When I asked for a medium beverage, I didn’t realize what I meant to request was a super-super small

As I have grown older, I have started to spend less and less of my time doing things like watching TV or curling up to a good book.  It’s not that I don’t want to; I have issues sitting still without falling asleep.  So it’s nearly a miracle when I can sit through an entire movie and actually see the whole thing (for a while I kept wondering why I only remembered the first several minutes of various movies I’d watched with my husband).

And despite how much I enjoy attending church, and how interested I am in the topic of any given day, I struggle to stay awake during any service at any church.  A while back, I decided to pick up once again with a habit I had in high school with my favorite teachers (although back then it wasn’t because I would fall asleep, but rather because I never wanted to stop drawing something). Instead of relying on my friends and family to nudge me if my head starts bobbing, I have started to write and sketch during church service.  It may sound disrespectful, but it actually keeps me listening attentively.  I can take notes on strong points from the sermon that I want to remember while simultaneously maintaining my body and mind occupied with something else.  I have also decided to start saving my doodles and posting some of them for your (however minimal) amusement.  Today’s sketch is a quick response to our family visit to the movies this weekend (I had snacks, so I did make it through the whole movie!!)…

Hope you have a great week!

I’m soon going to wish I still had Mexican medical treatment available.

There is a long-running stigma about the medical system in Mexico.  North of the border, the general impression seems to be that if you visit a Mexican doctor for any reason, you will exit the clinic with a butchered spleen.  Essentially, we believe that Mexican medical establishments are inferior to those of the U.S.  From experience, I will say that in Mexico we may not see all of the bells and whistles we are accustomed to in the U.S.  But in spite of uninformed jokes and fears about the quality of medical service, I’m soon going to wish I still had Mexican medical treatment available.  Why?  Because it is much more straightforward, practical, and affordable than it is in the U.S.

My husband and I recently learned that our family of three will soon become a family of four (please save the applause until the end of the post, hehe)!!  I am still pretty early in the pregnancy game, but [Edit: …we have miscarried, but…] I am already pondering all the ways in which this [next] time around will be different.  First, Aron will be able to be with me in the hospital and see his second child born.  Second, we have a much broader and more intricate network of support from friends and family here in the U.S.  Third — although we are far from winning financially — we are in a much more comfortable, stable spot here in the U.S.  But there are all sorts of moments that will be distinct from those we had during pregnancy with D, and here is a good place to reflect and appreciate those times.

Aron and I were living in Mexico when we found out we were going to have our first child.  After unclear results with two home pregnancy tests (even though we already knew, you know?), we finally went to get a blood test done.  Aron accompanied me to a tiny medical analysis clinic which  Continue reading

5 Pro-Tips For Women Traveling The World

Good tips for kindness and travel…

Thought Catalog

You might think this is going to be an essay full of handy tips and nifty tricks for navigating the globe as a solo traveler of the female persuasion. You might be expecting reminders to bring tampons and condoms (both of which are often not available the exact moment you want them most), or to wear a fake wedding band to deter would-be Casanovas. I could tell you to write down cell phone numbers, since none of our memories stretch that far anymore, to photocopy your passport and stash it separately, to carry toilet paper and a ziploc for locales where neither paper nor trash bins are available.

Until two weeks ago, this was going to be that kind of essay. And then, at a moment when I was feeling my most adventurous, my most independent, my most ass-kicking and name-taking, my delusions of self-sufficiency crumbled into a puddle in…

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