Argentine Dreams

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2012-02-07T08:44:00.000-08:00

2011 was not a banner year for the blog. Sometime last March I lost the ump. I never really had the time, I just made it work between tantrums, feedings and not getting enough rest.

We are still here in Buenos Aires, living and working, raising our two daughters and making a life in a still quite foreign land. Why we continue...that's up for discussion all the time. Argentina is no longer a cheap place to live. I can't afford to shop for clothes, buy toys for the girls or eat out much. We have been priced out of the real estate market for the size apartment we would need. Our landlord recently told us that when our lease runs out in October, she will try to sell this 3 bedroom flat for a staggering $725,000 - yes, that's in dollars not pesos. And don't forget there are no mortgages here. To buy you must pay 100% in cash. Where is all that money coming from? How do argentines afford life? another mystery. The soy farmers have and continue to do quite well. Anyone with land in this country is rich rich rich. We went to the ranch of an expat mom friend and her argentine husbands last weekend. Her in laws grow soy and corn, run a private equity firm and several dry cleaning businesses. I guess someone in their family will be able to buy our apartment or something like it.

Next month marks our 5th year of living in Argentina. I turn 40 in August. It's been two years since I set foot in the US or outside this country. I am itching to travel again. In October I'll go to Northern India for two weeks with my good friend Jen. Hugh will take care of the girls along with our saintly live in helper Aurelia.

I've started giving away their clothes and toys to needy new moms. Yes, its official, this uterus is closed for business. There is a not so small part of him that grieves for his shattered dream of 4 little girls all trailing after him in a chorus of daddy daddy but I share no such fantasy. I'm still as shocked as the rest that parenthood factored into my life at all. Valentina is at a glorious age - enter the "whys". Why did I come first and not Maxima? Because you two talked it over in the sky and decided that you wanted to be the big sister and she wanted to be the little sister so would wait and come later. Why don't we eat on the floor like dogs? Why doesn't Aurelia speak English? Why can't grandma take a train to visit us? Wonder Wonder Wonder. It's mostly wonderful these rich conversations but I do dread the inevitable "why don't you have a papa?" Please give me a few more years to prepare for that one!

Utta is as usual asleep on the couch snoring up a storm. She's survived two operations in the last year or so to remove cancerous tumors. When they return (we've been assured its just a matter of time), we'll probably not put her under again as its a real stress for a bulldog to undergo anesthesia and the recovery. Also, she has some sort of degenerative spinal condition. She's not in pain but we have to be careful about her jumping up and down off the sofa. Fortunately, her quality of life is still great. She's surrounded by people all day, and thanks to Maxima's horrid table manners, laps up all kinds of goodies from the floor during mealtimes.

yin/yang

2011-02-25T16:39:00.000-08:00

I just love this photo.

because it juxtaposes so perfectly the yin/yang that is infancy and adulthood. Maxima is newly born (6 months) and so fresh, so alive, happy and frankly ecstatic to be here on Earth - to be a part of our family and of the world. By the time she reaches her father's age (nearly 45, gulp) she'll likely be cynical, tired, weighed down by stresses and emotional baggage etc etc. When exactly does that happen? When does that smile turn to a frown?

I guess that's why we 'older' parents so adore our children. it's an escape from the mundane, the drama and firth of our daily lives. we get a peek of ecstacy and pure joy. it takes me hours of yoga practice to encounter pure joy. hours....about 6 or 7 years ago I left a yoga class in such a state of happiness I literally cried in the car the whole way home. that is/was the only time I've experienced that sensation and have been searching for it ever since. Maxima and Valentina feel that every day. That is why we become parents, why we love it - to witness that sensation of pleasure, of joy, of love, of happiness and if we're lucky to become it.

what else is there?

My grandmother Hazel and her toddler Lois (now known as my mom)

2011-02-05T07:49:00.000-08:00

Maxima 5 1/2 months

2011-02-05T07:47:00.001-08:00

The two faces of Eve

2011-02-05T07:41:00.000-08:00

Was it the wrong spoon for the yogurt? still tired? the wrong doll? what - you wanted to get up on the chair by yourself? ahhhhhhh, the twos

New Year

2011-02-02T07:58:00.000-08:00

Ok, it's February but with a 5 1/2 month old and a 27 month old, the year still feels pretty new to me. Usually we get our New Year's collages done on New Year's Day or by the end of that week. Well, we just finished ours last night.

For the first time in many years my collage has very few concrete "goals" - as in measurable things to check off the proverbial list. Last year there were many material such things - I was desperate for mobility (check, new car), more space (check, new bigger apartment) and of course a healthy pregnancy and birth (check check check!).

This year I have very few wants. My life feels so full and so rich that I just want to enjoy it and stay in the moment as much as I can. They say these years with little ones just fly by and I can see how. Here's what a typical day looks like:

7am - both babies wake. Hugh gets Valen and starts her breakfast routine while I get Maxima.
7:30ish Hugh and I have "couch time" for about 10-15 minutes. Its this great concept I read about in the Babywise parenting books where the mom and dad spend a few minutes each day talking and being together in the presence of their children but not paying them any attention. They get to learn that the whole world doesn't revolve around them and that mom/dad need to be with each other too. At first Valen hated it and would act out to get our attention for the whole 15 minutes. Hello terrible tantrums! but to me that just proved how necessary it was that she learn to play on her own for a bit.
8-:830 - Sister play time. Maxima can sit up now and reach for toy so Valen likes to sit next to her, explaining how each one is used or flits around with one of her dolls while Maxima observes. I have to stay very close as the occasional "too tight hug" is delivered. Here in Argentina they have a saying for it "amores que matan".

8:30ish - Maxima goes down for her morning nap. Will sleep for a good two hours or so. While she's napping Valen will spend some time in her room playing with her barbies. She often castigates them for not sitting up straight in their chair or they'll have a sing a long. We'll also eat breakfast and get her dressed and ready for preschool.

9:30 - papa walks Valen to her preschool - 3 blocks away Risas de la Tierra. Its summertime so its technically "summer camp". Its two hours in the morning with lots of water play to stay cool, singing, dancing and art projects. She's well worn out afterwards. While she's at summer camp and Maxima is napping, I head to the gym for my one hour of mommytime. Thanks to Viviana our maid/nanny who stays at home with Maxima, I can do this every day during the week.

11 - Return home, shower, play with Maxima and then head off to pick Valen up from summer camp. This week I started bringing Maxima with me. She loves seeing the other children and Valen has been a good sport about sharing this time with her sister.

12:15ish - return home and put Valen down for her one nap of the day. Then put Maxima down for her 2nd nap. Somehow their schedules have collided to provide about an hour each day where both are asleep and the house is quiet. I am just recently using that time to run errands outside of the house, return emails and phone calls. For a long time I would nap too.

2pm - Lunchtime with Valen. She eats in a big chair now so am saving the highchair for when Maxima starts solids in a few weeks
3-4 - More sister playtime

4-6 - In the afternoons Valen goes either to the neighborhood playground or I'll take her to a playgroup. Depending on Maxima's nap, I will sometimes meet Valen and Vivi at the playground with Maxima and/or take them both to the playgroup. Some days I'll take Valen and leave Maxima at home with Vivi to get another good nap in before dinnertime. The playgroup we attend is comprised of english speaking moms (from the US, Canada, S Africa and Australia) raising bicultural, bilingual children. Most of them are married to Argentines but not all.

6-6:30 - Hugh gets home from work and has more time with the girls. They play "corre corre/chase" all over the house. Utta joins in too also Valen usually screams "no more Utta!" so that she can get time alone with her papa.
6:30 - I give Maxima her bath, bottle and put her down for the night. She sleeps a glorious uninterrupted 12 hours! While I do her routine, Vivi and Hugh (if he's not on a work call) do dinner with Valen.
7-8 - Books with Valen. We are trying to read to her together now and get her calmed down for the night. At 7:30 I do her bath and then papa puts her to bed. They sing "Julia" from the Beatles and she knows every word. She sleeps a glorious 11 hours!

8-10:30sh - mama and papa time!!! Since Viviana lives with us during the week, we can go out in the evenings. We try to go out at least twice a week to dinner or a movie or just to take a walk and get an ice cream. Life is good

fresh start

2010-10-22T08:10:00.000-07:00

every time i move its a chance to start over. i think 'this time i'll be really organized'. i throw out old clothes or pants too tight i hope one day i'll fit into again. yesterday i gave our maid vivi two big bags of clothes to share amongst her 9 children. it was time to say good-bye to the 'cupcakes make people happy' tee from Magnolia Cupcakes that i bought on our 5 year anniversary vacation to NYC. i've decided that as i head towards the big 4-0, there are certain clothing items no longer appropriate - anything 'mini' - skirts, t-shirts, t-shirts with slogans are out, skinny jeans, etc. well, the list is in progress. shoes count too. converse high tops - out (ok, i never had any but many women here on the wrong side of 35 wear them).

hugh is on board with this idea and we've decided to at long last - adultify our home furnishings. our goal with the move is to have a home we can feel comfortable inviting friends and the president of any major company over for a drink. that means getting a new couch for the living room that utta is not allowed to sleep, drool, vomit, pee and smear eye goo on. the old couch will be cleaned and put in the new 'playroom'. we will finally invest in bedside tables and put the plastic set of drawers in the laundry room to house junk. the rugs will be professional cleaned, papers will be organized into tidy file folders and keys will reside in the key basket. i hope it lasts awhile. its so hard to stay clutter free with a toddler that roams room to room grabbing things and putting them somewhere else.

so our new apartment is bigger - almost twice the size of our current place. also we'll have what they call 'palier privado' - meaning only one apartment per floor so we don't have to share the elevator hall with any neighbors. i expect this to make a huge difference with managing utta's barking episodes (that wake up sleeping babies). here, utta barks every time someone stops at our floor alerting us of the potential intruder. she's become more and more protective (read: barky) with each move, with each new family member. some days it seems i spend every 15 minutes telling utta to shush. this new apartment should eleviate some of that. we'll also be a block and a half from valentina's preschool.

for me the hardest part of becoming a mother was the loss of personal space. some days i long for a tiny room of my own i can just go into for 5 minutes and close to the door to all the demands. well, i'm sure i'm not alone in that fantasy. moving won't get me that room just yet, but it will bring me a step closer. our plan is to have the girls share a room - at what point will depend on maxima's sleeping habits and my effort to force the issue. right now i can't imagine it as valen chats to herself - singing, having imaginary conversations with her babydolls and stuffed animals up to a half hour or so before drifting off to slumberland. maxima still cries for a minute or two while settling in for the night.

our neighbor carmen from the 8th floor has two girls - lola 3yrs and carmen jr 14 months. they've slept in the same tiny room since carmen jr was 4 months old. but, this is also the mother who said 'children are like animals, they can be trained'. she is not a fan of attachment parenting as you can imagine. when her girls were newborns, she let them stay in poopy diapers so that they would 'learn' not to poop in the middle of the night. she said it worked after only one or two episodes. she also had them on a 3-4 hour feeding schedule from birth. they seem happy and well adjusted so it's hard to judge but her parenting philosophy is pretty extreme. she comes from family of 7 siblings in spain and wants a big brood too. she's already 4 months along with #3 and should have no trouble getting this new one to cooperate with their structured family life. one thing i've learned from my own trial and error is that every child has different needs and every family has to find what works for them. there is no cookie cutter way to do anything with kids.

school pictures

2010-09-11T06:58:00.001-07:00

valentina had her picture taken this week at her preschool program. we selected this new outfit - a gift from grandma lori when she visited last month. she is a girlie girl no doubt. loves her tutu's, trying on new outfits, gazing at herself in the mirror and baby dolls.

she adores her new sister and often hears her cry before i do when waking from a nap. i wonder when they will start to beat each other up as siblings do. in my case, i liked to punch my sister in the arm and back. she used her long fingernails to scratch me and pull my hair. there were some pretty gruesome battles. its a miracle we ended up so close as adults. we laugh about it now.

i took maxima for her one month check up yesterday. she now weighs 4.25kilos or 9.3 pounds. she's gained weight steadily since birth and weighs more than valentina did at this age. she's longer too, blond and generally peaceful. i feel the same bond and love for her as i did with her sister - no effort, its just there.

i practiced yoga twice this week for the first time since the birth. it felt so good to move my body but it was a terse reminder that i have a long recovery to go before a return to a 90 minute ashtanga practice. my ego wants to squeeze back into my pre-pregnancy pants but i know its rushing it. breastfeeding is going well but it certainly sparks the appetite.

i keep thinking of something my friend jenny said to me shortly after valen's birth when i was struggling with breastfeeding - that 'the best mom is a happy mom'. i know it to be true now and am trying to find that balance without the guilt. as a yoga teacher from san francisco who had two beautiful homebirths, one might assume i would also advocate the attachment parenting model - nursing on demand, co-sleeping, wearing your baby etc. i do see the value in each of those practices but for me, with this child, it's not happening. a few days ago i started maxima on a routine of nursing, wake time and sleeping that has had a profoundly positive impact on her and the rest of the family. it works for us and for me. i am a happier mom and a better mom with the predictability of her cycles and more rest. she is sleeping a bit longer at night too - 3 1/2 hours at a stretch sometimes.

postpartum news

2010-09-02T08:57:00.000-07:00

wow - how did two months pass without a post? well, the final month of pregnancy and the first 3 weeks with a newborn and 21 month old are i guess reason enough.

lots of friends and fam are asking 'how are you?' 'how are the girls?' my husband asked me recently 'is it easier this time around?' for him, it was a simple yes or no answer but of course its not. some things are easier like knowing how to handle a dirty diaper, crying infant and all of the little things that go along with caring for a newborn. we've been there done that so the stress of not knowing isn't an issue like it was with valentina. harder - finding the energy and time to give to valentina when maxima isn't nursing, crying or sleeping. dealing with daily tantrums as she adjusts to a world where she isn't the center of it and where mama can't hold her exactly when she wants. it's been heartbreaking but i know its a necessary break. valen has developed a sweeter bond with her 'papa' who now does her nightly bath and bedtime routine.

i am too vain to post a photo of myself today. so, imagine it. my eyes bloodshot red from very little sleep (maxima nurses every two hours at night), nursing tank top stained with breastmilk on one side and infant spit up on the other side. yoga pants and slippers on - my uniform the last 3 weeks. showered - its my one new mom indulgence, though it feels more like a necessity with the night sweats i endure from hormones flowing out of every pore. on the positive side i gained 10 fewer pounds with this pregnancy so getting back to pre-baby body doesn't seem that far off. i've already shed about 20 pounds.

the days fly by in a blur of nursing, soothing, sleeping cylcles. i am trying to get out of the house once a day - usually to pick valen up from her preschool program and walk home. that little bit of air is keeping me sane. i am breastfeeding exclusively and it is going well so far. a few hiccups in the beginning but this time around production has not been an issue and maxima latched on right away. because she is well fed and/or due to a calmer temperment, she doesn't keep me up all night crying. she nurses, burps, poops and usually returns to sleep for another two hours. everyone said that nursing would be easier this time and 'they' were right.

maxima is different than her sister. although her personality has yet to reveal itself, i can already tell she is more mellow. with valen we spent nearly every night the first 3 months rocking/bouncing/shushing/jiggling her to a calm state of mind and sometimes sleep. we were exhausted and i cried so much from sleep deprivation. i am not exactly well rested now but a few hours of sleep at a time, a few times a night is a huge difference. after a thermos of mate in the morning, i can actually feel normal and refrain from bitchy stares for awhile. this is progress.

valentina is adjusting, albeit slowly. the morning after maxima was born and valen met her for the first time, she leaned down from her father's arms to give her sister a hug and unprompted said 'i love you'. it doesn't get sweeter than that. she enjoys helping with baby care so i always include her in the diaper changing event. she hands me the diaper and the cotton for cleaning. then she throws the diaper in the diaper genie. she changes the diaper on her baby dolls now and imitates me soothing her sister - rocking them gently against her shoulder cooing 'it's ok, it's ok'. this is a wonderful age for us to witness. valen is full of fantasy play now. she play bakes banana cake and broccoli soup (two of her fav foods), reads books to her baby dolls, dresses and undresses her barbies, sweeps the floor with her mini broom and calls her friends on the phone. she's speaking mostly spanish but has about 300 words in english too. often she mixes them together as we do 'dame la broom'.

hugh started a great new job as general counsel for an sf based company the week maxima was born. we are lucky to have viviana - our housekeeper/nanny/right hand to help out. i told her she'd get a 50 peso bonus if she could get maxima to accept a pacifier this week. she had it on the second day. i know she's learned a thing or two from the nine children she's reared so we are in good hands.

our first car

2010-06-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

Friday I picked up our first car here in argentina. its the chevy zafira - not available in the states but very popular here and all over europe. actually most american families would probably find it too small for a minivan but for us, its enormous. we've managed just fine via public transit and taxi's for 3+ years but with the 2nd baby on the way and a hell of a lot more stuff to lug around, it was time to get mobile again. buying a car here is not easy. i had to remind myself many times over the past month why we live here, why we stay - its not because of the ease of doing business, no that's not it. in the us you can walk into any dealership and drive away with a car that day. the guy checks your credit online, a quick call maybe and you've financed for 3 or 5 years the locomotive of your choice. there's no financing here - for cars or homes which makes buying them much more complicated. we had to transfer money into the country 3 different times, navigating the banking systems of both sides over two weeks. multiple documents signed all in spanish, none of which i understood. frustration, resignation and more frustration. finally the process inched forward. i could barely believe it when i sat behind the wheel for the first time. its also the first time either of us has owned a brand new car. i always bought used in the us and its so easy to buy and sell via craigslist these days. no way was i going to delve into the used car market in a 3rd world country. i just imagined myself broken down on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with valen in the back seat crying, me 8 months pregnant and emotional and no idea how to get help. no thanks. the new car with all the warranties, roadside service and a few less mechanical issues at this point in the game is key. in a few weeks we will take our first roadtrip with baby, dog and gear in tow to our favorite estancia la candelaria.

bicentennial

2010-05-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

tomorrow marks argentina's bicentennial - 25 de mayo. since it fell on tuesday this year, they also made today a national holiday. since friday the city has been a ghost town as most locals are taking advantage of a long weekend by getting out of town. those who've stayed are lining 9 de julio avenue where parades, concerts, speeches and all kind of patriotic fanfare is happening. we are holed up here in our cozy apartment enjoying the slower pace of the city. yesterday it stormed for hours and i pitied the poor souls stuck downtown to watch a parade or get a cab back home in the thunder and rain.

the days wiz by faster and faster as my due date approaches - august 5th. in between going to preschool with valen (she's still not adjusted to being on her own yet), going to prenatal yoga classes, attending an instructor course in yoga therapy, writing and going to my thursdaysatthree writers group, i've been looking at apartments for us to buy and going to car dealerships. with one kid, we managed to squeak by maintaining a fairly low profile lifestyle with minimal stuff. with two, its just a different ballgame. so, we are getting a car - a minivan that is popular here and in europe but not available in the us called a chevy zafira. we're also looking to move to a bigger apartment - one with 3 bedrooms, a maids quarters and of course a parking spot. i'd like to have another homebirth so of course tied into all this househunting is a ticking clock inside me screaming "where is my baby going to be born!". yes, its the nesting period and this pregnant mom would like to have everything in order but who knows when.

last week was Semana Mundial de Partos Respetados. the direct translation doesn't make a lot of sense but its essentially the international week to recognize a birthing process that is respectful and natural. my ob is always involved in the events and workshops as he is a very outspoken and experienced natural birth expert. the local news channel telefe came to the yoga center where i take classes to film us preggos in action. after the class they interviewed us for a special program. to my surprise, they chose me and one other woman (out of 6) during the editing process. i wasn't sure when the program would air so didn't get to see it live but the following day the guy who run our local vegetable stand told me he saw me on tv and that i was famous. i've since been told by several people they saw the segment. its in spanish of course so for anyone that wants to test their bilingual skills, you can see the full program at this site: http://tobinatal.com.ar/humanizacion/smar2010.html first is the interview with my ob dr. lodeiro, then an interview with the owner of the yoga center and last is the interview with me. in the background of the first two interviews you may catch a glimpse of me or my big belly lollying about on a ball - i'm in black yoga pants and a white tank.

Back

2010-03-28T16:42:00.000-07:00

We returned from our trip to the US about a week and a half ago. Actually it was March 17th - the exact day that three years ago I left SF and a whole different life to come to Argentina. Since our return I've been reflecting on what I left behind and what I miss most.

The trip was hard though no harder than expected. Valen was her usual energetic self - going nonstop all day but in different less baby friendly places where I needed to watch her every second and often hold her. She was clingy and sometimes nervous around strangers (including family members she'd met at 5 months old) so my arms got an extra workout.

The week in Dallas was fairly serene and Valen enjoyed the routine at Grandma Vincelee's who she quickly started calling "Mamita" as do all the grand and great grandchildren. She fell in love with Mamita's mutt "Paco" and never tired of chasing him around the house. She also spent countless mornings searching the house for meow meows - the two of which wisely never revealed their hiding places.

San Francisco was much more hectic. We had lots of friends to see, family flying up from LA and San Diego and trips across the bay bridge to visit my sister and nephew Anthony. The first few days in SF we made no plans and tried to just settle in to a routine at our friends the Fuchs. They live in the inner sunset just two blocks from Golden Gate park and one block from a long stretch of cute shops and restaurants. I'd missed just strolling around from our week in Dallas (where they don't have sidewalks and everything is designed for you to motor from strip mall to strip mall in an SUV) and immediately set off to wander the park. That Saturday was my nephew's baptism - the big family event of the trip. My mom had flown in from San Diego that morning, my aunt Sea Jai and Uncle Jon, cousins Elan and Aja came from Marin and all of Rey's side of the family was there too.

The family was waiting just outside the chapel for the ceremony to begin. Everyone was greeting each other and making small talk. We arrived and all heads turned. I set Valen down on the ground and she fearlessly walked up to people saying "hola hola". I saw my sister a few yards away holding her baby who I'd never met looking over at Valentina, my daughter of 16 months who she'd never met and the tears just rained down my face. My mom saw me break and rushed over to hug me and pat my back- "its all right" she whispered. It wasn't all right. It was overwhelming and an emotional knockout. This is what we'd left behind when we moved to and stayed in Argentina. These are my people, my family, my roots and in that moment I felt the distance like never before. Seeing Valentina again for my mom was like meeting her for the first time - the last time she visited, Valen was 7 months old and not even crawling yet. Now she was walking, laughing, talking and had a discernible personality. It hurt too much still to approach my sister who I missed desperately and couldn't believe she was now a mom too. The last time I'd seen her she was not even trying to get pregnant yet.

The ceremony was a blur. I tried to pull it together but new tears flowed every time the old set dried up. Hugh was baffled and genuinely worried. "what's WRONG??? he asked". It wasn't something I could explain. "nothing, I'm having a pregnancy moment". How could I tell him in a sound bite that I should have known my nephew Anthony. That I should have held him, cared for him, and known his habits. I should have seen my sister pregnant and dropped Valen at their place for a playdate many times over. That my mom should have known her granddaughter better, that my aunt and uncle should have had us over for dinner or visited when she was an infant. These are the things we gave up. In my day to day I don't think about it much but in that moment it was impossible to ignore.

The rest of the trip whizzed by. We saw oodles of friends, ate lots of asian food and organic fair trade eco friendly fare and shared early mornings and evenings with the Fuchs family. Their daughters Abby and Audrey taught Valen to sit at the piano with them and pound the keys. Their son Will showed her many wizardly card tricks. Everyone received besos multiple times a day and their Golden Retriever "Buddy" became her new "Paco".

Still, it feels so good to be home. Yes, Buenos Aires is home. I'm glad to be back to balmy weather and our simpler life. I missed our parks, the small playground where I take Valen every day, and our friends Carolina and Pablo. I missed our small easy apartment where I can see Valen from any room and not have to worry about her falling down stairs or poking her eye out with a fireplace tool. I missed our maid Viviana who gives me breaks from childcare to shower, run an errand or practice yoga. I missed getting kissed on the cheek when saying hello to someone (even the doorman!) and my group of expat moms that meet every week to share life's little joys and let the kids run wild. I missed shopping for fresh veggies and fruit every day for the meal I'd prepare that night. I missed speaking spanish.

The wettest summer in history

2010-02-22T10:14:00.000-08:00

Today it pours, again. It doesn't rain like this in California where I grew up. The rain here comes in tropical storms. Neighbors can smell a storm coming within 20 minutes. After 3 years here I'm starting to notice it too. The wind picks up, the clouds loom in, its warm (at least 70-75 degrees) and the small shopkeepers peek their head out the doors peering up at the sky. It's about to start they think.

Last week within 4 days of each other, we were hit by pellets of rain that after just one hour, flooded whole neighborhoods, killed power in most of the city and halted all public transportation. Friday, the second time it happened I had to leave the house right in the middle of it to get money out of the ATM to pay our maid Viviana. (no, it would not be an option to pay her on Monday as she lives so hand to mouth with 9 children of her own and an unemployed husband that she needed the money to feed her brood over the weekend). I donned my knee high rubber boots and headed out. The water on the sidewalk in front of our apartment reached the top of my boots. I was one of the only fools on the street. On the corner of our street is a Cafe Martinez (the Buenos Aires Starbucks) where about ten trapped customers huddled in the back booths with their arms wrapped around their knees to keep their feet from getting drenched on the floor - then a river of rainwater with no where to drain. I slogged on, clinging to the buildings for support. The deepest flooding lasted only a block but it was nothing I'd ever experienced before. What happened to the drains? Apparently they were all clogged, again - for the second time in a week. The news showed a police rescue of a woman and child cross Santa Fe Avenue(just 4 blocks from our house) in a small rubber boat. As I stare out the window listening to the thunder, lightening and pounding rain I just know we are headed for the same.

Yesterday in the paper they cited this month as the rainiest February in Argentine history (well, since they started tracking 50 years ago). I guess we will not bemoan leaving a glorious summer here in the southern hemisphere when we board our flight for the States tomorrow night.

Summer this year, sucked.

The Day After

2010-01-21T16:07:00.000-08:00

A slightly bruised up nose but otherwise good as new. She's long forgotten while I tear up just thinking about it.

Worst day

2010-01-21T11:15:00.001-08:00

Most days are neither good nor bad, glorious nor horrific. Most days pass in a semi blur of routine and happenstance. Yesterday was hands down my worst day as a mom.

It made me think of other worst days of my life. When I was little (6ish maybe?) and we awoke in the middle of the night to a scary drunk guy kicking on our front door yelling obscenities. The worst of it was not this random dude threatening to break in but the look of complete terror on my mom's face as she held us close - single mom of two young girls. We huddled in the darkness of her bedroom in the back of the house as she phoned the police and tried to enlist their help ("sorry lady, we got real emergencies to deal with here"). I knew at that moment for the first time in my short life that my mom could not protect us - that she too was vulnerable and that my childhood would soon end.

The next most memorable involved my first broken heart. The day I found out my love, the first real one at 14 years old (he was 16, a popular school DJ and bad boy) had been cheating on me with my best friend - freckly, red headed cheerleader goodie two shoes lived across the street from me Julie. Classic betrayal. A young heart torn by the loss of boyfriend and best friend in the same cataclysmic instant. Many many many tears.

The most recent was the day I said goodbye to my dying friend Joni. The conversation we shared with a clear understanding that we would never see or talk to one another again paints grey a tiny part of my every day since.

So, yesterday. It started out as routine as any other. I took Valen with the umbrella stroller and Utta for a spin around the lake across the street. Multi-tasking as all moms do, Utta got a good morning workout and the baby entertained by the scenery, fresh air, and passerbys to shout out "Hola! Hola! Hola!".

We finished the loop and started the return for home. I stopped at the crosswalk waiting for the green light and white man walking sign. I'm always extra careful and nervous frankly crossing Libertador - either from our side or from the park back over. Its a double-wide busy street with cars zooming in both directions. People run red lights all the time and never look to the right to check if a pregnant mother with infant and a dog might be crossing.

The white walker blinked on and I lowered the strollers' front two wheels down from the high curb to the cobblestone below. (many parts of Buenos Aires are still paved in cobblestone - Libertador is not but for some reason on this stretch of the street, there is a 4 foot wide lane of cobblestone to cross before the asphalt begins) The stroller wheels stuck in the cobblestone for a split second and the rear of the stroller lifted up in the air a few inches. My hands were well position on the handles of the stroller but just at that moment Utta charged ahead to cross the street - ahead of us but attached to the left stroller handle via her leash. I tried to hold it down but the forward yank caught me offguard. Utta continued ahead taking the stroller handles with her as the baby (buckled in) catapulted forward face down in the asphalt. Just like in the movies- yes, "it all happened so fast".

I immediately tried to lift the stroller up off the street (at this point face down with my 15 month old inside) - at the same time I couldn't just unleash Utta as she would surely jet into the oncoming lanes of traffic. With all this swirling in my panic stricken mind, I tugged Utta's leash back with my left hand and tried to lift the stroller and baby with my right. Just at that moment, a car stopped and two young men jumped out to assist me. They helped me right the stroller and I immediately pulled a screaming and bloodied little baby into my arms. There was a lot of blood. It streamed out of her nose and seemed to come from her mouth too. Her face was dirty from street soot and she looked scared as hell. Blood smeared my shoulder and arms as I tried to wipe away and access her wounds. The assists asked me if I needed anything else, if I knew that Clinica Trinidad was just one block away. Shaken, I thanked them but said I could handle it from there. Obviously I couldn't handle it but they left anyway. Paula, the maid who brings baby Joaquin (born on the same day as Valentina) to our neighborhood playground everyday was standing on the other side of the street with Joaquin in her arms and witnessed the whole ordeal. She crossed over to us quickly and offered to help bring us home. I let her take the stroller back across Libertador while I carried Valen in one arm and led Utta with the other. When we arrived at the other side, Valen looked at her friend and said through teary eyes and bloody boogers "Hola Joaquin!" and then laid her head on my shoulder. I knew then that she would be ok but I just sobbed.

Hello 2010

2010-01-01T07:32:00.000-08:00

My friend Tara reminded me recently of an apt quote "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" for the close of 2009. I really did intend to make at least a few posts in December but obviously failed. I had plenty to write about. The completion of November's novel writing month - which produced 15,000 of my own words, a start but not the whole novel. Then my first "mommycation" a 5 day retreat to a lux hotel called the Llao Llao in Bariloche, Patagonia - alone. I used to take solo vacations every year to a hippy spa in the hills outside of Guadalajara called Rio Caliente. It was something I always looked forward to and went every year for nearly 7 years. I thought those days were long gone with the birth of Valentina but Hugh insisted. Yes, he deserves the Daddy of The Year Award and all my mommy friends were pea green with envy.

December passed quickly in a blur of end of year dinner parties. I brought Sour Chickpeas and chicken tandoori to more than one potluck event. Mostly, I endured nausea and tried to nap when Valen did. The news of baby number 2 took us by surprise but in a good way.

This year we'll visit family and friends in Dallas/San Francisco from late February through mid March. Then, come August, we'll welcome a Leo to the family and in November we'll celebrate 10 years of marriage. Whew, I better get another nap in....

Sag Paneer

2009-11-23T16:40:00.001-08:00

My fascination with India goes back some 10 years. Joni and I were in the same marketing group at Oracle. We befriended Sharmila - a beautiful ex-model from Bombay, then a Direct Marketing expert living in Fremont (the SF Bay Area's little India) with her arranged marriage hubbie. One of the memorable events of that period was Sharmila's baby shower. Joni and I were the only non-Indian women invited. The twenty or so others came donned in Oscar night caliber saris - rich hues of eggplant, fuscia, turquoise and canary yellow - golden embroidery lining every hem. Sharmila wore a sexy belly-baring hot pink sari with tiny rubies (yes, real ones) pasted across her forehead. Her lips painted red and a thousand bangle bracelets lined her delicate arm. Her friends wore their finest but she was clearly the star. We ate homemade Indian fare - more than 10 varieties of curry, naan bread and other things that tasted amazing but I'd never tried at any Indian restaurant in San Francisco. I felt like a complete toad in my Gap khakis and Ann Taylor blouse. As they encircled Sharmila and talked about their home country I imagined visiting one day with Joni.

In December I'll complete the first year of a three year teacher training program in Iyengar yoga. Part of the course has been a detailed study of yoga philosophy, hinduism, and Indian mythology. Before I became pregnant, I imagined visiting India at one of the many ashrams and of course making a stop in Bombay to visit Sharmila, who has since moved back, had another child and is making a successful career for herself in acting and commercials. I know the right time will come but it will not be this year or next.

For now, I'll continue my exploration of all things India until I get a taste of the real thing. My latest exploration has been of the culinary variety. In October I attended a four week intensive cooking course of Northern Indian food. It was a birthday gift from Hugh which turned out to be more of a gift for him. A long time expat named Juhi led the course from her own small kitchen. There were three of us foodies. Each week we learned how to prepare four dishes. After class we'd gorge ourselves on the leftovers and during the week I'd practice at home at least two of the four new recipes I learned.

In the first photo, I'm in class about to flip over a mung lentil and basmati rice pancake. The second shot is of my first at home effort - a meal of Vegetable Biryani, Spicy Eggplant with homemade yogurt and Carrot Raisin salad with mustard seeds and ginger. The last photo is of my daughter eating and enjoying extremely flavorful and in some cases quite spicy Indian food. My Uncle-in-Law Lee aka Ram Alexander who lives in Assisi Italy and spends three months a year in India says she must have been Indian in a past life. There you have it.

NaNoWriMO

2009-11-01T16:41:00.000-08:00

Today marks the kick off of National Novel Writing Month - (ck out www.nanowrimo.org) and my real return to writing. My writer's group Thursdays@3 decided to participate this year - meaning each of us will write a novel during the month of November with the support of each other and the org/website that hosts the event every year.

Junot Diaz would be proud of me. It's what he urged me to do - take on an unspeakably bold goal. For someone with no time or energy, writing a novel in a month is a preposterous idea and for that I'm smitten. I have nothing to lose except feeling in my hands when I reach the 50,000 typed word goal in a month.

Today I logged just over 1,800 words (they say about 1600 per day to reach the goal of 175 pages) most written during Valentina's first nap. The rest after I put her down for the night, poured a glass of Merlot and opened a Toblerone. There is no time for perfectionism, editing, overthinking the plot, idea or whether I'm capable. There's just writing every single day for a month on a single project and sticking with it.

Whatever comes out, it'll be worth the effort because I never thought I could.

Happy Halloween

2009-10-31T16:18:00.000-07:00

and Moooooo!!!

Valentina's 1st Birthday

2009-10-30T17:13:00.001-07:00

A homemade heart-shaped banana cake with pink-dyed whipped cream frosting and sprinkles.

A few hours with a few friends at our neighborhood playground.

A tantrum and then home.

Just another day with my now toddler.

Gone Baby Gone

2009-10-20T17:13:00.000-07:00

My monthly e-newsletter from babycenter.com says that the dividing line from baby to toddler is the one year mark or walking. Last week Valen took her first solo steps and next week will celebrate her first birthday. Its both exciting and sad to witness this passage. My baby is wobbling around upright, even more curious and excited to explore the world beyond momma's arms. I've been reflecting a lot lately on what this one year milestone means for me. I guess I should stop referring to myself as a "new mom" although most days I still feel like a rookie. The argentine custom for celebrating a one year old's birthday is to hold a pseudo-wedding with 100 or so guests, catering, music, live puppeteers and oodles of sugary snacks. We're opting out of that tradition. Instead, I've invited my friend Abril and Carolina along with their babes to a "party" at our small apartment. I bought a few heart shaped cake tins, some Winnie the Pooh paper plates and will play my best Betty Crocker for the afternoon. The next day we are going to a big Halloween gathering at the home of one of the expat moms from the English speaking playgroup. I'm not embarrassed to admit I spent two hours surfing Amazon.com for the perfect costume for Valen. My friend Wendy is bringing it down from the states this week. My friends from Schwab remember how crazed I got for Halloween dressing up. The fact that nobody dared relinquish their suits and perfectly coiffed hair on a workday in the financial district made it even more fun. I guess its fitting my girl arrived just in time to pair her birthday with my favorite frivolous holiday so I always have an excuse to don a wig, fake blood and/or fair wings.

On Sunday we celebrated Mother's Day (always the 3rd sunday in October in Argentina). Hugh surprised me on Saturday with a spa day and lunch with my best girlfriends Gaby and Judith. Sunday we went to lunch and the park with Valen and I got several gifts including a card of printed out best wishes from all the women on both sides of the family. If I were keeping a well organized baby book, the messages from my family would be the perfect bookend to this remarkable year.

Bikram in BA

2009-10-04T18:35:00.000-07:00

The first bikram studio in argentina opened recently near our apartment in Palermo. They have a newcomers promotion to get you hooked – one week of unlimited classes for 55 pesos ($12US) so last week I signed up. I needed a break, an early mother’s day present to myself (mothers day in argentina is the 3rd Sunday in October – this year October 18th).

New rosa came in to work last week and quit. She found another job that pays her more and has her working less hours per day. Also, she doesn’t have to clean, only cook and look after a 5 year old. I can’t say that I blame her but I do blame her. Valen just got used to her and was happy to see her when she arrived in the morning. Just stopped crying when I’d leave to go teach a class or run an errand. So, back to square one with the search. In the meantime, I’m taking 90 minutes a day (plus 15 minutes each way travel) for myself to sweat and stretch.

Bikram is a controversial figure in the yoga world. The more commercially successful he becomes, the less yogi-like. His brand, and it is a brand is like mcdonalds. You get the same big mac all over the world. My first class here was an eerie déjà vu experience. I practiced bikram in san Francisco for a few years when I lived in the mission neighborhood. But it’s been 4 or 5 years since my last class. Still, I remembered the poses and the instructor here used the exact, and I mean word for word, phrases as the instructors at the mission studio in san Francisco. You can really tell they all train together at the center in la and are given a script.

"Lean back, look back, all the way back, sit back, eyes back, one more breath, change…."

bikram yoga is yoga bootcamp. Maybe that’s why its so popular in the us. The instruction is directive, confident, commanding and no wimps allowed. The second class I attended here, a young blond expat was taking a class for the first time. She reached down to take a sip of her water bottle in between one of the allotted water breaks and the teacher barked “no drinking water now, wait until I indicate it’s time!” she cowered eyes staring at her towel on the floor. will be interesting to see if it catches on with the laissez faire attitude of the porteno locals.

Still, the physical benefits are undeniable. The toxins seep out of me and the hot room is a comfort. The barking cues from the taut instructors leave no time for the mind to wander – that is what yoga is about – giving the mind a rest from restlessness.

Sunday afternoon

2009-09-20T18:47:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow is the first day of Spring - Dia de la Primavera. Today nature gave us our first taste of sun and warm air. So, we went to lunch with our good friends Carolina and Pablo (they left baby Isabela with Abuela for a change) at a local parrilla for 5 different cuts of beef, a rucula salad and ice cream for dessert. Valen got her first taste of chocolate and for awhile I forgot that my sweet sister just gave birth to her first baby - a boy named Anthony Nicolas Serrano who we won't meet until March next year. We skyped this morning so I could "meet" him virtually (they're still at the hospital) and chat with my mom, Aunt Sea Jai and cousin Elan who had stopped by for a visit. Today I wish we hadn't left. boo hoo

Happiness

2009-09-20T07:22:00.001-07:00

Maureen Dowd posts an interesting column in the NY Times today about the declining state of happiness among US women. It got me wondering whether my girlfriends in the states seem happier now with kids or before (studies show we are happier pre-babies). Certainly moms complain a lot more than childless women though maybe its just topic based. My friends without kids kavetch about their bosses, stressful lives, not having enough money or the right relationship. My friends with kids all share a longing for more sleep and more time for themselves.

Last week I took Valen to the English speaking playgroup we attend a few times a month. I'd posted a request for a maid referral on the group site when we fired Rosa so a few of the moms wanted to know how the situation panned out. I explained that we'd received a great recommendation from a mom that recently moved back to the US and was trying to help her maid find a new permanent situation. Also named Rosa, she started last week and things are going well. I'd mentioned that the new Rosa is a better cook than the other. She's from Peru and likes to use fresh herbs and spices. Hello delicious ceviche. One of the moms (just moved to Argentina from NY a few months ago) looked at me with wide eyes and blurted:

She COOKS for you?
Yeah.
Like lunch AND dinner?
Usually, yes.
Then what do YOU do!!!!!??????

(This statement was loaded with so much vitriol and a mosh pit of other hateful sentiments (anger, resentment, envy, disgust, indignation, disbelief, disapproval) that it sucked the air out of me. Then I sputtered..

I take care of the baby...and I teach yoga!

I quickly realized my response was absurd mostly because I did not need to defend my life or priorities to some twit on the playground that demonizes moms with maids. So after a deep breath I followed up with:

Listen, this is why we live here.

Still I fumed about the exchange the rest of the day. Who is this person? Why are women so mean to each other? Why are moms in particular so damn critical? This is a woman who I've met on several occasions on group playdates. She seemed warm and down to earth for the most part. She'd chosen to give up a high paying career in NYC to be a stay at home mom but obviously she had her doubts. Was she happy? I don't know but she's not the only american mom I've heard from that seems to pride herself on doing it all herself - without any help. The martyr syndrome. As if any time for oneself while raising a child is pure evil. What - you hire someone else to vacuum your living room so that you can exercise!? What kind of mother are you? Fifty plus years since Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique and women still form their identities through housework and childrearing. No wonder we're so unhappy.

You're Fired!

2009-09-09T18:22:00.001-07:00

In my past life as a corporate wonk, I had the displeasure of firing and laying off more than a few employees. It's the worst part of being in charge. It's the dirty work, the heavy, the bleh. I never got used to it, enjoyed it or numbed myself to the prospect of telling another human being with feelings and expectations of themselves that they were OUT. Usually I fired for poor performance. By the time it came to the final conversation, I'd have months of paper trail to document absenteeism, inadequate reviews, conflicts with peers or an occasional drama. In California, you are an at- will employee but any HR person will tell you you better have good reason and evidence of it before firing someone or you'll(the company) get sued. In my early days as a team manager, a woman suffered a bad breakup and came to work semi-suicidal. Locked herself in the bathroom crying and upsetting everyone within shouting distance. I had to call the employer paid for psychiatric hotline for support on what to do. She didn't get fired for the mental break down but the subsequent performance problems sealed the deal.

I don't miss that part of the working world but even here in Argentina as a mom, yoga teacher and writer I am still someone's "boss". (other than Hugh's haha) Today my employee,our maid/Valen's nanny Rosa got the boot. It was just like all the other firings and layoffs - the serious and perfunctory delivery of the news, the paperwork, the payoff, the signature to assure no future suit, and lastly - tears and a huffy puffy exit. This time Hugh took care of it and I listened apprehensively in the other room with Valen. We agreed that he'd be in charge of getting rid of bad maids if I'd take care of finding new ones. I'm not sure which is harder but I'm glad the first part is over.

Birthday month

2009-08-25T17:21:00.000-07:00

My friend Megan sent a birthday message a few weeks ago and commented that I "look generally unplagued by the more pedestrian parental miseries". I guess that's because when in such a state, I'm not prone to take photos of myself nor blog much about it. Let me amend that practice right now. Valen started teething again the first of the month. Her molars are coming in and have been for 4 weeks now. What does this mean? It means she chews her fingers and anything else she can get her hands on during the day and has what Babycenter.com politely refers to as "wakeful irritability" at night. She wakes up two to three times a night and has for nearly a month, every night. Every night. Sometimes she just needs to be held and rocked. Sometimes she'll go back to sleep with a bottle. It's like having a newborn again and I am deep in the abyss of severe sleep deprivation. I'm cross and downright vile in the morning. (The photo is of my great great great grandmother Sarah Anne McNanny - we bear a striking resemblance pre-caffine jolt) Hugh and I have had some douzy exchanges on the occasion that there is no milk (my peeve) or sugar (his) for the coffee. I know it can't last forever but today all I see is a blur of fatigue. Other delightful teething related miseries include daily diarrhea explosions and earaches....yea!

Valen's molar debut also coincided with a significant ramp up in my teaching schedule. I started teaching 8 classes a week (two group and six private lessons) and now know first hand what it feels like to be a busy harried sleep deprived commuting working mom. I love the yoga but miss my baby and no longer find public transportation a quaint opportunity to peoplewatch. September I'll reduce my schedule back to 4 or 5 classes a week.

My birthday came and went with little fanfare. Another August 12th - this time I'm yikes 37 and I honest to god wanted a nap - just one long nap as my gift (I didn't get it - but I'll start Indian cooking lessons next month). I did manage a dinner out with girlfriends Judith and Gaby who are living la vida loca. Judith just got back from a month long trip to Europe where she had several affairs including a threesome. Gaby is dating three different younger men right now and in no rush to settle down. I started nodding off at the table around 11:30pm - frightfully early for this town. Talk about pedestrian....

Dia de los Ninos

2009-08-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

Today was Dia de los Ninos - an Argentine invented holiday almost as important (for kids) as their birthdays or Christmas. It's a gift giving occasion so we made like good Portenos and headed to "Cebra" aka ToyrUS yesterday to pick out a gift for our little one. We came home with this car like thingy that Valen can sit in and eventually mosey around the house.

Our friends Carolina/Pablo/baby Isabela and their mother Ana invited us to a special lunch at their apartment. It was hectic with both babies crawling around, fighting over who gets to hold the old Kleenex box and screeching while us adults attempted to converse and eat a delicious meal of Peceto a la Crema (sliced steak in cream sauce), french fries, homemade bread and flan for dessert. It was not a light meal but it hit the spot. After a quick hour and a half, we raced home to put Valen down for her nap. When she woke up we got the mate, thermos and Utta and went across the street to the park to join thousands of other families watch the sun set.

She stands

2009-08-03T17:43:00.001-07:00

Within a few days of crawling, she started pulling herself up to standing. She spends most of the day now zooming from one low piece of furniture to the next doing baby squats and developing her bi and triceps. Even bathtime has become just another opportunity to stand and try to climb around.

Our friend Rodrigo has two boys - Alvaro and Estanislau (very traditional Argentine names). Alvaro is 3 1/2 years old and "gifted". He is a voracious reader (especially when something is upside down!) and insists on adult explanations when told "no". To the passerby, he's a novelty and a delight. To his parents, he's a handful and they are already stressed about how to raise him and "cultivate his potential". The experts they've talked to want to put him into 2nd grade already. As for Valen, I am thrilled she is just a normal 9 month old. That I can look in my What to Expect The First Year book and generally see what's coming or what she's already up to.

Utta and the big C

2009-08-03T17:26:00.001-07:00

Like an attentive mamma gorilla, Hugh constantly inspects Utta, noticing a rash on the belly, a flea behind her ear, grime under the fold of her nose flap. A few months ago his investigations unearthed a marble like growth on the inside of her cheek. The vet said to keep an eye on it and let her know if it increased in size. Well, it did and another marble appeared on her right leg. About three weeks ago they told us it might be cancer and that she needed to have the both removed. Hugh took her on a myriad of vet visits, consulted with the bulldogger community back in SF and interviewed anesthesiologists. Apparently the protocol for delivering anesthesia to bulldogs has changed (in the US) and Argentina had yet to catch up.

Today at 1:30pm she went under and thank god came back to us. She is resting albeit uncomfortably with a plastic cone around her neck to keep the cheek stitches intact. There is a bandage around her leg but she can walk on it slowly. The surgeon said it went well and they got all the cancer. We can breathe again.

Why we stay

2009-07-19T06:25:00.001-07:00

When people ask why we came to Argentina I give the standard reply - great food, architecture, cosmopolitan city, beautiful language, very dog friendly and of course a favorable exchange rate. But, when asked why we're still here and plan to stay I think of our friends. Carolina and I met on the playground about 3 months ago. It was the typical mommy pick up. Both of us pushing our baby girls on the swings, last ones at the playground as the sun set. We got to talking and realized we lived just two blocks away from each other. A few more playdates and we settled into a routine of seeing each other nearly every day during the week after the girls woke up from their late afternoon naps and before bedtime (usually 6-8pm). We drink mate while the girls play on the floor or stroll around the neighborhood. Some days we go big box shopping at Jumbo or to a cafe. Our spouses met and now we also have an occasional Sunday family outing with the 6 of us.

Carolina, Pablo and their 15 month old Isabela live with her parents in a two bedroom apartment smaller than ours. Carolina sleeps in the second bedroom next to the crib and her husband sleeps on the coach in the living room. They're saving money to buy their own place later this year. This is a typical familial arrangement. Her father has Alzheimers and leaves the house for one short walk a day around the block during which time the rest of the family fears for his safety and wonders whether he'll be able to find his way home. They eat dinner together every night around 10:30pm. When the baby goes to sleep (midnight usually), they sit together and drink tea. Although they don't have cars, take extravagant vacations, use handheld electronic devices or "twitter" they are happy and enjoying life. Pablo is a mid level manager for a waste managent company. Carolina's mother is a psychologist. They never work weekends or at night. We stay for this.

On the move

2009-07-12T06:49:00.000-07:00

Baby V started crawling last week. She'd been scooting around on her bum and revving backwards for a few months but she is now locomoting around the house with a deft cross-hatch. Its made for more active days as she near crashes down onto the tile kitchen floor, reaches for electrical outlets and the dog's tail.

The second photo is one of my favorites. She's discovered her hand and is frequently caught gazing in amazement with a "wow-look at this thing attached to my arm that moves!" expression. It's one of the unexpected delights of witnessing the daily developments. Rather than amaze at the wonders of my body's little triumphs and abilities, I marvel at its rapid deterioration. First the back injury (which has for the most part healed but still moans when I try to jog), then the other morning I awoke with what can only be described as a "sleeping injury". That is waking up and having no idea why or how you became injured. This time it was my knee. I woke with a tenderness in the joint and a dull pain that lasted all day. Then, suddenly it vanished as if to warn me....take it easy or you'll see more of this! As my birthday nears and I continue the downhill slide towards 40, I hang on to the one activity that still heals and strengthens - yoga.

Swine Flu

2009-07-07T17:26:00.000-07:00

Anyone with a blog in Argentina has to address "the" news story of the season - El Gripe Porcina aka El Gripe H1N1 aka El Gripe A. Whatever the reference, its the flu. We're in our typical flu season - cold blustery days, arctic wind chill that slices through even the heaviest wool coat and a gray blanket over the city. About a month ago the panic over mosquito carrying Dengue Fever died down just in time for the swine flu to rev up. Then a few weeks ago it exploded. Suddenly everyone I knew, people on the street (taxi drivers and the butcher) and the newscasters were talking about it. Then I started hearing about people I knew personally that had it. Then Valentina came down with her first fever, cough and sore throat (turns out it was only a cold thank god).

Last week the government admitted they'd been lying (what a surprise, not! since they lie about everything else) about the numbers. Instead of the reported 6,000 cases - it was actually more than 100,000 infected. 60 dead. People are freaking out. The newspaper, TV and radio talk of nothing else. They've come at it from all angles; where to buy the most effective alcohol based hand gel, how to entertain your kids all day (since they've closed all schools for a month to limit contact), what to do if you work in a non-ventilated office with people that might bring it to work (wear a facemask, wash hands 10x day, don't touch your eyes, nose or mouth). Essentially they've recommended everyone stay home, avoid contact with others and don't panic. The more news coverage, the more people panic. I waiver between forgetting about it entirely and carrying about my day as usual and giving the guy in front of me in the grocery store who innocently coughs into his forearm a dirty "don't you dare infect me" look.

Here's what I know. All schools are closed for the month. The mommy groups I occasionally attend are on hiatus until this blows over. The movie theaters are only selling 50% of the seats (but who cares, no one is stupid enough to go). My closest girlfriend Carolina carries the alcohol gel in her purse wiping her daughter Isabela's hands (15 month old) every hour. A real estate agent and my doctor stopped kissing me hello (this is HUGE!). Traffic is horrible because they are trying to limit the number of people on the subway causing more panic and backups. Rosa couldn't get her root canal done yesterday because her insurer is postponing all dental work (too risky for the dentist) until the end of August.

Whew...I have a feeling that as the days grow longer and the sun brighter, the frenzy will shift back to a spring season pandemic but for now we are on high alert.

Doe a deer a female deer

2009-07-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

Valen had a great time getting to know Grandma Lori and Grandma Theresa (also Grandma Bari - my mom's best friend of 35+ years who came for the visit too). From Grandma Lori, she learned how to play the recorder. Every day my mom would arrive with recorder and playbook in hand like the pied piper. From Grandma Theresa she learned how to make delicious Lebanese food - Kebbe, Baba Ganoush, Grape Leaves, Salad with Mint Garlic dressing. There were play sessions on her purple rubber floor, strolls through the parks and zoo, and quiet evenings of conversation and Blokus after Valen went to sleep. The enduring memory of the trip for me will be the afternoon Lori, Bari and Theresa sang to Valen from their repetoire of show tunes - Frere AH Shaka, the entire soundtrack from the Sound of Music and Fiddler on the Roof - acapella.

Brokeback

2009-07-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

A few days at estancia La Candelaria was supposed to be a vacation, a break from the city and a chance to enjoy the country air with Baby V and the abuelas. Instead I ended the trip at Lobos (the nearest pueblo) emergency room.

The last time I visited La Candelaria was to host family and friends for Rachel and Rey’s wedding. A long weekend of friendly soccer matches, long walks along the grove of eucalyptus and fanciful meals with heartfelt toasts for the bride and groom. This trip had to be different but I had no idea how much so. The packing alone took half a day. Valentina of course had her own large duffle – in stuffed diapers, formula, outfits enough to last for 3 changes daily, blankets, toys, yoga mat to play on, pack n play crib, bathtime chair, bottles, jarred and dried food, special spoons and sippy cups, on and on. Utta also had her own bag – eating chair, dried food, bed, toys, chew bones. The last five minutes before we left, I threw a few pairs of jeans and sweaters for myself. We rented a car for us, the baby and the dog. We barely fit ourselves and our luggage (the stroller had to be shoved in with the abuelas). The abuelas traveled in a chauffered car aka “a remise”. The first conundrum upon arrival – where to set up the baby’s crib. At home she has her own room and we (parents, dog and child) have never ever shared sleeping quarters. How would the dog tolerate the intermittent sqwaks of sleeping V? How would V sleeping through the snoring or worse barking bulldog? How would we relax knowing that at any given second, both could wake the other and disturb the delicate balance? Our room had a main quarters and a side room with twin bed and a fireplace. You had to go through the small room to get to the main bedroom though at least there was a closeable door in between them. We decided to put the baby in the side room, I would sleep with her in the twin and Hugh would sleep with Utta in the main room (next to the bathroom). It wasn’t the brightest move but at the time it seemed best since the room with the fireplace was likely to remain toasty throughout the night and temperature was a main concern. Right before we started the baby nighttime routine, Hugh proudly piled on twenty or so pieces of wood into the fireplace, doused it with kerosene and then added his “secret sauce” a light blow of air into the fireplace aimed at the bottom of the stack. While I retired early with the baby, he left to play Blokus with the unstoppable abuelas. The fire roared on for hours. Until 1 or 2 in the morning it was so hot I was sweating and so was the baby. I had to cover the metal parts of the crib for fear she’d burn herself if she rolled and touched them in her sleep. I didn’t sleep until the fire died down and with it the temperature. Then I put a blanket on the baby and woke a few hours later with frostbite on my nose. The baby woke early too with her hands cold as ice. Not a restful start to the trip.

While the abuelas dozed until late morning – I woke at 5 or 6 am with the baby, gave her a bottle and tried to get her back to sleep for a bit longer. Usually only until 7 or 7:30. It was a new and foreign environment to her – different sounds and smells. She was edgy and excitable. I’d stumble (still in pj’s) to the shared dining hall carrying Valentina on one arm and pushing the stroller with the other (which I had to use as a high chair). The staff would always remark “que madrugada es ella!” basically “what a frightfully early riser she is” and offer a half smile of pity. The kitchen staff was helpful cleaning and sterilizing bottles and heating up baked pieces of sweet potato, once steaming a small piece of chicken breast but it wasn’t my kitchen and it wasn’t four feet from the bedroom. During the day Valen and I kept to our usual routine of morning play, nap, lunch, more play, nap, dinner, play, bath, bed. During play sessions the abuelas joined us in our makeshift romperroom on the yoga mat in front of the fire. For the hour or so mid day when the sun was strongest, we bundled up and took the toys out to the lawn. But no one could help with the hardest part – naps and sleepy time. Valen struggled with me at every turn. Each time we settled down to get her to nap (3 times a day) the effort took no less than 20 minutes and every ounce of energy (mental and physical) I had – especially after less than 3 hours sleep. She was not at home and knew it. The second night I swore off the fireplace room and moved us into the main room (which actually had a wall heater). We decided that Utta was too much of a risk so banished her to sleep with Abuela Theresa – really not a banishment at all since Theresa adores all living creatures and easily coaxed Utta into a spooning position the first night. Valen tossed, turned and woke up four times – crying to be held, soothed, given a bottle. I tried it all but it just seemed she was uncomfortable. The next day was not a pretty one for me. Two days without sleep – the beauty and serenity of a relaxing country resort but no way to enjoy it was worse than torture. The grandmas took pity after lunch and demanded we leave Valentina with them for a few hours – they would “handle it”. Utta trotted off after them realizing without pause that they needed more supervision with this task than we did. We took a short walk and played pool with a nice couple in for a day only on a 10 year anniversary trip from Miami. Adult talk for a half hour. They left their 6 and 8 year old girls with her parents for a week. It was their first vacation without the kids in 8 years. Bleak but I could see it for us too….

Valen wouldn’t nap – big surprise even though they tried putting her in the stroller, giving a bottle etc. Finally she collapsed on my mom’s shoulder and shrieked with the slightest movement so they had to stay for 30 minutes laying on a lounge chair with the baby slung over her shoulder until she woke up. When I went to find them (after an unsuccessful attempt at a nap – outside the wood cutter chopping the hundreds of logs for the coming frosty evening), Valen was asleep on abuela Theresa’s chest in her room. An exhausting effort on all parts. Bari looked stunned and scarred “she just wanted her momma and nothing would make her stop crying”.

The third and final day I woke up, fed and dressed the baby and decided I would do something for me – even for half an hour. Something that I wanted to do. Something that I always loved to do coming to La Candelaria in the past. I wanted to go horseback riding. Not just riding. I wanted to gallop. I wanted to become one with natures saddle, feel the wind whip my hair, touch the treetops with my outstretched arms, and suck as much fresh air as humanly possible. It was I thought a reasonable want.

At 9:30am I left Valen happy and in Hugh’s care, walked over to the stables and asked the stablehand to saddle up the horse that loved to gallop. I was explicit. With a cigarette flopping in the corner of his mouth, he saddled her up and helped me on. We started walking away from the stable and towards a row of trees. Ahhhhhh, this is what I’ve been waiting for I thought. I am on a horse, enjoying nature, doing what I used to be able to do pre-pregnancy and finally on vacation. A second or two passed after the thought and the horse suddenly bolted forward into a race-like gallop. True, I’d asked for a galloper but I assumed (falsely in this case) that I’d be the one to decide when and if we’d gallop. With the first thundering down of the horses front hooves, I felt a crunch of verterbra in my spine and a pinch of seering pain in my low back. Owwwww. Not good. I pulled back on the reins as hard as I could and the horse started slowly to trot, then walk. I breathed again and thought foolishly, Ok. That sucked, but…..maybe I can save this. We’ll just walk around the property. I’ll enjoy that even though something really really messed up just happened back there with my back. The pain disappeared for a few minutes as we walked around the lush lawns. We came to a clearing – a field of soft dry grass that again I foolishly assumed we could gently walk through. The horse stepped into the field and took off like a circus monkey darting left, right, straight ahead at lightning speed, galloping, running , trotting – everything but not walking. My back screaming in agony and I desperately tried first to control the horse (didn’t work – she owned me) and then just slow her the fuck down. Eventully after a near throw, bucking incident, she slowed to a walk and we headed gingerly back to the stable. I considered dismounting on the way there in case she tried for another gallop but opted to just bare it until we got to safety. I slithered meekly off my mount and went immediately to my mom’s room. I did something to my back. Falling onto the bed face down. The deeper more acute spasms set in. I couldn’t walk, put weight on my feet, bend. We called in the estancia manager and he asked if I could feel my legs – yes, was I seeing ok, yes. I asked if there was a chiropractor in Lobos (the nearest town) and he looked at me hesitantly before replying “I’ll see what I can do”. 10 minutes later the door opened and two paramedics wheeled me out in a stretcher and down the road 15 miles in an ambulencia. They took a few x-rays, gave me a shot of anti-inflammatory and sent me back to the estancia. “stay off your feet as much as possible and don’t bend over!” yeah, right.

Abuelas

2009-06-08T18:01:00.001-07:00

Friday my mom arrived with best friend Bari in tow. The last time Abuela Lori was here, Valentina was a mere 3 days old. Bari attended Rachel's wedding exactly one year ago. Both have been enjoying getting to know Valentina the 7 month old. Valentina still likes her momma best but seems to know that Grandma Lori is someone special. They are forming a nice bond and only a grandma would delight in watching her expressions change as much as I do. Well, until today when Valen's other grandma - Theresa arrived from San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Now both grandma's will pour love and attention on their first and only grandchild. Tomorrow we all head out to La Candelaria - our favorite estancia and site of Rachel and Rey's 2008 nuptials. We haven't been back since the wedding and I can't wait to gallop across the polo fields, eat hearty stews and asado and sit by the fire playing Blokus with the crew. Yes, that's Valentina looking sanguine holding her new favorite toy - an empty tissue box.

New baby pics

2009-05-15T17:33:00.000-07:00

New Jersey Nerd

2009-05-09T10:53:00.000-07:00

I hadn’t heard of Junot Diaz (winner of the Pulitzer for The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao, ’08 and Creative Writing prof at MIT) until a few months ago when my writers group started planning for our participation in this year’s Feria de Libros. Junot Diaz and Annie Proulx (author of Brokeback Mountain and The Shipping News) were the invited keynote speakers from the US. Several in our group had read his novel and all gushed at how brilliant it was. The rest of us borrowed copies and I dove in to his tale of a fat genius nerd from New Jersey, exploring his Dominican family roots during the dictatorship of El Trujillo.

As the book fair approached we decided to invite Junot to our celebratory asado. The party was the first gathering of our group with spouses included. Tara emailed him and received a “maybe” as he was flying in that day and might be pretty jet lagged. I never expected a celebrity (at least in the literary world) to make time for a group of complete strangers. Half hour after Hugh and I arrived, I got a tap on the shoulder. It was Tara introducing me to….Junot Diaz. He showed! Unbelievable really that he ventured unattended to a strangers bbq in a city he’d never been to. He admitted the invite was so “random”, he just had to check it out. When he found out we were a group of writers he was even more blown away. A small circle formed – each of us trying desperately not to hang on his every word but it was hard not to. He asked what type of writing we did. I admitted to short stories – and getting shorter with a 6 month old and so little time for myself anymore to write. This caught his attention and he insisted “Nah, that’s the opposite of what ya do. Yah gotta be “prepotente”. He speaks just as his character Oscar Wao – weaving in and out of gangsta Spanglish and academa-nerdom. We spent ten minutes debating the correct translation of “prepotente”. He landed on “pretentious” which somehow I knew was not quite right but no one else corrected him either. As with my own nonmastery of the Argentine tongue, I mostly get the gist of things even if the specific words pass me by. He meant that even though I might have 30 minutes or less a day to write – I should be bold, preposterously bold in my ambitions. Rather than writing flash fiction, I should take on a huge project – an unbelievable goal for someone with no time. He said even with 5 hours a day to write – you won’t spend all that time productive so with less time you can actually achieve more. His Pulitzer prize winning tome took 11 years to complete. He claimed his current novel in progress "sucks, really sucks".

Something about it made sense and left me wondering. Most of my activities pre-Valentina had shrunk or disappeared - my personal ambitions, muted. Now I’m reexamining that decision. He stayed for an hour and spread himself around, sampled the chori-pan and steak brochettes, raised his glass to a champagne toast.

The following night the US Embassy hosted a formal reception for Junot at the lavish Ambassadors residence (two doors down from our apartment). We attended and took a group photo together and chatted about the previous night like old pals. None of us had to say outloud - that these two exchanges were a hands down highlight of the year.

I love this photo. We took the first one all prim and smiley. Then Junot says "gimme your best gangstah face". Hah! We are not a gangsta-ready group. He was the only one that flashed what could have been a gang sign. The rest of us just looked like bad JC Penny catalog models.

What the Pork!

2009-04-28T18:33:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the scare tactics of mass media, swine flu is the latest "oh my god, did you hear...blah blah". Another reason to stay glued to the tube or in my case online news sites. Argentina has yet to confirm any cases but the folks here are concerned nonetheless. Our maid Rosa told me that there is a joke going around that the next big one will be called "Mosqui-cerdo" - a combo of the Swine Flu and Dengue Fever (which until last weekend dominated the front page of most South American newspapers). El Dengue is transmitted by mosquitos and cerdo means pork in spanish. Although my pediatrician claimed there were no cases of Dengue Fever yet in Buenos Aires, it's swept the northern provinces and much of Brazil. Because of the news, every mom I know lathers their child in insect repellent and covers the crib with a net (even though the Dengue carrying queeter only bites during the day). I've not succumbed yet to the panic but I find myself itching imaginary mosquito bites all day long.

Fotos of my 1st reading at the 09 BA Book Fair

2009-04-28T18:29:00.001-07:00

Oh yeah, I write

2009-04-26T07:22:00.001-07:00

Yesterday morning I awoke to the baby's cry at 3am. A typical start to the day. The morning passed in a blur feeding pureed apple mixed with plain yogurt, getting everyone dressed, dog walked, makeup applied. We ventured out with the stroller and carseat to visit friends Jane and Tim who live in a renovated house in Palermo Soho. It took us 3 tries to find a cab that would and could fit the stroller in their trunk. Jane and Tim brought an entire retail stores worth of inventory from Indonesia to BA when they moved here. Opened up shop six months ago and are now liquidating everything and instead going into the real estate biz. They are the only ones we know that moved here with their family like we did - selling everything and taking a big risk that life in a foreign country would work out. Their eldest daughter Laura is thriving. She's incredibly bright and got into the feeder Jr.High/High School for UBA (Univ of Buenos Aires - the best university in the country and free to residents). If she completes school there she won't even have to take the entrance exams to attend UBA. It's quite an accomplishment for a girl who didn't even speak spanish when they moved here two years ago.

We visited for an hour or so, then found a quick cafe to scarf down a steak sandwich while feeding the baby. She fell asleep in the car ride home and I had exactly five minutes to prepare her lunch (carrots, squash, egg yolk and Casan Creme - a cream cheesy product; rice cereal and banana her favorite), change clothes and dash down the street to the La Rural Conference Center. The annual book fair Feria de Libros started Thursday and 3pm was my first scheduled reading at the US Embassy booth. I arrived with two minutes to spare and no time for nerves. The crowd gathered and the set up was much better than last year with a partition between the walkway and the reading space, also a more professional mike. About 25 people sat and listened as I read the two stories published in our now annual Thursdays@3 anthology. This year my stories were short and deeply personal. As soon as I started reading, the hectic morning melted away and for fifteen minutes I was a writer, reader and individual again - not just a mom.

Playmates

2009-04-23T06:01:00.000-07:00

The expat mommies I befriended in prenatal yoga class last year reunited for Sunday brunch with babies and daddies. It was quite a scene with feedings, changings, crying, napping and playing at the outside table of the Evita Museum Cafe for two and a half hours. When the babies were a few months old we gathered weekly at a nearby park to share sleep deprivation horror stories and get out of our routines at home. It seemed at first a likely group to stay connected. but little by little we've drifted and it had been months since our last gathering. The swiss and italian couples are planning to move back to Europe in the next few months. The three aussie/argentine pairings are here now but trying to make a move to Australia. The spanish couple will be here for another year or so but then hope to go back to Spain. And the Argentine/English pair want to live here 3 months and in Australia the rest of the year. We are the only ones with a plan to stay in Argentina. Ultimately, I got tired of listening to how much better things were in their home countries and how they were looking forward to moving back. Although we shared an experience of being foreigners and becoming mothers in Argentina, we are on different paths. I stopped making the effort to meet at faraway parks and instead settled in to a afternoon excursion to a playground around the block. About a month ago, I met a lovely Argentine mom Carolina and her 1 year old Isabela. She lives just two blocks away and we have become quick friends. We meet to stroll with the girls, play at the park or run errands nearly every day. She has no plans to leave, is patient with my spanish (the other day she thought I said I would leave Valentina in her stroller alone in the lobby of her apt building while we went upstairs for a mate - I meant to say I'd just leave the stroller) and is for now the perfect companion.

Birthday boy

2009-04-23T05:45:00.000-07:00

Friday was Hugh's birthday. No one here believes he is in his 40's and he swears that since moving to Argentina he's turned back the clock at least 5 years due to less stress, better food and more exercise. I surprised him with a "Desayunos a Domicilio" - basket of breakfast goodies that a company delivers to your house early morning. It came with fresh baked medialunas and other pastries, coffee, teas, cookies, coffee mug, orange juice, milk, balloons and linens. We opened it in bed and Valentina dove fistfirst into the plastic wrapping and ribbons. That night we had Rosa stay late so we could go out for a date. Hugh put on a suit and I sported a fancy dress that hadn't seen the light of day for over a year. We dined at Sotto Voce, one of our favorite italian restaurants in fancy Recoleta. The food was delicious but we agreed that after so many years of living in San Francisco and eating out at least four nights a week, we don't miss it. For now I am just as content with a chicken breast milanesa and a salad at home.

Everyone an Einstein

2009-04-11T06:34:00.000-07:00

Every parent I know imagines their child some sort of Einstein. "did you see how he picks up a spoon all my himself?" "look, she touches the guitar like she can play a cord!", "he's already got a six-pack, will be a stud when he grows up for sure". The truth is most babies are average and below. Hugh and I always said we'd never pretend our child (if we ever had one) was some kind of genius or super talent. That we'd love to hear one of our friends say "you know what, my kid's pretty average - nothing special". So now we have the chance and I caught Hugh on more than one occasion exclaim "look, dude I can make her laugh when I make this face!" as if we figured out how to land on the moon. Her micro developments are a daily delight but is she the next Mozart, Einstein, Picasso....probably not. She's exploring the world with her mouth, one lick at a time, laughing a lot, and being a normal baby. For me, that's more than enough.

Friends, family and Marshalls

2009-04-02T07:28:00.000-07:00

The recent trip to Dallas reminded me of what we left behind when we moved to Argentina. We left friends like the Coughlins (Brendan, Bridget, with their boys Brendan Jr, Connor, and Dillon) who have two things we'll never have here - a gigantic house and parents that live around the block and stop by all the time for visits. We left family like Grandma Suzanne who makes some of the most entertaining baby noises I've ever heard. And we left discount shopping. Here Valentina took her first tour of Marshalls (we went three times in a week).

What I don't miss: having to drive everywhere, Starbucks coffee every morning (I've got Mate now) and fat butts (I'm sorry but there are a lot of fat people in the US).

Drying up

2009-03-27T19:47:00.000-07:00

Levadura de Cerveza (Brewer's Yeast)
Dark beer
Mate cocido
Mother's Milk tea
Lots of water
Less stress
More sleep
Reliveran drops
Pumping more
Nursing more
Eating well
Eating more than usual
No strenuous exercise
Skin to skin contact with baby

I've tried it all. More, less, this way, that. Everyone I meet has a cure or a new idea. Five months of disappointment, of struggle, of wishing and wanting it to be different. She got some breastmilk but in the end my jugs are more Kate Moss than Marilyn Monroe. Still she's a healthy, good-natured giggly girl. And as a new mom I'm finding there are plenty of other things to feel guilty about.

Another baby

2009-03-27T19:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, it looks a lot like Valentina at 12 weeks but only because they're related. Rachel's pregnant and due in September. Whoo Hooo!!! I am hoping for a girl so the cousins can be best buds but the truth is our family could use more testosterone. Ever since the grandpas passed on, the men are sadly outnumbered and surrounded by a gaggle of strong-willed bossy females. Hugh calls us "the witches". When Rachel and Rey got married, he told Rey "Welcome to the club man - we have our own website. It's called Igotmyballschoppedoff.com"

How Y'all Doin?

2009-03-27T18:52:00.000-07:00

You know you're in Dallas, Texas when every other house has a sign in the front yard that says "Welcome Home George and Laura", you can't walk from your house to the store (because there are no sidewalks) and every strip shopping mall has a Starbucks, a Marshalls, a Container Store and a Tex-Mex restaurant.

In 8 days, Valentina met her 94 year old still chesnut haired (1st foto) great grandmother VinceLee, grandparents Robert (3rd foto) and Suzanne, uncle Collin (2nd foto), great-aunt Betty Ann and great-uncle David, cousins VinceLee Jr., Gus and Alex, friends The Coughlins and The Fennegans. We were visited and did a lot of visit'n which is what there is to do other than shop great discount stores and watch the sky turn from celestial blue to a hurricane warning in less than an hour. It wasn't the beach vacation we'd envisioned pre-baby but the change of scenery and seeing family renewed us both.

Leaving our firstborn

2009-03-15T16:23:00.001-07:00

This week marked several major milestones. Thursday, my self-imposed maternity leave ended and I started teaching yoga again. Friday was the 10 year anniversary of our first date (movie: Cruel Intentions with Reese, Ryan and Selma and dinner: sushi in the Mission). Saturday was the two year anniversary of my arrival in Argentina. Tomorrow - another biggie. We'll leave our beloved bulldog Utta in the care of a friend for the first time since we moved here. By extension, this trip to Dallas (visiting family) will be the first time Hugh and I have taken a vacation together in two years.

Taking care of Utta is no small favor. She has a condition called Megaesophagus (an enlarged esophagus) and is a "special needs" doggie. What are these needs? Well, for starters, she eats in a chair like a baby and will do so for the rest of her life. It's a highchair but rests on the ground. Twice a day, one of us leads her to the chair, puts her in it either by picking her up (at 50 lbs, its like heaving a large sack of sand) or backing her into it and lifting her paws up to slide the rollbar in front of her chest. Once seated, she's fed by hand. The dog food is soaked in water first (to weigh it down and to satisfy her hydration needs) in a measuring cup. Once the dog pellets are placed in her mouth two or three at a time, the leftover water (like dogfood soup) is poured into her mouth. Set the timer for 30 minutes and leave her in the chair for the food to make its way down to her stomach. If this routine weren't followed, she'd vomit the food/water and potential aspirate fluid into her lungs, get pneumonia and die. The vet who diagnosed her back when she was a 1 year old puppy told us she probably wouldn't live another year and that we should come to grips with the reality of her condition. Instead of listening to him, we found a support network through Yahoogroups of other owners of megaesophagus dogs. One of the members of the group designed a chair for her dog to eat sitting upright. For every new member, she sends (for free) a CD with detailed instructions on how to build the chair for your own dog. Utta is almost 5 years old now, healthy and happy thanks to that chair and our vigilant routine.

She can't have treats or eat anything off the floor. She gets hot easily (like all bulldogs) and must sleep with a fan blowing on her and the a/c on. There are only a few people in the world that know how to take care of her. Me, Hugh, my sister Rachel, our friend Edie the bulldogger breeder, and our ex-SF dogwalker Doug Pizzy. We miss Doug a lot. He took great care of Utta when we went out of town and took her on daily walks with a few other well tended furries. For the next 8 days, Hugh's expat friend Chris will stay at our apartment while we're in Dallas to take care of our baby. Tonight he came over for a practice run. We have three pages of care instructions, emergency phone numbers and tips. Hugh is so nervous he asked Chris to call us everyday with an update of how things are going.

2009-03-09T06:57:00.000-07:00

Tramites

2009-03-02T15:53:00.000-08:00

Look up the word tramite in the english/spanish dictionary and it says "procedure or transaction". But somehow it just doesn't capture the essence of it here in Argentina. The word is used to describe anything that must be done (pay bills, fill out forms, stand in line blah blah), is a pain in the ass and takes eons. We've been in tramite hell the past few weeks getting Valentina's American and Argentine passports. The tramite for the US passport was so efficient and easy. Of course it already arrived only a week after we applied for it. The form asked for a headshot which I thought was absurd and would no way apply to an infant. Well, I was wrong. They did expect a photo of our little darling. So, here' one of me trying to get her to look straight ahead while Hugh played cameraman.

The Argentine tramite was as they say here "un kilumbo" (shitstorm). Hundreds of people waiting in a myriad of lines in a run down building with no a/c (it's summer remember), forms, more lines etc. We got to the end of it all and they say it will take 30-40 days. Not so bad if we didn't already have tix booked to visit the Alexanders in Dallas in two weeks. Until she is 18, she has dual citizenship. She'll enter and exit Argentina with her Argentine passport - same on the US side when we make trips back to visit family and friends. So, we wait and hope they send it early.

Tomorrow we start the next tramite - applying for permanent residency. We've been here on one year renewable visas but since Valentina is Argentine, as her parents we can apply for permanent residency. This time, head shots for us, more lines, more offices and at the end of it all....a legal pass to stay here for good.

Moon in Virgo

2009-02-23T15:26:00.000-08:00

My dear friend Sharon, woman of many talents (writer, shiatsu therapist, astrologist, former Wicca practitioner) did my chart last week. Of course I've always known I'm a Leo and as long as I can remember my mother brackets all news with "well, mars is in retrograde, so..." but discovered that I have a moon in Virgo - which explains my previous professional success in cubic worlds requiring attention to detail and a fastidiousness unheard of amongst generic leonines. Also, Virgos can be quite hard on themselves. Since Valentina's birth I can't seem to give myself a break on any one thing I used to do. Finding time for writing has been one of many postpartum challenges. With pregnancy came a surge of creative energy - last year I drafted nearly 30 stories and painted about 10 canvases. I'm trying to get back to writing now but it's all just shit. Mostly I whine like I'm doing right now. Nothing comes and if it does it bores me to hell. I fear the worst. So, friend Sharon and I are meeting weekly to write, sit in a cafe and encourage each other to do what we are not doing at home when we should - putting pen to paper.

The annual Feria de Libros is coming up at the end of April. To my horror and others delight, the US embassy wants to have our groups' full participation like last year. We'll publish an anthology of short stories, do readings at the booth and lead a workshop/speech on how to start and maintain a writers group. While others in my writers group have updated their bios to include prizes in writing contests entered, scholarships to prestigious writing programs, finishing a screenplay etc, I have nothing to add. Boo hoo. People keep saying "but you had a baby!" - as if that is accomplishment enough. The Virgo pouts.

Here's a photo from a one day writer's retreat we had about a month ago at Joanna's opulent home in Olivos - a wealthy suburb north of BA. We spent a glorious 5 hours beneath an giant avocado tree writing, recommitting ourselves to goals and eating well - as always. It was the longest stretch of time I'd been away from the baby. It both broke my heart and lifted my spirits.

A day at the office

2009-02-11T15:42:00.000-08:00

At 3/12 months, we decided it was time for Valentina to get a job. So now as part of her daily routine, she goes to the "office" (the bed in her room) and sits at her "desk" (the boppy). Her "employees" (the pink giraffe, the blue suited bear, the formless duck, the multi-colored centipede, and the permagrin doll) sit attentively while she orders them around (more milk! fewer naps! sing me a song!) like a good chief executive. In Argentine style, she spends about 15 minutes at the office in the morning and maybe another 10 in the afternoon before calling it a day.

Now that she's entered the stage of being curious about the world, I am constantly thinking of things to keep her amused, engaged and most important - not crying. We go on errands - the butcher, the fruit stand, the farmacia, the newstand, the kiosco. I put her in the Baby Bjorn while I put on my makeup and putz about. We go to the park and sometimes meet up with other mommies. We look out over the US Embassy garden next door to see if the Jacarandas are blooming yet and what the weather has in store. Yesterday we watched a rainstorm that lasted 4 hours (her attention lasted two minutes). But, Valentina's favorite activity is watching the bulldog. Its like her own private zoo.

Park play

2009-02-06T03:26:00.001-08:00

Just saying it out loud I fear jinxing myself but I'm too excited to keep the news to myself. Valentina is sleeping through the night. Monday it was 9pm - 5am. Then 9-5:30 then 9-7 and last night 9 -6. Always goes back to sleep after nursing and a bottle for another 3 hours. Starts her day around 9 or 9:30am with a huge smile and giggles. Is this a fluke or is it her new routine? I don't know. All I know is that the birds chirp louder, the sun shines brighter, the summer peaches taste sweeter and I don't wake up with a scowl. Sleep is a wonderful thing.

Argentines vacation in January (the July of the southern hemisphere). All around the city hand made signs posting vacation dates hang on closed doors. Most of my new mommy friends have returned and we are now starting to gather with the babes in the afternoons. Tuesday we met at Parque Las Heras. At this point the babies are too young to interact but we sit with them while they coo and burp. At least we have a chance to exchange info on sleeping patterns, feeding and tricks for calming the cry. My friend Mariela (Argentine) works at a telecom company and was the only one of the group to go back full time at three months. Her husband Paul(Australian) has one of those oddball expat jobs. He is paid by an Asian company to attend the local soccer matches and report the play by play to them via international cell calls so they can bet on it. I suspect its on the up and up the way he tells everyone freely what he does but it sounds fishy to me. Anyway, he is the stay at home dad. He joined our last mommygroup for a bit and complained there is no support for dads here. (which is true - stay at home dads are nonexistent) He asked me if Valentina jerks her head back when I hold her and how much she eats at each feeding. I try not to play the comparison game but its hard not to. Valentina has the most hair, the biggest sweetest smile and the cutest outfits by far (thanks to friends and family).

Mini Cher

2009-01-30T14:46:00.000-08:00

Hugh calls this Valentina's "Cher" outfit. She's starting to grow into her adult looking clothes so even though we don't have many special occasions for it, we play dress up from time to time in the house. The day she wore the frilly Cher ensemble, we went to a mommy's group I've been to a few times now. The facilitator/instructor lady taught us how to put the babes on their stomachs to become accustomed to the crawling position and also how to prop them in a box so they can learn to sit up on their own. Mostly she encourages us to find positions the babies can stay in on their own (15 minutes or so) without being held all day long. Valentina's favorite is on her back staring up at the whirling ceiling fan. It so fascinates and delights her that she laughs, squeals and gurgles to it for over half an hour each time. Listening to her laugh is one of my newest joys.

Hugh videotaped them playing with the dog today. It's the most fun she's had in her three months of life. I know the grandmas will love it and anyone else that has a soft spot for happy babies or playful bulldogs, go to www.youtube.com and search "Utta and Valentina". There are two of them.

Baby V

2009-01-13T15:41:00.000-08:00

Not Pampita

2009-01-13T14:51:00.000-08:00

They know her by first name like Cher, Madonna, Bono. She is Argentina’s Heidi Klum – a model, sometime actress, celebrity and gorgeous-bodied mom. She is the woman all normal moms here love to hate.

I hate her too. When I was pregnant last winter, Pampita posed boldly in a string bikini on the cover of Gente magazine (Argentina’s People) in her 8th month of her second pregnancy. She glowed and looked sexier than most non pregnant women I know. She is in Gente magazine again this week. This time to flaunt her taut bod six months post birth. My jaw dropped when I saw the g-string bikini shots of her cavorting on the Chilean beach with her beau and two young children. She hasn’t a touch of cellulite or loose skin anywhere. You would never know she was big bellied – twice. I hate her.

I gained 40 pounds in my 9 ½ months of growing Valentina. 30 melted off within two weeks of the birth with little effort other than breastfeeding. The last 10 aren’t budging. My belly, which used to be toned and flat from yoga is now a bowl of jello. The skin is squishy and loose and spills over too tight jeans. The vertical dark line still runs from my sternum to well past my belly button. My hips are wider and seem to smirk when I attempt to wear any of my pre-baby pants. I am not Pampita. They say she went to a spa for two weeks after the baby was born to get drained, massaged, wrapped and who knows what else. Whatever she did, it worked. What I am doing is not working. Some days I do yoga at home in between feedings. Others I go rollerblading around the lake. I tried once last week to run for the first time in nearly a year and lasted half a lap with lots of gasps for air. My organs felt like they were being jostled around an empty suitcase. This is not the body I remember but it’s the one I’m stuck with now.

2009

2009-01-02T12:09:00.000-08:00

Sleep.

I have a feeling my desire for more of and current lack of sleep will be a major theme this new year. My aunt tells me being tired is a constant state of being as a parent no matter what the age. Lovely. I rang in the new year asleep. Valentina and I stayed up until 10pm and then went down for the night after her bath and a poorly executed bedtime lullaby. I woke at midnight to the sounds of fireworks exploding outside the apartment - across the street at both plazas and the parque Rosedal. The fireworks lasted for hours. This week I learned that Argentines do fireworks so well they export them to the Chinese. There were still firework sonic booms at 7am the next morning. There appear to be no rules with regard to who can set them off or where they can be used. Grandmas to 6 year olds throw mini hand grenades into oncoming traffic for sport once a year in celebration of Ano Nuevo. Seeing it reminds me that yes, we live in a third world country. We stayed in to protect Utta who last year trembled all night from the noise. Also, because we have yet to venture out at night with or without the baby.

I am making my way back to some of my former activities. Yoga practice when I can squeeze it in at home, Thursdays@three writing group and next month I will return to teaching prenatal yoga once a week. Finding time to write is the hardest thing. Any "free" time I have is spent with my face buried in a pillow. There seems to be no catching up. The important thing is Valentina is well fed, rested and growing quickly out of her cute onesies.

Sleep cycles

2008-12-16T09:02:00.000-08:00

Huevos Fritos

2008-12-08T14:24:00.000-08:00

When Valentina doesn't want to fall asleep, Rosa says she has "ojos como huevos fritos" - eyes like fried eggs.

Rosa

2008-12-08T14:06:00.001-08:00

Two weeks ago we hired Rosa to be our "mucama" - someone who cooks, cleans and looks after Valentina when I want to take a shower, a nap or run an errand. Having her around has significantly improved things. She's pleasant, on the quiet side and seems trustworthy - the most important thing here. She's the cousin of one of the downstairs doormen so is more likely to be "de confiansa". Along with a crotchety husband of 20 years, she has three teenage boys of her own but always wanted to have a girl. She adores Valentina and showers her with affection and attention. I'm more than thrilled to have the support and for Valentina to have an extra bosom to fall asleep on after a feeding. Rosa comes Monday through Friday from about 9am - 6:30pm for the monthly cost of what I used to spend on a Nordstroms outfit or decadent sushi meal. Bringing in a Mrs Doubtfire was a no brainer. Its one of the benefits of living in South America where domestic help is the norm for middle class families and extremely affordable.

Today was a holiday so we paid her extra to work so that we could go to a movie - just the two of us. Hugh checked his cellphone every 15 minutes or so to see if she called with an "emergency" and I missed Valentina more than I thought I would, but it was good to get out of the house. While we were gone she cleaned the entire apartment, baked a swiss chard tart for dinner and played with the baby. For lunch she made us chicken and beef milanesas.

Friends and thanksgiving

2008-11-30T12:41:00.001-08:00

This week marked the return of a semi social life. One of many transformations since Valentina's birth is the friend circle. My closest girlfriends - Gaby, Laura and Judith (all single and childless) keep wondering when I'll be back to our weekly late night dinner/wine events. Judith - farthest from breeding or even monogamous coupling wants to know when I'll be back with the running team. Gaby joined a new adventure running team and has been going on spiritual retreats. Judith went to Club Med Brazil with two other single gals from our running team last week. Laura's been calling 3 times a day wanting to visit and not understanding why I can't make solid plans or why entertaining is more draining than fun. Where does Ambi the tired new mom fit into all of this?

For Thanksgiving, fellow expat and writer friend Amanda invited us to her place for a civilized turkey feast (Photo 3). Three other couples with kids were there. It was the kind of evening I would have abhorred a year a go but it turned out to be fun and a relief. Kids running and crying, adult conversation constantly interrupted, pumping on the go for the first time, Valentina mostly sleeping but then ultimately crying and us making a made dash for the door, two hours spent outside of the house in a semi-normal social setting with our baby - a true milestone and for that and many other blessings, I am thankful.

Yesterday we invited Italian friends Mara and Matijas over for a mate (Photo 1). They brought a huge tub of Persicco gelato and their two month old boy who loved Valentina's swing. We talked about being new parents and life in our adopted country. Later that night we ventured out to friend Brad and Laura's thanksgiving dinner party (Photo 2). I didn't want to go (what if she cries, what if we can't get a cab home in time for me to pump, what if I miss my window for a nightly nap?) but knew they'd be disappointed if we flaked even with the fussy 4 week old as an excuse. Valentina slept through dinner and had a massive crying attack just before dessert so we headed home after a respectable appearance. Brad's testing two new cookie flavors for his business so we indulged in oatmeal raisin and chocolate butterscotch tasties at home.

Where do new moms go? A good friend of mine from San Francisco literally disappeared for 6 months after the birth of her first child. We went from talking every day and seeing eachother a few times a week to nothing for six months. No calls, emails or visits. She had no help and her husband worked long hours. At the time I was incensed and hurt. Now I see...

Boobology

2008-11-21T03:39:00.000-08:00

I'm not a boobologist but I've learned a lot about boob mechanics the past few weeks. With all of the prenatal yoga and childbirthing classes I took during my pregnancy I somehow failed to attend a lactation talk. Turns out this was real important.

Since her birth day, Valentina has latched on to the boob. No problem finding it nor knowing what to do once it made its way into her super sucking orfice. I hired Maria the doula/lactation specialist to help me get adjusted to this new activity. I thought things were going ok the first few days. Valentina sucked and although there was no milk yet, she was eeking out the bit of colostrum they say is so key to her immunity. Then she started to look a bit yellow - jaundice warning. Pediatrician said it was likely due to my milk coming in a bit late - 5 days after birth. Finally it came in and her color improved. I also took her outside on the balcony for a bit of indirect sun exposure. Then the right boob got clogged. Turned splotchy red and hard. Hurt. Doula advised me to massage it, hot showers, try to express the milk out. OB Dr. Lodeiro suggested taking Ibuprofen to release the milk. Meanwhile, all this time breastfeeding is excruciatingly painful. Nipples are war wounds and Valentina never seems satiated. Doula suggests different positions, opening her mouth wider, keeping her more awake, nursing for more time each boob, nursing for less time each boob but more frequently. Is there anything we haven't tried?

Last friday, Valentina goes to pediatrician for her checkup (had been 12 days since last visit). She weighs less than her birth weight. WHAT!!!! They send me up to the lactation center at Hospital Aleman. They pump my breasts and only 20ml comes out. She's starving. My boobs are so wounded I cry during the pumping. Tears of pain and extreme frustration. I thought this was supposed to be natural and easy? Do I have to become a boobologist to get my kid some nurishment? They advise bottle feeding with formula to supplement my breastmilk until production increases. Boobs no longer a body part - they're a machine. I cry some more. Not the evil formula. After all this yoga, natural birth, no meds...now I have to give her formula? boo hoooooooo They treat the boobs with special salve that is supposed to heal them fast.

I tried for two days to breast feed and then give a bottle of formula. She sleeps more and seems calmer, well fed. No problem taking to the bottle. She'll suck on anything. She also gets a pacifier. Boobs are still a mess and all I feel is pain. Yesterday broke open the pump. Now I am pumping milk into a bottle to feed her and adding another bottle of formula. The "bad boob" that once had a clog gives two squirts of milk and then stops. The lactation people at the hospital said I am too exhausted to produce enough milk. Have to get more rest. Monday starts a full time maid/nanny person to help out. i dream of mrs doubtfire.

Pretend Anniversary

2008-11-11T15:17:00.000-08:00

Eight years ago Monday Nov 10th, Hugh and I stood on the steps of San Francisco City Hall and pledged our I do's to ex-Mayor, sometimes wedding officiant Willie Brown. Later that night we dined in high style at Fleur de Lys - one of if not the nicest french restaurants in town.

This year's celebration was....not like that.

In the afternoon we got a delivery from one of Hugh's work associates. He sent a dozen long stemmed red roses for me and two adorable pink (there is no other color for girls in Argentina) outfits for Valentina. I said to Hugh "let's pretend you gave me these flowers for our anniversary!" It set off a game of let's pretend I let take hold of my mind.

Let's pretend we'll dress up fancy tonight and go out for a decadent meal instead of scarfing down leftovers separately while one holds a crying infant.

Let's pretend we had time to get each other cards or a gift.

Let's pretend I got more than two hours sleep last night.

Let's pretend the baby didn't have an hour long crying fit in the midst of the air conditioner breaking and leaking pools of water all over the living room.

Let's pretend we went on that family walk around the lake I wanted to take but ultimately had no energy for.

Let's pretend being new parents is nonstop fun and easy.

Let's pretend we know what we're doing.

Let's pretend we'll soon get back to our old lives.

Who's in charge

2008-11-09T04:49:00.000-08:00

If I could pick two photos to sum up the last week, these two are it (the bathtub shot is incidental). Valentina is either a monster or a typical newborn. She is happiest when held which makes sleeping or doing anything else nearly impossible. This is the first handsfree moment I've had in a week when I'm not trying to catch up on some precious zzz's. All the veterans of parenting are probably nodding, smirking and remembering their own trials of the first weeks and months.

Yesterday I walked us with stroller the one mile loop around Rosedal lake. My week of repose inside the house gave way to the spring blossoms of Jacaranda trees. Everywhere I look now the bright lavendar branches burst out for attention. This is my favorite time of year although our spring is hotter than usual (already in the 80's) About halfway around the lake I got very tired and Valentina a bit cranky. I sang her a lullaby so she'd know i was still there which seemed to soothe. When we got home I was exhausted and wanted to collapse for a two hour siesta. Instead Valentina had a crying fit that lasted an hour while I bounced her on the ball, danced, swayed and sashayed. Then she nursed and then we both slept for nearly 3 hours.

I looked around at all the baby stuff we have and to my surprise, we are using all of it. At first I thought - some of this has got to be superfluous clutter. But no, the muslin swaddles, the onesies, little hats and socks, blankets, swing, sling, burp cloths and boppys, nursing pads, and ointments. We have used everything. But, if I had to give an award to the most helpful item so far, I'd say the book I didn't even know I needed "The Happiest Baby on the Block". The 5 S's(swaddle, shush, side, swing, suck) to soothe her work miracles. That doesn't mean she wants to be put down but at least she is not screaming her head off. Thank you again Fowlers and other friends that recommended this book.

The first few days

2008-11-02T12:21:00.000-08:00

She sucks, cries, sleeps.

Utta worries.

Daddy cooks and coos.

I recover and marvel.

The Birth Day

2008-10-30T10:20:00.000-07:00

The birth story is for another day but here a few details.

Valentina Alexander was born this morning at 5:17am Buenos Aires time in her own bedroom. She weighs 7.7 pounds, has dark hair and blue eyes.

We labored for almost exactly 48 hours (yes, you read that right).

Mom, baby, daddy and Grandma Lori are all doing fine although tired. Utta stayed up through the night and kept watch from the other room. She is very anxious to get to know her new baby sister but we are taking it slow.

The Real Deal

2008-10-28T08:05:00.000-07:00

Woke at 5:45 with seriously painful contractions. Ouchie! now I know why they say you'll KNOW when it really starts. The warm up contractions of the previous several days were nothing. They come every 5-10-15 minutes. Olga, the midwife says we are still in the early stage until the contractions come every 5 minutes for two hours in a row. Went on a short walk with Mom and Utta to the park, stopping to clutch a tree, a bench or mom's shoulder every contraction. Hugh is giddy and excited. Valentina is on her way....

Final ultrasound

2008-10-27T09:19:00.000-07:00

Got another ultrasound this morning so my OB could confirm all is ok with the amniotic fluid and that we can wait a few more days. The results came back very good. She's doing well and is about 8 pounds, plenty of amniotic fluid, heartbeats normal, placenta well placed - excellent report all around. but....she can't stay in there forever. So, he wants to give me 48 hours and then Wednesday morning I will take the Prostaglandin pill to provoke the final contractions. Even though I've had two false starts (including lots of contractions last night), he says the third one is usually the charm. So we wait some more.

Rach leaves tonight on the 10pm flight. If Murphy's Law is in play at all - I will go into labor as soon as she leaves. I have given up all control or attempt and planning. This lesson is clear and undeniable. No one except Valentina is in charge.

Sunday rain

2008-10-26T02:39:00.000-07:00

yesterday went on three long walks and to see the new (at least for Argentina)Coen bros movie with Clooney and Pitt. I never tire of seeing Brad Pitt's face and body onscreen. Even when he's being a total goof.

Contractions all day yesterday and last night picked up intensity though still 15 minutes apart. the body is doing its thing but in no hurry. Auntie Rachel is leaving tomorrow night to take care of the hubby who threw his back out this week. Hoping this new "deadline" helps bring Valentina into the world before but I am certain this is totally out of my hands. Mom is here now too and making me soups and accompanying me on all outings.

My friend Sharon (writer and reflexology guru) is coming by this afternoon to give me another treatment.

Getting closer but...

2008-10-24T13:14:00.001-07:00

Yesterday the contractions continued every 15 or 20 minutes. I was fatigued and a bit withdrawn, irritable. laid around alot. Mom arrived three hours late due to technical issues on the flight from Dallas but is now here and delighted to join team Babywatch. Thought for sure things would continue and progress but slept easily through the night and contractions have stopped. ugghhhhhhhhhhhh

Saw my OB Dr. Lodeiro this afternoon and yea! He said Valentina had dropped and that thanks to yesterday's contractions, I am 2 centimeters dilated. I am thrilled but know we've still got a way's to go and need to get that baby movin. Hopefully this weekend will bring more activity....

Signs of Labor????

2008-10-23T02:12:00.000-07:00

Last night we joined Democrats Abroad and made calls to registered voters living outside the US to help them get their absentee ballots in. Rachel and I had lists of people living in Canada but registered to vote in Ohio. Hugh had a list of Americans living in Argentina. It was fun and a great distraction from Operation BabyWatch. For two hours I was just another participant in the democratic process. Everyone I talked to was thrilled to get the call and appreciated the reminder and tips on how to get their vote in. Many of the Americans I spoke to living in Toronto had already planned to send their ballot with friends or family (or drive themselves) to Ohio. I had to inform them not to do that. The govt requires a postmark from the residing country so their votes wouldn't have counted if they took that step of hand delivering the ballot in Ohio.

I started to feel some strong contractions when we got up to leave the phoning center and realized too that Valentina had made her way down south a bit more. My waddle turned to a snail like shuffle. We stopped by California Burrito Co. for dinner although I already knew there was no way I would eat spicy mexican. I drank a lemon lime soda and when we got home had a few slices of pineapple. Loss of appetite is definitely a "sign" of something. My contractions continued through the night but not close enough yet to be timed and not strong enough to warrant beasty moans or crawling around on the floor clutching support. We'll save those goodies for my mom who arrives in just a few hours!

Obama Momma

2008-10-21T08:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I cast my vote at the US Embassy with an absentee ballot sent from the elections office in San Francisco. Go OBAMA!!!! Sorry Republican family members ): but your party's goin down this year.

The daily inquiries as to the status of the birth (or in this case NOT) are getting more urgent and panicky. All I can say is... CALM DOWN PEOPLE. She is taking her sweet time and I will put a blog post up as soon as something starts happening. As of today, no contractions and I feel great - lots of energy and although big as Mao Mao (the pregnant panda bear we watched on Animal Planet channel the other night), am walking lots and still doing yoga. Last night Rachel and I did 24 flights of stairs in our building (thanks for the tip Stacy!). I figure it can't hurt.

Rachel extended her trip and now has an open-ended ticket. Gracious hubbie Rey encouraged her to stay even though he and their two doggies miss her. She didn't come all this way to miss the main event so will keep me company until Miss Valentina appears. Yea!!!!

We all went to my OB appointment yesterday with Dr. Tito Lodeiro (who'll attend the birth). He said her head is still moving a bit and not yet descended into my pelvis. Dangit! So, he didn't want to ck my cervix. Obviously, we're not there yet and she is having too much fun in my belly to rush out. His only words of advice "Hay que tener paciencia" - ya gotta have patience.

Tomorrow night the three of us will volunteer on the phones with Democrats Abroad. They're very active here in Argentina and have been sending me email updates on activities these past weeks. They need people to contact expats living in Argentina who are registered to vote in Florida but haven't yet cast their absentee ballots. This will be my first volunteer effort on a presidential campaign and I'm excited to participate.

Jumbo ride

2008-10-20T08:28:00.001-07:00

The other day Rach and I went to Jumbo - BA's own big box shopping store. I hate going there as it reminds me of the parts of the US experience I don't miss - the gluttony, the bigness and waste of consuming. but....it carries the most extensive international food section in town so we can buy fajita seasoning, corn tortilla chips and other random goodies. I made Hugh's year by picking up a jar of jalapeno peppers. He's been waiting to see them carried by Jumbo since last years sighting.

Anyway - its so big inside (think food, electronics, home furnishings and several cafes in one space, that I get exhausted and can't get out of there in less than 2 hours. This time I decided to take the crippled cart - which as I realized is actually made for people like me - limited mobility! The security guard lit up when I motioned to get onboard. Reminded me of being a kid and skidding around on the bumper cars. Only two ways to go - forward or backward. I sideswiped a few old ladies but other than that came through unscathed and with lots more energy than I've ever had at the end of a Jumbo session.

Mother's Day

2008-10-19T01:06:00.000-07:00

Today is Mother's Day in Argentina so as we say here "Feliz Dia del Madre!". Did I think I'd spend this day with a newborn in my arms - yes, most certainly. Valentina has other plans it seems. Today is also my official due date. Stats show that only 1 in 20 babies are born on their due date. Although I've got insomnia, no major labor pains so looks like this day will pass like the others this week - in anticipation.

What could she be waiting for?
For her auntie Rachel to arrive - no. been here almost two weeks and due to leave on Tuesday. boo hoo

For the house and her room to get in order - no. The house has been cleaned meticulously from top to bottom several times. Every time Marta comes she gives it an extra umpf just in case Valentina makes an appearance that day or the next. Pictures hung, baby swing assembled (with batteries), labor food stored (chocolate, gatorade, yogurt, teas, orange juice ice cubes). We ate through the entire pan of baked pasta Hugh made last week intended for the midwives and doctors. Today he will make batch two.

For the full moon - no. Tuesday passed with no false alarms even. The moon was nice to look at though.

To finish growing -no. She's cooked and considered full term for two weeks. Nothing new to add on, just weight.

For grandma to arrive - maybe. She flies down on Wednesday.

To be a Scorpio, not a Libra - maybe. Tuesday, she'll be a Scorpio. Already, she's on the cusp so I've been reading up on this sign for children. I already know what its like having a Scorpio mother and mother in law. Scorpio children are a handful - wise souls, creative, passionate, sometimes secretive and strong willed. One site said "high maintenance" but if parented well, they can change the world. Ghandi and Picasso - Scorpios. Well, so much for the easy peasy Libras.

For her momma to vote Obama - maybe. Tomorrow I'll go to the US Embassy to cast my vote. I received my absentee ballot in the mail from SF on Friday so just have to drop it off with the box marked "not the creepy old man and nitwit from Alaska" please. Rachel showed me how to watch The Daily Show episodes online so I've been catching up lately. Valentina's enjoyed some pee-my-pants funny moments of laughter.

For everyone I know to send me at least one check-in message ie "news?", "is she there yet?", "any updates?", "what's happening?". Some friends are now on to round two and three of these inquiries. Last night I heard Hugh on the phone with family in Texas "Oh, she's fine. Gigantic! Really really big!" Yeah, just what I want to hear...

Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Friday I went to Hospital Aleman for my scheduled fetal monitoring. Her heart is all good and beating normally 120-160 beats per minute depending on whether she is moving around or not. Ran into my Argentine girlfriend Carolina. Her due date was last Thursday and she is as anxious as me to meet her baby. Her doctor will induce tomorrow if she doesn't go into labor on her own. This is the typical conservative practice here. Pass your due date and let's go! My doc said we'll wait 10 days past the due date with no concerns of risk factors, then he'll give me a pill to get contractions going and cervix thinning.

All of the documented ways to bring on labor naturally - tried 'em. Any others you know of? Let me know!

The Crisis trickles down to BA

2008-10-12T07:38:00.000-07:00

Inflation has been a problem since we arrived. The most conservative estimates pin annual inflation at 30% but some say up to 80% on certain items. Last night we went to dinner at Empire Thai for my friend Sharon's 40th birthday celebration. My eyes bulged with sticker shock when I took a look at the menu. The entrees went for 35 to nearly 50 pesos each ($12-15US). This is double what it cost to eat there 8 months ago. The restaurant was nearly empty for a Saturday night except for our party of 15. We made an early-ish exit (2 hours is the max I can sit at a table) when my limbs started to swell and back ached so paid the waitress separately. Hugh had a chat with her about business and she admitted they were struggling. Their only customers now were expats and even those were few and far between. Their response (Argentines) seems to be - raise prices on the few customers you have left to make up for the shortfall. Not a good strategy. This place will not last long.

Yesterday afternoon Rachel and I visited a well referred hair stylist named Ryan (of Canada) who does the hair of friends Sharon, Amanda and Kara. His specialty is repair jobs on the oft-poorly executed Argentine mullet cut. I've been trying to grow my mullet disaster out for two months and Rach needed a color touch up so we headed over to his place. He admitted the US financial crisis had practically decimated his business in the past 3 weeks. His clients are expats - mostly North Americans and Europeans that want an english speaking stylist. He said many of them had already fled Argentina - heading home to manage/fret over/review their investments, real estate etc. The panic had set in and many felt uncomfortable being so far away as their financial lives collapsed. Another anecdote he shared was of a client who saw her net worth drop from $120 million to $20 million in one week. It's hard to feel sorry for someone like that - she won't be living on the street anytime soon but may have to scale back her P-Diddy yacht parties in the south of France. His prices are still reasonable (65 pesos/$22US for a cut) but he said he'll need to raise them next month to survive.

Not yet...

2008-10-11T01:48:00.000-07:00

Today is not the day. Neither was yesterday or the day before. I can't imagine labor catching me by surprise. Waters still intact and so is my appetite. I'm trying to make plans a few days out at a time so I have more to do than read "The Happiest Baby on the Block" (excellent resource if the 5 "S's" really work to quiet the cries). Auntie Rachel brought a nasty cold with her that I caught on Wednesday night so I think Valentina will wait for me to get better before making her grand entrance. The house is all sniffles and sneezes. Hugh made us his famous lemony chicken soup with spinach for dinner last night and we curled up for a movie on the couch.

Utta's escorting/guarding behavior has taken on a new intensity. She must know the time is near. She trots after me from room to room with a concerned look on her face until I settle in to do something. When I nap, she naps beside me. If I'm in the kitchen, she'll bring her bone-chewing in there. When I retire to the couch to read or watch TV, she's right next to me until we both go to bed at night - always at the same time.

The Waiting Game

2008-10-08T05:42:00.000-07:00

Rachel arrived from San Francisco yesterday morning with another huge duffle of baby gifts from friends and family. She's sick with the flu or some sinus-y thing but still managed in the first few hours of arriving to rearrange my underwear drawer with dividers she brought down from the states(gotta love The Container Store), organize the kitchen cupboard and do a load of dishes. I had to beg her not to do the dishes last night so that our housekeeper Marta would have something to do today.

Friend Sharon came over and gave me a special reflexology massage - targeting the trigger points for getting labor started. I'm hopeful but so far nothing new. My OB checked my cervix for dilation on Monday afternoon and it was "cerrado" - closed. Emails flood my inbox daily now with questions of "did it happen yet?" Last night brought home a birthing chair from my weekly class with the midwives. Trying to keep on doing the normal things and let Valentina take her time but the suspense of when...

37th Week Update

2008-09-27T15:03:00.001-07:00

Spring sprung today. Officially it started last Sunday but the weather took a week to catch up to the calendar. We spent the afternoon in our favorite park Rosedal across the street from the apartment. I gussied up and Hugh played photographer as I donned pose after pose from my prenatal yoga series. I want to have some shots that I can use afterwards in marketing materials, maybe a website or something for my prenatal yoga classes.

We ran into our new friends Mara (Italian) and husband (name escapes me) outside for the first time with their newborn Matijas - born just two weeks ago. We probed about all sorts of new baby schedule/apparatus and life change changes. Matijas lay peacefully asleep in his stroller the whole time. They have to go through some extra paperwork to register their childs name. The father is slovakian and the spelling reflects that heritage. Matijas doesn't exist on the Argentine list of "approved" names so they'll have to petition. We won't have that problem with Valentina but we would if we wanted to name her any of the in fashion celebrity names of late - Apple, Suri, Zuma, etc. The Argentines don't want to fill their country with a bunch of weirdos. They are just fine with generation after generation of Diegos, Gabrielas, Rodrigos, Sergios, Valerias.

I received a number of emails from friends this week wanting to check in and see how I was feeling - now so close to the due date. So here it is: Baby has "dropped" into my pelvis in preparation for D-Day so I am waddling around...slowly. I feel a great deal of pressure down there and am most comfortable with hips as open as possible and lots of cushy back support. Makes going out to dinner and sitting for any period of time longer than 15 minutes uncomfortable. That said, we're trying to do lots of both now while we still own our own time. I'm still doing yoga - next week I'll teach my last class for a three month maternity break. I will miss my students but am wanting to stick around the house much more these days. Still have crazy vivid dreams and occasional restless nights anxious about the coming changes. The other night I dreamt Utta bit the hand off of our baby girl. Yes, I'm a bit worried about introducing our first baby girl to the new human one. The Dog Whisperer will be consulted. I am having occasional pre-labor contractions. My OB says its normal to have 15-20 per day. Sometimes I feel tightness in the belly and other times it more intense like a menstrual cramp.

Valentina moves all day and I can feel her legs up into my ribs and knees rolling towards my belly button. She's a constant companion that I never get tired of. As excited as I am to meet her in person I have a feeling I will miss the pregnancy too. Tomorrow marks week 37 - according to most, the baby is now full term. Any time, any day. For me, she'll arrive a few days after her auntie Rachel (coming Oct 7th).

Writers retreat

2008-09-18T08:51:00.000-07:00

My writers group Thursdays@Three had been talking about a weekend retreat all winter. Half the group took vacations to the Northern Hemisphere to enjoy a summer break from the cold so we knew the earliest we could get it together would be the first weekend in September. Joanna found us what appeared to be an adorable casita on one of the islands in Tigre - a short one hours drive north of Buenos Aires. Tigre is a collection of little islands - all navigable via boats like the Florida Keys (never been there but comparisons have been made amongst other expats I know here). Its scenic and serene in the fall and spring though intolerable in the summer when mosquitos multiply and thrive in the still, moist air. In the winter, it floods and homes simply float away.

We arrived early Saturday morning to the boat launch that would take us out to the casita. It was overcast, drizzling, cold and the kind of day you'd rather not get out of bed. Sharon brought a dangerous quantity of freshly made pastries (facturas) and we boarded the boat with the “necessities”. I decided to prioritize comfort over vanity. At this point I just don't care if I'm viewed as hoggy - I am high maintenance. I brought two huge dufflebags and two small grocery bags. The full body pillow - check, sleeping head pillow - check, softest warmest blanket - ck, breastfeeding "boppy" pillow to use as a lapdesk - ck, hot water bottle, yoga mat, yoga block and blanket and cds, various writing materials, ugg boots, rain boots, comfy sweats and Hugh's heavy pea coat, and clothes for one night, two full days. For sustenance I packed my mate kit, hard boiled eggs, granola cereal, two tupperwares of fruit salad to share for breakfast, yogurt and a grilled chicken breast just in case. Excessive yes, but in my case, practical. I wanted for nothing and am so glad I overpacked.

The initial charm of the casita melted like snow on a spring day as we tried to unpack and discover how things worked – or in this case, didn’t. Oh, how quaint - the toilet doesn't flush. Looks like we need to pour water from a bucket into the tank for a manual flush. Lovely! There are only two burners on the stove that work and light manually to barely a simmer. Good thing we're in no rush to heat hot water for coffee or anything else. Look at that - the "bedroom" that sleeps 4 is a separate outhouse from the main casita, is 10 below zero with a non working heater and two sets of incredibly tiny and unusable bunkbeds! Hmmm, that’s odd, the electricity seems to flicker on and off. Guess we’ll have to unplug the refrigerator so we can heat the living room where we’ll write and hang out. Luckily several of us packed extra blankets and pillows. By group consensus we pulled the wafer thin mattresses off the bunk beds so that most could sleep on the floor in the living room.

Finally we settled down to business and started in on our real agenda - writing. There was one truly comfortable chair - offered freely to the preggo, yea! We stayed on task throughout the drizzly afternoon with writing exercises, some free time to work on individual projects and a lengthy discussion of writing achievements over the year. We took a break when a floating store passed by. Bought freshly made ravioli for dinner and a ton of water (of course, you can’t drink the water in the house or use it for washing dishes, your face or your teeth!). Some of us took a stroll in the rain around the other properties and through a foresty trail that reminded me of Muir woods. I retired early (to the one bed that existed) and fell into a black slumber while the rest remained giggling on the floor deep in bedding, champagne and stories.

Sunday we started with an Ambi-led yoga class in the living room. Another full day of writing, planning for the coming year with new goals for our group (hosting a reading event, participating again at the Feria de Libros, focusing a bit more on writing technique in our weekly meetings and all of us submitting more work for publication), walking, frequent smoke breaks (for the two puffers) and eating of course. The bus boat came by to pick us up at 7pm. I felt strangely rested and pleased with the course of things. With all its discomforts, it was the perfect getaway - only an hour away and filled with adventure to laugh about later and bond the group.

We decided not to wait another year before retreating again. Next time we'll go to the beach at the end of the summer and hopefully have more luck with the rental but just as much fun.

A whole lotta belly

2008-09-10T18:09:00.001-07:00

A few days before Vaughn left town, I got an invite to dinner from one of the women in my prenatal yoga classes (that I attend not teach). It was the first time anyone had "asked me out" and I was thrilled at the opportunity to make friends with another "embarazada/preggo". She said a few others from our class were coming too with their Sig O's/spouses. Vaughn rolled his eyes and said "great, an evening with a bunch of pregnant women" - with special emphasis on the "p" word as if we're lepers. I guess I can understand. He's swingin single, on vacation, wanting to do man things and somehow is getting dragged to an evening of flying female hormones.

The evening was a huge success and we all had fun - even Vaughn. I suggested from the beginning that all the women sit on one end of the table and the men at the other (a common practice anyway in Argentina). The men bantered all night about sports and other manly things - cigars? porn? who knows.

Anyhoo...us gals talked of our burgeoning bellies, birth plans, nanny set ups, cravings and the like. It was heaven and giggles of fun. We took this pic of the six of us - all in our third trimester. Starting on the left, there's Mara, Italian and living here with her husband for two years while he finishes a work assignment, next is Sally, Australian and married to an Uruguayan that grew up in BA (they are moving back to Australia when the baby is two weeks old), then me, then Melanie, Swiss and living here for two years while her Swiss husband works and then they'll return home, Mariela is the Argentine with Australian boyfriend in all black with the biggest bump at 40.5 weeks (she had her baby girl Sofia two days ago - nearly 10lbs) and lastly Carolina, also Argentine and coupled with an Australian bloke. Both the Australian men want to move their Argentine girlfriends and new babies back to the motherland. Hugh and I are the only ones sticking it out here. Will be nice to socialize with this group over the next year but soon all will be gone...

Boogie Night

2008-09-03T17:50:00.001-07:00

Saturday night we took Vaughn (Hugh's friend from SF in for a 10 day visit) to a "boliche" aka late night dance club. Why I waited until my eighth month of pregnancy to visit a disco is a mystery. The Boliches don't even open until 1am. So, in preparation we took naps from 9-11pm, then drank mate. Friend Gaby arrived at 12:30am and we took off in her car for a place called Museum in San Telmo. There was already a line of 50 or so people when we arrived and the place was nearly full inside. Eyes widened as I sashayed by with my big bump. I knew what they were thinking "good god, what the hell is she doing here!" I felt high from the mate and excited to be out in the middle of the night like a real Portena. It was either retro night or Argentines love the 80s - either way, the DJ rocked Erasure, Boy George, Wham (wake me up before you gogo) Early Madonna, Michael Jackson, Shania Twain (yes, and all the women knew the lyrics word for word), and many others. I rolled my hips in circle eights and Valentina enjoyed the ride. About 4am my feet started to swell and the heat from 500 pulsating Argentines started to suffocate me. So, Hugh and I took a cab home and Vaughn and Gaby stayed out till a more respectable 7:30am when the sun came up.

Guest blogger - a man's perspective

2008-08-27T09:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, so we've had a kind of full week of pregnancy related outings. Hugh got inspired to write. Here's his version....

"Monday night is our birth class. As it is a "natural" birth class (women who want to have their kids without drugs, suction, tools used to stretch or cut the vagina to speed up the birth, no cesareans, etc.), we sit on the floor. I guess sitting cross-legged for two hours is preparation for the pain of childbirth. In "nature" there are no chairs, only pillows and sore backs.

Raquel, the motherly, graying, 60 something "advisory" midwife (she's only instructing us, not participating in the birth) who teaches the class, gets the only chair. I frequently tune her out and think about how comfortable she looks. Sometimes, maybe 45 minutes into the class, I scan, spy, study the faces of the men to see whose eyes are glossed over, who is nodding off; then, when I spot a perp, I look to see if his wife's face is conversely attentive and full of the glee that only a woman can feel when she knows her man is participating in an intimate conversation with witnesses. There's this theory I have about men being forced into doing things by their wives all over the world and this seems like a good opportunity to test my theory.

Usually the men say nothing. But this Monday night was different. After one mother revealed that she has been breastfeeding her son for 3.5 years, a blast of consciousness spread across the husbands' faces as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on their laps (she shared with us that her biggest problem is social pressure, of course, like the time recently when her nearly four year old boy ate a chocolate bar at the beach and followed it up with some tit milk in front of horrified onlookers). The men suddenly had lots of questions and things to say. So did I. When we were leaving, in fact, I told Amber, "There is no way in hell we're breastfeeding for more than a year. Period."

Birth classes bring couples closer through communications like this, I guess.

So it was only natural on Tuesday morning that when Amber told me we had yet another, different birth meeting scheduled for Tuesday night with our "practicing" midwives -- yes, Birth Team Alexander is now up to 10 people and one dog: 1 advisory midwife; 2 practicing midwives; an OBGYN; neonatal doctor; lactating/breastfeeding specialist (gotta have one of those!); Amber's sister who is anurse; the maid; us -- that I would politely ask, "Why on FUCKING earth are we having another birth meeting? Please tell me there's a reason for this."

I admit that Amber never satisfied me that this meeting was necessary or helpful, but she insisted it was required, and that the two midwives want to drink tea with us, discuss the birth, talk about things they would need in the house, etc.

Fine. I went.

We sat on the floor (surpirse), drinking tea and eating high-fiber cookies, and about 90 minutes into what was nothing more than an emotionally charged bullshit session on how wonderful natural childbirth is, we started in on war stories, complete with graphic pelvic photos, videos, and the typed story of Valeria and Juan's birth experience, which one of the midwives started to read.

I followed along as best I could in Spanish. While some of the more subtle details escaped me, the role of the husband in the birth did not. I was all ears, asking the midwife to repeat the parts I missed. For example, did the mother really say that Juan while was massaging her sacrum she could feel another round of red-tinted mucous sliding down her leg? Did Juan really massage, hold, clean, caress for 5 consecutive hours?

These parts had to be repeated.

Unfortunately, while I asked for them to be repeated so that I could get a clearer picture of what I might need to skillfully escape during the birth process, the midwives misinterpreted my questioning, and at the conclusion of the birth story began asked me how I visualized my role in the natural birth and then stared at me, judging, waiting, eager to know if I was prepared to go as far or further than Juan. When I stalled, they figured I was needing help with my Spanish, and produced photos of Juan cutting the umbilical cord himself, wife exposed, covered in birth gook.

"How beautiful!" They exclaimed. "Do you see yourself being like Juan??"

Three pair of eyes were trained on me, watching, judging.

I was sitting on the floor for my fourth hour in the last 24. I spaced out and wondered if the vibrating text message I just received on my mobile phone was from DirecTV, who had been calling all day to schedule installation of my NFL Sunday Ticket package, which provides all NFL games for all 32 teams, all season. I turned my attention back to the women watching me and thought maybe the midwives would fire us and not work with us if I somehow messed up my answer.

"Si!" I exclaimed, and a chorus of "que lindos" (how beautiful!) poured out of the midwives and one of them clutched her heart with both hands (not making that up), and I was safe.

That is, until the midwives explained we would be having these 2-hour meetings once a week for the next 8 weeks until the birth."

The A Team

2008-08-27T07:46:00.000-07:00

Olga (left) and Laura (rt) are the latest additions to the Alexander Birth Team here in BA. Hugh laughs and says now that he won't rest unless we have at least 10 people in the house for "D Day".

After literally months of interviewing OB's, midwives, doula's, attending birthing classes and workshops and talking to anyone who would recommend their medical team, we finally found "the ones". More than once, I've been told we did an "exhaustive" search with raised eyebrows. Well, its said people in the states spend more time picking out a new car than the professionals that will be with them through the birth of their children. Not true for us. So here's the lineup for our homebirth:

Olga and Laura: they are a midwife team. They'll come first when I've had two hours of contractions consistently. As they've told us many times, they could end up hanging around the house for anywhere from 5 - 18 hours after that call. They drink a lot of mate. Olga is the more experienced mother type. She's been a midwife for 30 years. Laura is the younger, energetic assistant. She has "buenda onda" as we like to say here which means I liked her vibe and could imagine her not bugging the crap outta me in the house for hours. They also attend births without the need of an OB but work according to the desires of the couples. In our case, we decided to hire an OB that also has access to the hospital Clinica La Trinidad four blocks from our new apartment just in case we need it.

Guillermo Lodeiro aka "Tito": everyone in Argentina has a nickname. He's known as Tito to his friends and colleagues and now to us. He's our obstetrician. A friend from my prenatal yoga class recommended him, also the american trained doula friend we met worked with him and gave him high marks. We met with him and he spent an hour with us detailing the 30 year history of the natural childbirth movement in Argentina along with his role in it. It was illuminating and also amusing when he added his own son's birth to the timeline. He engendered our trust immediately and also gave me the most thorough exam I've had so far. Olga/Laura will call him when I'm at 8-10cm dilated - basically at the very end when I'm ready to push. Tito will come with a neonatal doctor - Hugo Guzman. Also well known and respected in the world of natural births here. He's also a pediatrician. His role at the birth is to see that the baby is a-ok once she comes out.

Maria Nogues: argentine born, US raised and educated. She's a doula (US certified). Argentines don't know much about the concept of doula here because they have their families close so not much need for this kind of support. Maria is also a lactation specialist and consults for an Argentine company that manufactures bottles for children born with cleft-lip syndrome. She's our post-partum aid. She'll come once the baby is born to help me with breastfeeding and also help us set up a new schedule with all of the adjustments. When we first met her she drew a diagram of three circles, explaining with arrows that while the first two circles (me and Hugh) used to take care of each other, now I am taking care of a new circle (Valentina), so Hugh will need to take care of me. His face fell when he realized there were no other circles to take care of him and his role is going to shift dramatically. She also knows all of the people we interviewed in the process of finding a midwife and OB so helped us sort out the pros and cons of each.

Sis Rachel: Nurse Rach will arrive the week of October 6th and stay till the end of the month. My due date is the 20th but two psychics and my own intuition tell me Valentina will come a week or so early. Rach will be with me throughout labor so I am not scared or worried about anything medically that could come up (of course she's not a midwife but I just feel better knowing she's coming). Also the midwife team needs someone to drink mate with while I'm doing squats and groans in the other room.

Marta: Our housekeeper mentioned last week that she wants to be here to help yell "PUSH" "APUJO!". She's the closest thing to family we have here so we'll probably add her to the party parade. Another mate lover.

Utta: She won't be allowed in the baby/birthing room but will of course be nearby. She knows something is up and is being extra protective and clinging on me these days. She takes long deep sniffs of my belly. Olga tells me in her experience the pets around at homebirths have a sense of what the woman needs and tend to stay very quiet and still once labor starts.

Hugh: Last but not least. I've assured him at no point will he have to be "in front" of the action with the potential of being exposed to an enlarged vagina or head coming out. He started out wanting to wait "in the hall of the hospital with a cigar". Now he is looking forward to the homebirth party and involvement sans blood and bodily fluids. We'll save the gore for the midwives and my sis.

Clinica La Trinidad: This hospital is just four blocks from our new pad. Dr. Tito attends 90% of his births here (the other 10% at home) so he's comfortable and familiar with their protocols. They are much less conservative than Hospital Aleman (where we are insured but limited to using their doctors) and are the preferred choice for most of the argentine and american friends I know. Going to La Trinidad is our "Plan B". Of course we'll pay out of pocket but the total cost of the birth would still be one-fifth of the cost of having the baby in the US.

Whew! I think we're ready.

Los Olimpicos

2008-08-18T05:13:00.000-07:00

We're staying up late every night to watch live coverage of the Beijing Olympics. It's quite a different experience from the US as Argentina doesn't have the medal potential (thus incentive) to cover every second of swimming and gymnastics. So, they flip around to all of the other events of the games and we get to see more variety. Who knew there were olympic level table tennis matches? fencing? The biggest deal here (aside from the obvious soccer) really is the female hockey team - Las Leonas. So far, they are winning all their matches and in a good place to make the finals. Most Argentine girls - even the sissy ones play hockey - a fairly studly sport so its not unusual to see hoards of 12-14 year olds walking down a neighborhood block with hockey stick in hand on their way to practice late weekday afternoons. Hugh already dreams of Olympic Gold for our Valentina some day...

La Bourgogne

2008-08-13T05:13:00.001-07:00

Last night Hugh took me to the fanciest french restaurant in town La Bourgogne to celebrate my descent towards middle age. I don't know if this place is 5 star rated but its part of the Relais Chateaux family of establishments and the official restaurant of the Alvear Palace Hotel - consistently rated one of the top ten hotels in the world. Yes, fancy fancy. Beyond the food - which was of course very french and outstanding - full of light and crusty bread thingies, sauces and in between course palate refreshers, the service wowed. No fewer than five peguined english speakers surrounded our table each time a course was delivered or retrieved. I told Hugh this week that I wanted to go to dinner at a really nice place - nice enough to wear this maternity frock I purchased with Joni back in March assuming I'd wear it to Rachel's wedding. At month five, I wasn't big enough to wear it to the wedding but at 30 weeks I filled it out just fine. I squeezed my sausage feet into a low pair of heels and clung to Hugh's arm for balance as we exited the lobby of our new apartment building. A rare grown up moment so it was special and fun. Other than the culinary outing I spent the day doing my favorite things - sleeping in, prenatal yoga class, cooking lunch, taking a nap, skype call with my sis, a sunny stroll to the plaza with Utta, a bit of writing and a mid afternoon candlelight bath. A luxurious leonine birthday.

Colors

2008-08-06T19:41:00.000-07:00

Last week I brought my camera to painting class. My teach Ada is working on a new canvas of turqoise and yellows that I think is beautiful but she finds lacking. Maria-Vanessa, her other student just finished up an earnest abstract of gray tones and vibrant brick reds. Both inspire me to work harder and practice patience. Maria-Vanessa's canvas evolved no fewer than three times over the past months. She started out with this idea to use masking tape to create rectangles, triangles and squares. The colors were well developed but she hated the rigidity of the lines. So she started painting over the shapes and brought in new shades of red and black. I was scared for her at first not knowing how it would turn out but Ada was confident and led her in just the right direction. While painting, we three chat about the latest Christina Kirchner snafu, their grandchildren and of course how to mix color. Half way through the 3 hour session, we pause for tea and a dessert - usually the Argentine favorite cheesecake with fruit sauce or dulce de leche.

The other side and Previa-free

2008-08-06T19:13:00.000-07:00

Monday I went to see Dr. Engel at the German Hospital for my monthly check in and to get an updated ultrasound. Great news! The placenta has moved. Well, not really. As Engel told me "placentas don't have feet". My uterus grew in such a way that the placenta is now up and far away from the cervix so no more worry or danger of it getting in the way of baby coming down the chute. Yes, a big relief. Now we are all systems go for a natural water birth in the woods with witches and incense (:

Here's a pic of me yesterday in a classic maternity "outfit". Yoga pants, extra long tank to cover the frontal and backside expanding bumps, and some kind of knit sweatery thing. Hugh is so tired of this look and all of my other non-sexy attire (eggplant purple full length terrycloth robe, baggy sweat suits, and shirts with built in bras (think opposite of Wonder). But, as my prenatal yoga teacher said to me yesterday..."welcome to the other side of pregnancy". I was lamenting how smooth and easy (even enjoyable) the first six months had been. Then, bam! In just over a week I've got non stop heartburn that cuts into the top of my ribcage regardless of whether I have a glass of water or a slice of pizza and chronic sacral low back pain. Last weekend during the move I got stuck in one of our new bean bag chairs and Hugh had to roll me over like a charred chorizo sausage on the parrilla using both hands so that I could get to my knees and stand up. With yoga, hot baths and a prenatal massage, the pain is no longer excruciating but flickers off and on from bearable to grouch-monger uncomfortable. Likely its Valentina's growing head pressing in to my sacral nerve so not much I can do about it other than avoid things that hurt like bending over, lifting anything and rolling out of bed.

Blogger facelift

2008-08-03T15:58:00.000-07:00

yes, something IS different. I changed the template for my blog. The old sage green tones were getting on my nerves and more so each time I came across a new blog that looked identical. So it goes with templates in blogdom.

We're in!

2008-08-01T17:25:00.000-07:00

Today Hugh realized his long time furniture fantasy. Two custom upholstered leather club chairs arrived in time for our first night in the new place. We found them browsing antique shops near the Mercado Las Pulgas in Palermo Hollywood a few weeks ago. They were ratty and torn to pieces - a deep burgandy leather and missing a seat cushion but the bones of beauty shined through. Hugh knew immediately he had found "the ones".

The "flete" moving truck arrived this morning and carried our bed, rugs and remaining suitcases of stuff. Even though we've lugged bags over on our own via taxi every day the past week or so, there was still a lot left to transport. After a massive de-cluttering of material goods when we left the States, we find ourselves cluttering up again. New furniture, kitchen supplies, plastic balcony chairs, organizers for the closets, appliances yahdahyahdahyahdah.

Thanks to the recent posters who cautioned me not to reveal our address on the blog. I do often forget that the information is out there for anyone to read and strangers often do. In my mind, its just my mom checking in for regular tummy shots.

Another move

2008-07-23T05:01:00.001-07:00

We are moving this week.

After a year and a half of searching for the perfect place to buy, we've decided to put that thought on hold for awhile. The economy here is of course shaky but more than that - the real estate cycle seems to be at the tippy top - never a great time to buy. Also the govt, in an attempt to regulate the price of currency is tightening restrictions on money that comes in and out of the country - including real estate transactions. New laws cropped up in the past 6 months that would make it trickier (not impossible) for us to buy and then when we sell, well that's a whole different story. They do not want foreigners to buy and flip so when we buy, we need to be damn sure we want to live there (or can rent it out) for a good long while. All of that spells commitment. Commitment to neighborhoods and sizes of places we just aren't sure about yet. I love our current neighborhood Palermo but keep wondering whether we'll want more space or a yard with Valentina on the way.

So, we took the next logical step and are renting our first long term unfurnished apartment on a two-year lease. We decided location was more important than anything else. Then came noise factor since we currently live in the front side of a corner building where 3 major bus lines converge. Whaaaaattt did you say? I sometimes scream when Hugh is a mere 5 feet away from me in the living room.

Our new place is on the Park Avenue of streets - Avenida Libertador. Across the street is Rosedal Lake and the 1 mile runners track I visit at least 4x week (walking now of course) It's just two buildings away from the US Embassy so we've joked more than a few times, that when the civil war/riots start, we can just bungee jump from our balcony to safety inside the walls of our US friends. The apartment is "contrafrente" meaning it faces the back not from front side of Libertador and is mystically quiet. We have a balcony twice the size of our current one that looks out onto the lush manicured gardens of the American Embassy. The apartment itself is nothing special but the layout is functional and almost double the size of our current place. We had the walls painted a light buttery yellow and the chesnut wood floors are in great shape.

This week we are moving a few loads over every day. From my last trip to SF I brought back our remaining rugs, window coverings, bedding and our copper pots and pans. Everything else we must buy. Feels strange starting over literally from scratch at this age. Even when I had my first apartment in college, mom and others donated a load of kitchen supplies so I never really started from nothing. The sweet upstairs neighbor Haydee has adopted me. She comes down every day with another bag of stuff she thinks will be useful but I think is mostly crap. I do adore her and appreciate the kindness but its getting ridiculous. Yesterday she brought down a grayish floor mat (some 15 years old) that her fat cat used to sleep and pee on. Not to be an ingrate, but what, exactly am I supposed to do with that? Its so foul I wouldn't even use it to clean our floors. Of course I smiled graciously and have thanked her for each and every item she's cleaned out of her storage - broken set of espresso cups, turquoise and marine blue doile, odd sized curtain rod, two tiny floral plates, a plastic salad spinner. She keeps saying she doesn't want us to spend a fortune outfitting a new place but I have a feeling we are going to end up at Jumbo (the Price Club of BA) this weekend to just get it over with.

these photos are the view from our balcony. also one of the kitchen because its more than 3x the size of our current one and has space for a table even! wheeeeeeeeee

Valentina Alexander

2008-07-22T10:16:00.000-07:00

When this Leo married an Aries, she knew they would have their fair share of arguments. Add to inevitable clash of two fire signs, the Aries is an ex-lawyer, former debate champion and the Leo is a first child, fiercely independent, with a tendency to take self-righteous stands on even the least contested of issues…..the naming of their first child seemed a recipe for months of haranging, posturing, focus-group testing and lists of pros and cons.

Instead the name, much like the easy formation of the child came out of nowhere and just stuck. Both were drawn to “V” names. He, because his dearest family member is Vince Lee. She, because, well, no reason.

So, months before she starting wiggling around the womb and growing upwards into mommy’s squished ribcage, she was and still is Valentina – 27 weeks and counting.

A pregnancy scare

2008-07-16T19:16:00.000-07:00

The short time I spent in SF included what felt like a years worth of life crammed into 7 nearly sleepless days. Spending time with Joni, visiting storage and packing up 5 suitcases of household items, preparing for the baby shower, visiting family and organizing baby gifts to travel back and being pregnant, emotional and exhausted. The final event started the day I was to fly back to BA.

I woke with symptoms of what appeared to be menstruation (never a good sign when you're 6 months pregnant). After a few teary 7am phone calls to friends and female relatives, Rachel took me to the maternity ER at CPMC. Friend Kristie called ahead and arranged for the doctor that helped her bring 2nd baby Nate into the world just weeks earlier to attend me. They did a thorough exam and sent me upstairs for an ultrasound. Kristie already had plans to be on that same floor visiting Ramesh who gave birth to twins Ariana and Farah two days before. I had to stop by their room for a hello in my hospital gown. When would we all three be together again in this scenario? me, pregnant and in for an out of town emergency, Kristie breast feeding two week old Nate and Ramesh with her brand new girls. Real surreal.

They diagnosed Marginal Placenta Previa - a condition that means for now my placenta is a bit too close for comfort to the cervix. The doc was a bit alarmist and claimed she would ck me in overnight for observation if I were a regular patient of hers but given my situation and desperation to just get and be home, she put me on bedrest for the rest of the day and said I could hop a plane the following day.

The airport scene was chaotic but ultimately manageable. Rach helped with all the heavy bags since I was instructed not to lift a finger. I "carried on" the suburban stroller (which you're only allowed to do if you are traveling with your child). Several flight attendants asked "where's your baby?" to which I replied with an impatient and irritated tone "she had to take an earlier flight with her father!". No one dared inquire further and I made it back to Argentina safely though spent. It was a turning point in this adventure. Already my daughter is the boss of me and I have no choice but to take her needs into account. Slow it down....was the message. And I have.

Showered

2008-07-16T18:44:00.001-07:00

The Saturday after I arrived in SF my sis pulled together a aptly girlish afternoon baby shower at a tea house named the Secret Garden. 12 family and friends changed their holiday weekend plans to be there in less than a weeks notice. As a surprise my mom flew up from San Diego that morning and spent the weekend (Rey quickly fled to his brothers pad in Oakland for fear of so much estrogen in the apartment). It was a truly joyous afternoon that came together at just the right time. We nibbled meringue encrusted sandwiches and cranberry scones, sipped vanilla victorian lace teas and many got to know each other for the first time. My mom and aunt CJ especially enjoyed meeting so many of my friends. Then several read stories of their births(or the births of their children). Friend Megan read a poem she wrote about the births of her two children and many closeted writers came out. Lastly I opened gifts and we delighted in ewwing and awwing over tiny pink socks and bunny hats. Yes, that's a photo of me with a double breast pump. Can't wait to get that hooked up ;: I managed to squeeze all of the baby gifts (including a suburban sized stroller) into my luggage for the trip back to BA along with 4 rugs, our drapes, some pots and silverware, linens and our wedding photos. The rest will come with our friend Vaughn when he visits next month. Welcome to the Argentine underground railroad Vaughn....

Something in the Water

2008-07-16T18:35:00.000-07:00

A festive night at Joni's with me, Rach, Rey, Joni holding baby Agreen, Carly (baby Elijah in the oven) and momma Shona.

Joni

2008-07-12T18:45:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since my last post. At first I had neither time nor inclination to do any writing. Then I just dreaded putting down in print the words, for I don't know what - cheapening the experience by trying to express what just feels doesn't have a real description. Then I go back to what I know can do - just tell the truth.

On Wednesday this week my best friend Joni died.

I knew something was wrong a few weeks ago when I couldn't reach her by phone, email or skype for three straight days. Finally when someone picked up her phone, it was her brother, in from Arizona. The cancer had advanced to her brain after behaving somewhat in her spine but starting its journey in her breasts a decade ago. I booked a flight the following day to San Francisco. We spent part of every day together save for one during my 10 day trip. Friends dropped by all the time to visit, bring food, run errands, laugh and love her. I have never been around so much love. It was a week of new life as well. Her upstairs neighbor Shona gave birth to her son Agreen two days before I arrived so visited often with him in the sling. Friend Carly was due that week and gave birth to son Elijah two days after we had a big group homemade meal.

The day before my flight home we said our final goodbyes. Nothing trite or verbose - just love and a few words. She seemed peaceful and unafraid while I was anguished and heartbroken. 10 years, many vacations and our daily lives shared keep running through my mind. The day she told me she had breast cancer when we both worked at Oracle. Trips to Italy, Vegas, Utah, Mexico, Buenos Aires. Walking together in the 3 Day Avon Breast Cancer Walk. Lounging in her sunny apartment on Sunday afternoons with the dogs running round us on a play date. Seeing every new play at the ACT during theater season. Shopping, spa-ing, oogling men. Poking fun at our similarly ridiculous corporate personas.

Tomorrow morning Hugh and I will make a celebration of Joni's life at Rosedal Lake where she enjoyed long walks on her visit last October. I don't know yet what I'll say but I'll bring bright yellow dahlias and freesias.

Baby Brain

2008-06-19T17:50:00.000-07:00

Last Friday Hugh and I were walking Utta around Rosedal lake and noticed something unusual. Bumper to bumper traffic along all three main arteries out of the city. Yes, it was friday. Yes, it was a 3 day weekend. But come on. This was odd. It was yet another series of road blockades as part of the three month long farmers protest against the new taxes imposed by Presidenta Kristina Kirchner. Over 30 blockades preventing access to every major autopista in the country. Good thing we axed plans to head out of town. Noone was going nowhere fast.

Sunday evening the boom of pots and pans clanging together, horns honking and protesters marching filled the typically tranquil skies. The melody continued for 20 or 30 minutes, getting angrier and louder by the minute. Every balcony from our window's view had at least one or two people on it banging away. I guess we missed the email announcement on this one.

The tension and frustration is palpable. All of my Argentine friends and acquaintances (and strangers, taxi drivers, deliverymen) whale on about it. They use words like "disaster", "worse than a dictatorship", "face of a witch" (reference to the President - "cara de bruja". It's serious enough that when our next door neighbors (americans living here for 6 months) considered buying an apartment, the real estate agent (risking lost commission) urged them to put their money elsewhere. "don't invest here now" she warned. "things are going to get a lot worse and you do not want your money in Argentina when it does".

Meanwhile back on planet Baby, I dream of butterflies and unicorns, paint in cheery tones of turquoise and cantaloupe, hum to myself and pet my belly all day. Sunday I spent the afternoon painting. I've graduated to canvas and am working on different kinds of brushstroke techniques. That evening while the whole of the outside world raged with wooden spoons, cast iron skillets and clenched fists, I perused and subsequently got lost on Babiesrus.com. After peeling my eyes away from the 30 different varieties of breast pump, I registered for the essentials so that friends and family could partake in a Virtual Babyshower. Ok, that pint-sized yoga sticky mat probably falls outside the "essentials" category but HOW CUTE! I had to include it. Its not that I don't care or worry about the situation and how it will be resolved. We are affected. Our groceries are more expensive. We canceled a weekend trip to Rosario because the roads were all closed. Our friends and neighbors talk of nothing else. but....There's a happy hormone running through my veins, clearly immune to the nonstop chaos, misery and injustice in this country and our own. I guess nature planned it that way so that each species would survive. I'm just doing my part.

The Party's Over

2008-06-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

Rachel and Rey fly home today. They spent a month in total here for the wedding festivities and honeymoon. Aside from their 4 day trip to Iguazu Falls, we've seen them every day. One night Rey made us Panzit (Filipino noodle dish) from the ingredients we found in Chinatown. Last weekend we rented a car to explore some of the more residential neighborhoods and wealthy suburbs north of the city. Then we took a boat tour around the islands of Tigre. It will be a rough adjustment for me no doubt tomorrow. Its been so nice having my sister so close (they rented an apt across the street), sharing daily mates and the routine of cooking meals and walking the dogs.

Tomorrow its a blank slate again. No more wedding to plan. No more visitors to entertain. Just me and my burgeoning belly hunkering down for the long cold winter. I'm wearing my warmest wool coat in the evenings now. Scarves and mittens too. I've outgrown most of my regular jeans and final appear as pregnant as I feel. In pictures of me I notice my face getting rounder and rounder like a red apple.

Last week we had the 20 week ultrasound and found out its a girl. Well, I've known since week 4 or 5. Call it mothers intuition or whatever but she has always been a she to me. She also started moving last week. The first feeling was very exciting - more of a flutter than a kick. But now she is active all day long. In the mornings before I get out of bed is when I can feel her the most. At first Hugh looked terrified to touch my belly like an alien might pop out but he is settling in to the idea a bit more each day.

Smiles, smiles, smiles

2008-05-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

The Big Day

2008-05-29T08:09:00.000-07:00

Hugh captured this image of me just outside the chapel at La Candelaria waiting for my sister to arrive in a white rose and cala lily decorated horse drawn carriage. The wedding day of her dreams in full swing. I spent the day with that mixed look of consternation and alarm - tromping through postcard imagery of castles, green pastures and lazy horses with payments to vendors, to do lists for the kitchen staff, orders for the band and 4 key cue cards for the actual wedding ceremony (the priests translator backed out last minute so I stood in).

Aside from a few minor glitches (one table missing from the reception set up, no corsages delivered for the moms, sun shrank behind the frosty clouds in the afternoon, Rachel dropped her expensive bouquet of orquids on the carriage ride to the chapel and one of the wheels ran over it) it was a perfect day and the wedding had a dream-like quality most brides strive for but - the typical Hilton rubber chicken served to 200 people you don't really know - just can't deliver.

I taught a yoga class in the morning to my sis and several others then the bridal attendants (me, my mom and aunt) settled in to the master suite in the castle for hair, makeup and photo taking. Rachel glowed thanks to six months of pre-marital 6am bookcamp classes, umpteen facials and genuine wedding day glee.

The ceremony was short but charming. The priest delivered it in Castellano and I translated the important parts (do you blah blah?). I held up cue cards so they could respond in spanish "Si, lo somos", "Si, nos comprometemos", "Si, quiero". Rachel looked straight into Rey's eyes when she was meant to say "I will/Si, quiero", but instead said "I love you/Si, yo quiero". It worked and many teared up. Rey's mother was apeased with the catholic priest and proper order of things including receiving communion. Then, it was over and we all headed to the castle for a champagne reception with a live latin jazz quartet I found on the streets of the San Telmo Fair a few months prior. The band was a huge hit and the dancing started early.

After the reception we meandered across the sculptured lawns towards the dining hall for dinner and more festivities. First came the Ballet Folklorico show and then the traditional asado feast. Eyes bulged as tray after tray of meat emerged from the kitchen. Hugh walked from table to table explaining the difference between "vacio and asado, chinculin and rinones". After dinner but before dessert the speeches started. Most were spontaneous and heartfelt. Rachel cried during most of it - always the sensivite crab. Just when the room felt heaviest Hugh delivered the most entertaining speech of all - an awards ceremony based on the absurd events and personalities of that week. We'd talked through the ideas for it a few days prior but he went to Lobos (small town near the estancia) that day to pick up a slew of accompanying gag gifts. I played Vanna White to his game show routine and delivered a big plastic butt to my aunt who fell on her ass the night of the party while dancing. My mom received miniature baby dolls for her obsession with grandchildren. Friends michelle and eileen got statues of a happy bride and groom for their blow-out girlfight the previous evening (married couple award). Rachels Dad received "extreme makeover Dad edition" tie (she'd sent him straight to the spa and for a new suit the day after his arrival) and so on. Squeals of laughter gave way to dancing. I found my second wind at 1am and boogied the bump and Angelina-esque boobs to Michael Jackson Off the Wall and other hip hop classics. What more to say?

Suicide Watch

2008-05-29T07:49:00.000-07:00

I guess its no surprise after just a few harried days my body rebelled in a most unpleasant way forcing me to stay in bed with furried friends Utta and her cousin Dudley. I followed the "agenda" starting with early wake up on Saturday and walking all day, entertaining, eating, visiting, running around and stressing over each persons issues, travel needs and inconveniences until Monday night. Auntie Brenda, Hugh and I ordered take out from Garbis - a local middle eastern place that we frequent every so often. Then Brenda and I got massages at the spa down the street. Still not sure whether it was the undercooked Keppe al horno (most likely cause), the deep shiatsu just one hour after eating, or the previous three days of nonstop entertaining. At midnight I went to bed with a tightness in my chest just at the top of my ribcage that smelled of a heartburny something. At five in the morning I woke up with wretching pains in my stomach which moved from one side to the other and up and down. I knew something was wrong but I tried to ignore it hoping that falling back asleep would just melt it away somehow. Two agonizing hours later I got up and staggered in to my aunts room in tears - sure that something was wrong with the baby. Panic set in. She calmed my nerves and laid me down in her room but the pain wouldn't stop. Twenty minutes later I dashed to the bathroom and vomited what seemed like four full meals. Made two more such ladylike excursions to the porcelain god that morning before I finally accepted the truth - I was sick and out of commission for the day. It was a great disappointment as we were scheduled to take the train to San Isidro for my sisters hair and makeup trial. I made a half-hearted attempt to dress and my mom, sister and aunt put me back to bed with stern warnings to rest. The dogs stayed with me all day and when Hugh got home he said it looked like we were all on "suicide watch". There was a party for all the wedding guests that night that I had to miss too but by the next day the episode had passed and I got back on the wedding wagon.