siblings, my cousins and my tios. I watched the 25^th Les Mis anniversary concert with my grandparents. My grandmother wept all the way through; sometimes at the tragedies of the characters, other times surely at the wretched miscasting of Nick Jonas as Marius. It felt so good to be with everyone. On one of the last nights the twinners and I were conducting one of our Awkward Photo sessions and caught the interest of some of my aunts, who requested that awkward photos also be taken of them and their spouses. It was so fun!

>I'd been looking forward to Mexico ever since we got back last year, so it's been a little rough to come home, but gracias a Dios there is always more to look forward to. Up next...Scott's wedding, grad school applications, the cabin? every single one of these glorious sunny days that zip by way too quickly lately.

Also, living with Jonny Strange is always an adventure. I really do look forward to being with him every day, even just hanging out at home together, talking and admiring our baby. He's so fiduciary and makes life so good. I've been a little bit of a disaster sometimes lately and he is always so calm, loving and steady. Everlastingly patient. People say feelings fade with time but it hasn't worn off for me yet, I don't think it ever will. Jonny, I love you real bad!

Floriberto mi chulito. I'm obsessed with him.

View from the twinners' balcony

VIVA!