She has what?

Question:  What do Velveteen Rabbit, Little Women, AND Little House on the Praire have in common?  See below for the answer.

Last week, my youngest pumpkin got her first cold.  She started getting a little fussy, stopped eating table food, and she got a fever.  The nights were the worst–tossing, turning, twisting, nursing!

Monday I stayed home with her and we took her to the doctor’s office.  He told us that he believed chicken pox was still leaving her system.  It bothered me–it didn’t make sense, but I know I am not a doctor.

Tuesday she began to get a rash, and I sent a message to the doc asking if it was a reaction to her medicine.  He insisted it wasn’t.  

Fast forward to today:

Victor called right away to tell fm that the baby’s rash was worse!  She was covered head to toe with the most uncomfortable looking rash!  So again, I messaged the doctor and off we went.


 My poor baby has scarlet fever!  Yes! It still exists!  Not just in great books!  

At one time this was serious!  I mean, the rabbit in The Velveteen Rabbit was cast aside due to her playmate’s disease!  Beth died from scarlet fever in Litle Wonen.  And poor Mary in the Little House on the Praire went blind (in the books) from the disease! 

Curse you for the dramatic flare you add to literacy, Scarlet!  Get back in to the pages of the books I read, and off my baby’s body!  This mama needs to sleep!

My Parasite Baby

You know what’s scary? Thinking you feel a phantom baby moving around in your uterus for a week. These are the thoughts that go through your head:

Crap! Was that a baby?
Am I pregnant?
Wait…when was my period?
If I feel a baby then I’m four months pregnant at least!
Sooo, am I like those women on TV who don’t know they’re pregnant?
I can’t be pregnant. Can I?
Aww. I wouldn’t mind having another baby.
Wait! What are you thinking! You don’t need another baby right now!
What would I do if I’m pregnant?
My boss is going to kill me.
I need to google this. “Why do I feel a baby moving if I’m not pregnant?”

Me:“Victor, it feels like a baby is moving. My tummy hurts. I feel really full.”
Him:“I think we all might need to take an anti-parasite pill.”

Okay. Intestines moving around…
Whew! Just a parasite baby…

Pump and Dump


Suspecting you’re pregnant is a little awkward when you have a newborn baby. Not that I wouldn’t love another someday, but Irish Twins while living in Mexico wasn’t isn’t really in my plans. Big sigh of relief when I found out that it just parasites (I guess a baby is a parasite too–but I’m referring to the wiggly kind that give you some serious issues…)

That’s right, people. Parasites have now been upgraded to Just Parasites.

In Chiapas, I was told that you should take an anti-parasite pill every six months. And I had to take my first pill about three months in. It’s really no big deal. You just swallow a pill–and usually your problems will start clearing up in a couple days.

I went to the drug store for a little info. At pharmacies in the States pharmacists are equipped with knowledge at their fingertips. In fact, we are giving a pamphlet of information AND we have to sign a form agreeing or disagreeing to council with the pharmacist. Not in Mexico.

In Mexico, if you ask the question, “Can I breastfeed while taking this?” the first thing the lady behind the counter does is turn the box over to observe an emblem of a pregnant woman with a / (slash) through her. This emblem is on EVERYTHING.

After she tells you that you need to talk to a doctor, that is it. No more information will be given to you. I waited to see the doctor at another pharmacy, but when he wanted to prescribe a anti-nausea pill, I decided he wasn’t worth my time.

Four pharmacies and no anti-parasite pill, and I returned home with a papaya. After all, remember? The seeds are supposed to be helpful at ridding your body of pests. The next morning, Victor headed out to the pharmacy. I didn’t last long…

We talked to the doctors, and decided it would be best to pump my milk for a while. I figured it was a good thing I had over eighty ounces stored in the freezer. The first time I pumped, it was one of those strange times where I got close to ten ounces. I almost cried watching that precious gold go down the drain! I did cry later that night when Alexandria was fussy for some mommy milk and I was unable to accommodate her.

The next day was tougher. I swear she snubbed me–gave me the cold shoulder. I never realized just how hard that would be… How amazing it felt to snuggle her close to me today! Next time, I might as well make that parasite comfy! It will be really hard to do this again!

Oh, Husband Dear…

Let me just preface this by saying that I am the baby whisperer.  That might be a slight exaggeration, but I have held about a million babies.  Okay, that too.

I’ve held my share of babies.  And my friends’ shares because they get all nervous around babies.  I remember the first baby I “put to sleep.” He was this adorable little twin, and I was so proud of myself.  I was probably about 8.  Since then, I’ve grabbed every baby that I am within ten feet of to hang onto.  My first niece was born when I was 16, and since then– twelve more kiddos have entered our family.  I haven’t dropped one.

So, dear husband, understand that when you tell me, “Hold the baby’s head!” I am taken aback.

And I reply with swagger, “This ain’t my first rodeo.” (Pretty sure that was lost on you…)

Oh, I love your concern–don’t get me wrong.  Today when I doubled over in pain after sneezing (ah, pregnancy), I thought we were going to run to the hospital.  I had to literally Google  “I am pregnant and it hurts when I sneeze” to explain WHY this happens.

I’ve had a runny nose all night, and during our movie night, every time I gave a little sniffle you would pat my leg and ask how I was.  Then, when I kicked off my shoes when I came home,  you quickly got me my slippers because I “shouldn’t walk around barefoot.”

Oh, heaven help us.

This is why I get up and fix you breakfast.  You’re too dang sweet!  I have to do nice things in return (plus I am really, REALLY hungry in the morning).    I WANT to do nice things in return.  And when you offer to help when I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I just love you more.

Raising a baby with you is going to be amazing.  Unless you tell me to hold his head…  Then you’re going to see a little of my Mamaw in me.  (You might not understand that, but know this: it won’t be her good side.)


Another Day With Fingers Crossed

Sorry to keep writing about being sick…

The thing is, I can’t get over this ickiness!  I feel about like my blog dashboard.  One day I am soaring when I wake up–the next I feel like a truck literally ran over my legs.  Last night I actually cried.  I haven’t done that since I went to the hospital.  It was really tears of frustration…  Poor Victor is ready to send me back to the States.  That was our agreement last night:  If I don’t get better, I will go home.  ugh.

I don’t want to go home.

I mean, I know that eventually I will have to.  I have things to pay for, and Mexico doesn’t quite cut it.  I still need to make a little less than double what I am currently making to pay for my school loans.  That can get pricy!  (In pesos it is even more pricy…)  They don’t seem to have a deferment for people who move to Mexico either.

I was thinking yesterday of my things at home.  I wish that I could erase that part of being an American clean: things.  They don’t matter.  But, I sure would love to have some nice things some day.  That makes me feel like a bad Mexican.  I have started a small collection of antiques at Mama’s house–and I have always put off buying my kitchen things until I get a house.  I would love to have an amazing Kitchen Aid mixer.  I would wear that thing out!  Yesterday Rachel even bought me this sign I have wanted for years.

Ah, well… Here’s to another day of hoping that I feel well!  That my legs will work all day!  That I will get to write upbeat things again (these depressing posts are going to do me in…)

Embarrassing Ya-ya (Embarazada)

I live in Baby World.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love babies as much as the next Blakley (it seemed more powerful to say “Blakley” and not “girl…”).  It just seems that 1) everyone is having a baby 2) everyone THINKS I am having a baby 3) if you’re close to 30 and live in Mexico, a baby is the natural suspicion.

It all starts with the kidney pain.  Apparently, kidney pain is a normal thing to have when you’re pregnant.  So, yesterday I went for my ultrasound.  I know.  Right?  If you’re wanting to convince people who you aren’t carrying child, going for an ultrasound is not the way to do it.  I am sitting there (early, because Victor insists on leaving early to go anywhere) waiting for my appointment (which, by the way, was still an hour away), and a parade of soon-to-be-mamas walked in the door.  They lowered themselves with great difficulty into their seats, and rested their hands on their oh-so-large baby bellies.

And there I sat.  The pink elephant in the room.

Not only do I stand out already, but here I am surrounded by rotund glowing women.  Add the fact that standing up and sitting down is also difficult for me (and the fact that my doctor told me I needed to lose 30 kilos), and you have yourself one embarrassed american…

My friend says she always remembers the word for pregnant because it sounds like embarrassing.  Why, yes, it does.  Thank you for the mnemonic device for remembering embarazada.  I’ve since learned that prenada (for animals), cargada (like cargo), and esperanda (waiting)  all mean the same thing.  Four things I am not.

Watermelon Yellin’

Uuuuuggghhh! Aaaarrrrggghh! I just don’t want you to miss out on the fun here. That is what I do every couple minutes as my muscles spasm in my side. Victor is sounding like Mom, as every-time I yell in pain he says, “I don’t want you to hurt!” “I don’t like seeing you like this.” The only thing missing is, “I wish it was me and not you.” I don’t wish this on my worst enemy–much less anyone I love.

I felt kinda bad when he told me that while walking to the hospital a mango fell and hit him on the head. I felt bad because I laughed. Then I moaned because it hurts when I laugh.

I did take the time between yells to get a photo of this… Watermelon in April?! Yes, please! It’s so delicious and sweet! He started to cut my piece again, and I said, “No, I’ll eat all of that…”


Why A Mexican Man Is A Good Accessary Part Two: The Hospital

Because when you cry from kidney pain, he pets you and says, “I am sorry.”

Because when the pain doesn’t go away, he tells you that you need a doctor.

Because when you’re stubborn, and ask to move your entire bed downstairs, he doesn’t complain.  He helps you down to the couch, and lays on the floor without complaining.

Because when you continue to cry, and your knees become so painful, he tells you that you need to go to the hospital.

When you need help dressing and putting on your shoes, he doesn’t say a word.  He just helps you out.  Even when you don’t want to wear what he brings you, and you demand something else.

Because he will help you out the door and into a cab.  He will tell the cab driver to drive carefully everytime you cry out in pain over the bumps.

When you get to the hospital, he will help you into the emergency room telling everyone in sight, “This is an emergency!  Where do we go for an emergency!?”

When  you are misdirected, because, after all, these are Mexicans you’re dealing with, he will become frustrated.  When doctors try to brush you off, he demands that someone sees you.  You will feel bad, because sick people are everywhere–even lining the hallways.

When the jerk doctor tells you that he wants to x-ray your knees, he says, “No.  The problem isn’t her knees, It’s her kidneys!”  You will have to convince him that, yes, you do want a blood test.  He will only listen after he talks to another doctor.

He will demand again and again a wheelchair, because you can’t hardly walk.

He will hold your hand while you give your blood.  He will hold the trash can when you think you will throw up.  He will stand by your side for hours, because there aren’t any chairs.  He will even cheer up the Mexican women all around you who are sick (Women love him).

He will take you to the bathroom when you need to go, because the nurses don’t help with that sort of thing.  He will help with everything including the urine sample.  He will just tease you to make the whole situation seem light.

He will stick with you to translate all the Spanish questions people ask.  When they want to know how to spell your name, he will pull out your Mexican Visa and hand it over.  When they try to kick him out, he will tell them he has to stay will you because you don’t speak Spanish.

When it is time to leave, he will listen intently to the doctor.  He will help you walk down the way to the taxi, because Mexican hospitals don’t subscribe to wheeling patients out.

He will get you settled, then he will go to the pharmacy to buy all your medicine.  He will buy extra pillows so that you can prop your knee up.

He will then research online the ailments the doctor said you suffered from.  He will give you factoids about kidney infections and kidney stones (even though you only have dust).

He will bring you a glass of water, and when you break it accidentally, he will tell you that you aren’t allowed to get up because of the glass.

Oh, There You Are!


Victor eating Planter’s Honey Roasted Peanuts.

Remember when I said I needed cocoa powder? I have asked every baker in a twenty mile radius. Okay, that is a lie. I have asked a ton of people though. I always get the same answers. They tell me all about cocoa that you make hot chocolate with. I tell them, “No, cocoa sin azucar (without sugar).” They look at me like I am crazy. Why, after all, would you want something without a ton of sugar? They suggest the market.

Today, I had to head to the pharmacy. My stupid kidney is really not wanting to be my friend. I am waiting for the pain to go away, but that hasn’t happened yet. Luckily, securing another week’s worth of antibiotics wasn’t too difficult. I am also taking this pain medicine. It hasn’t been the miracle I was hoping for. So, now hugs have to be gentle, AND I walk like an old lady! Wow! How lucky you are, dear.

Since paying the water bill was also on the list of must-dos I decided to shop at the nice grocery store. Why didn’t I think of looking in an international section before? You know what they have? So many great things (that really don’t say American Food to me). I didn’t buy the Briann’s Strawberry Vinegrette that I really wanted. I have salad dressing I need to use up already. I didn’t buy the ginger paste from the Thai section. I didn’t buy the sriracha sauce either. I have some delicious habanero sauce I need to use.

I did, however, buy the following items:


I’ve been having a fit trying to figure out something about the flour. Is it self rising? Do I need leaven? I about cried out with joy when I found baking powder I recognize. One lady told me that is what you use when you’re sick–not for bread. It helps heartburn. Okay, lady. Thanks. I’ll be making some biscuits and gravy Saturday in case you’d like to join… Tonight’s menu includes cornbread and pinto beans. Yum!

I’m Back! (Says My Infection…And Me)

I have really been through the ringer this Spring Break.  To make matters worse, when I returned to Mexico, it was to a new home.  I know you’re thinking, “Well, that doesn’t seem bad!  You wanted a new home!” True.  My mexican boyfriend was sweet enough to move all of my stuff while I was gone.  He was also sweet enough to leave things in random places so that I could decide where to put them (Thanks, dear).

In all seriousness, it was rather nice.  I have come home to a new place that is mine.  No roommate.  No frustration because someone isn’t doing their part.  No “sharing” my food (A.K.A.  Finding out it is missing when I go to eat it…)  I slept last night under a cover because my room was actually cold.  I have an air conditioner!

Because of this freak kidney infection that I developed.  I was, however, unable to see my friends at the end of the week.  I was looking forward to a movie date… It turned out to be almost a blessing, as I was forced to stay home and rest!  Rest I did.  I couldn’t do much else!

Unfortunately, today I awoke with an all too familiar pain in my back/side.  It had eased up this weekend, but today it got worse as the day went on.  In addition to the back pain, my body seems to be retaining fluid.  My knee is inflamed and swollen (I have it propped up, Mom.), and I struggled to walk when I left school.   I am so lucky to have caring people at work.  Between some counseling and some complaining, I (with help) formed a plan.  My assistant principal contacted her doctor (whom she raves about) via her Blackberry.  With a bit of sharing questions/answers, he “prescribed” a stronger antibiotic for me to take.  He also assured that it would begin working today, and that I could contact him if I had more complications!  All of that for the low, low price of free!

The meds ended up costing a hefty 310 pesos!  I can totally tell a difference (Mom), and I think I will be okay (Mom).  Don’t worry (Mom).  I am downing coco water and regular water, and I just made some tea (Mom).  I have camped out on the couch, and I am resting (Mom).

The organzing and cleaning of the house can wait until another day…