Traveling with a Babe.

I wasn't going to post about the 'how tos' traveling with Gabe, because I feel like I'm too often spouting Opinions and Advice, but then I got emails, messages, and comments asking me for advice - so, here I am with Lists! And Advice! And Opinions!

This summer, we've traveled to the beach, the mountains, New York City, an amusement park, and several places in between. We've stayed at hotels, a beach house, and our families' homes. We spent every night for nearly three weeks away from home at the end of May/beginning of June. And we still have nine days at a cabin in Western Massachusetts and stopping to visit our friends along the way. And three weddings. We hibernate all winter, so it's time to get OUT all the time in the summer.

Disclaimer: This is reflective of our baby and what works for us. Results may vary. 

On to the How Tos!

Have low expectations. Expect your baby to cry constantly. Expect to have no downtime. Expect the hotel to be loud. By setting the bar low (not being pessimistic, that's another matter), you'll be pleasantly surprised at how easy it all is. How much you can still do, even with a wee one.

Just do it. Yes, it's a little scary to think about changing your routine with a baby. I was nervous before we took our first trip that involved a hotel (thankfully, my husband talked me out of it).  I get it. The fear of it not going well is almost enough to not go. But it's totally worth it. Don't let your fears stop you. If you are super anxious about it, try just one night in a hotel a few hours from home to test things out. If it's awful, you can drive home. Chances are, your baby is probably more flexible than you give him credit for! Let him surprise you.

:: Bringing Stuff ::

Less is More: You're going to be bringing a lot more stuff when you start traveling with a baby. But try to restrain your inclination to bring EVERYTHING WHO KNOWS WHAT COULD HAPPEN!? If you won't definitely need it and you can easily buy it where you're going, leave it at home. Sure, your baby might start teething while you're gone - but can't you just buy some baby medicine if that happens? The first time we traveled, we brought tons of his toys, the second time? A small tote full.

Think it Out:  What do you need for each part of his day at home? To sleep, we bring Gabe his seahorse, his sound machine, and a Boppy pillow. Sure, it seems like a lot, but it makes bedtime SO MUCH EASIER when his familiar things are there. When we went to the beach, I thought ahead and brought our little camping tent to corral Gabe in on the beach (and off the beach, as it turned out). Thinking through what you'll be doing helps you narrow down what to bring, instead of bringing tons of stuff that you won't end up needing (liiike, lots of fancy clothes on a beach vacation where you live in shorts and tank tops 24/7) (Want more inspiration for packing lightly? This.)

:: Sleeping ::

Flexible Sleeping Arrangements: Sometimes we all shared a bed. Sometimes Gabe and I shared a bed while Mike slept in the other. Sometimes Gabe slept on the floor. Sometimes Gabe slept in a Pack-n-Play.  Many times Gabe slept in his stroller. Lots of times Gabe slept in his car seat while we drove.

In a Hotel: Sleeping all in room (with nowhere else to go) poses a challenge. We went to bed at the same time - around 9:30 or 10, a little earlier than we're used to, a little later than Gabe is used to. Otherwise, we'd have had to get an extra room and put Gabe in it ($$!) or sit awake in the dark after he goes to bed. Not so much.

Naps: Depending on the nature of your travel, your baby may get normal naps or may nap in his stroller. At the beach house, Gabe was able to take a solid nap or two a day in his Pack-n-Play. In NYC, he napped in his stroller off and on. He was fine either way - as long as he got roughly the same amount of sleep each day. We did not really plan around naps, because Gabe is flexible and usually naps whenever and where ever. You might not know till you try!

:: Eating ::

Nursing: I finally conquered my fear of nursing in public in Central Park - I just...had to nurse Gabe and had nowhere to do it. I also nursed in a tea shop, on park benches, lots of times in the front seat of the car, and in more bathrooms than I care to admit. He's at an exceptionally distractible stage, now, so he pretty much needs to not see or hear anything to be able to nurse.

Solids: We brought a jar or two of baby food for while driving, and some baby snacks (these are Gabe's favorite of all time), but we largely fed Gabe what we ate, in slightly mashed form. It is far easier than packing along a dozen jars of baby food. 

Eating Out: We do this fairly regularly at home, so eating out while traveling is really no different. In fact, I'm not sure what to even say about it, except...it's like eating out alone, just your baby is in a highchair next to you. Move everything so he can't grab it off the table. Ask for a spoon or some chopsticks for the baby to play with. You can bring toys if you want to, but I usually forget to and just give him a menu or keys or something to play with. Babies aren't picky. Give the baby some of your food. C'est tout.

:: Pooping ::

Cloth Diapering: If we'll have access to a washer and dryer, we cloth diaper while traveling. Gabe has only blessed us with blow outs when he's in disposables, so that's incentive enough! As is saving money. We love to not have to buy diapers. Cloth swim diapers are also the way to go!

Diaper Changes: Again, prepare to be flexible. Many, many bathrooms in New York City did not have changing tables. Many, many bathrooms in other places we went did not having changing tables. At one restaurant, the waitress told me I could change him on a bench where other customers were waiting. I was afraid of getting Looks, but I just did it and avoided their gazes. We also did our fair share of diaper changes on top of the trunk or in the front seat. Not easy to navigate in such tight quarters, but it works. Parks are where it's at when changing diapers in a public space.

:: Traveling ::

Road trip! 99% of the time, one of us sat in the back with Gabe while the other drove - it made Gabe far happier when we could meet his needs and keep him company during trips. We could play with him, feed him some snacks, and help him fall asleep if he was overtired.

Public Transit: Gabe has been on buses in our city, as well as lots of subways in NYC. I mentioned before that he absolutely loved it.  And we did, too! It was easy to travel on public transportation with a baby and we got to play with him instead of worry about driving. Plus, people were REALLY NICE to us because we had a baby. Sometimes we brought his stroller on (this is what most locals seemed to do), but most of the time we held him and packed up his stroller until we got downtown and wanted to walk around.

:: And, ALSO ::

Time Alone:  If you're traveling with lots of family members, it's awesome because they'll want to play with your baby. But it can also be tiring to have no alone time with your little family. Be sure to get out a few times for a walk, a trip to the grocery store, or out to dinner with just your little family. For your own sanity. And your baby will probably appreciate it, too. 

Baby-Proofing=Your Eyes: Chances are, you won't be able to make your hotel room/beach house/in-laws' house completely baby-proof. This will require lots of watching your baby, then taking a photo when he does this:

Seriously, though, I completely underestimated how hanging out with a baby in a hotel room would involve not wanting him to crawl on the floor ew gross. I did let him crawl in the tub a little when I was going to the bathroom, though. You gotta get creative, am I right?  

Sand Ahoy! It will happen. Gabe would put some in his mouth, then try to wipe the taste off his tongue, getting more sand in his mouth, resulting in this face: 

Keeping him in a tent some of the time helped, so he could be in the shade and out of reach of shells and driftwood, which he liked to try and eat. Or, you know, crawl with: 

  

You'll note that our child has not been on a plane and is not a toddler. Both of those things terrify me. Of course, my friend Kelly took her daughter all the way to SOUTH AFRICA when she was, like, seven months old. She is basically Super Mom. Also, check out Ginger's helpful post about traveling with little ones!

Anything to add, traveling mamas? Any questions?

Gabriel Goes to the Beach.

When I was growing up, my family took yearly trips to were to the beach with my extended family. I looked forward to sharing a giant beach house with a dozen aunts, uncles, siblings, parents, and grandparents. I looked forward to spending hours learning how to make friendship bracelets from my aunts. I looked forward to packing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to take to the beach each morning. I looked forward to eating those tiny boxes of cereal for breakfast. II even looked forward to getting a pound of sand in my bathing suit from sitting at the edge of the shore.

I still love the ocean.

I love the sound of the crashing waves. I love the heat that radiates from the clear skies. I love digging my feet into the sand while I read book after book at the beach. I love the expansiveness. I love how life is slower and days are longer and there is nothing my to do list but reading and relaxing.

I spent a semester in Hawaii my sophomore year of college (rough life, right?). I worked at an ice cream shop on Waikiki Beach and during my breaks, I'd go to the pier and lie down on the wooden planks, soaking up the sounds of the crashing waves. The ocean soothes me.

Except when there's a baby at the beach. (And also, baby aside? I am becoming my father because I JUST CAN'T STAND THE SAND. It's EVERYWHERE.)

It was a lot of fun, but certainly not quite relaxing: sand-coated baby crawling around on the beach trying to eat seashells. He had a love-hate relationship with the ocean, as well.

I contemplated writing a post about how to go to the beach with a baby or a post about cloth diapering on vacation (including cloth swim diapers). But in the end, I decided to go with the photos. Because, really, don't you love being forced to look at someone else's vacation photos?

Here, LOOK: *shoves photos in your face*

My little Gabriel.

The beach corral (our camping tent), cousins, and a tiny banana for a tiny baby. :)

Tie-dying fun. And chalk art.

The beach is tiring for my little man. :)

He loved running towards the ocean. And away from it. Kid just thinks he can run.

Gabe's cousins.

Mama and Papa time. Melty heart.

Oh my word. The way he looks at his papa...

Apartment, Sweet Apartment.

My, oh my.

We are finally home from nearly three weeks away from our little apartment and I am elated.

I looked back at the post from a month ago when we first went on a little vacation, and laughed. We spent ONE night in a hotel. ONE. And I was all, "We're flexible! Yippee! But glad to be back home." Ha. HAHAHAHA. 

Three weeks of changed routine later...I think now I can legit say that.

What has happened in the last three-ish weeks?

- We went to Asheville, North Carolina and I lost my wallet for the first time. Which I told you already. Gabe went swimming for the first time, we ate a lot of food, and saw friends.

- We went to the beach in South Carolina and stayed in a beach house with eleven other family members. I have yet to tell you about this -but Gabe experienced sand, the ocean, and tie-dye.

- We house-and-cat-sat for my parents. Giant house all to ourselves. Fun times, aside for the scary, lots-of-places-for-murderers-to-hide business.
 
- Gabe started to become a Very Mobile Baby. Life has changed, friends. He's constantly pulling up on everything, walking while he holds on to the couch or coffee table, and giving us a run for our money. We dropped his crib mattress down, too. We haven't done much in the way of baby-proofing yet, but I think we're going to have to re-arrange our living room to accomdate Mr. Curious and Mobile. No more Mr. Lump who lies around happily.

- Summer arrived. Three weeks ago, it was cold and my summer clothes were still packed away. Now, I'm in Tevas, shorts, and tank tops. Whee! Time to pack away the sweaters.

- Baby's first baseball game. We went to an Indians game, and Gabe was in the newspaper (front page!) the next day. Baby WIN.

- I bought a super fancy new lens. Like, SUPER FANCY. I can't believe I spent this much on it, but it all came from profits from Etsy and my design work. I am serious about becoming a portraiture photographer, and it's time to put my money where my mouth it. (Also, this lens weighs 20 pounds, so I should get more buff. BONUS.)

- Gabe is 9 months old. Also: 40 weeks old, so he's been out longer than he was a fetus.

- 3 weeks of erratic bedtimes. Ready to get back to Gabe going to bed EARLY. I need it for my sanity, my businesses, and my marriage. Amen.

And, now, I'm staring down the happy circumstance of having two entire months off for the first time since high school (aside from my two-month maternity leave, because, well, that doesn't COUNT.) I have high hopes for this summer, namely: more simplifying (only driving our car three days a week...eep!), business scheming, photographing, and designing, blogging (and open up advertising opportunities), and gardening (community garden at the apartment!)/farmer's marketing, and cooking. And plenty of time with my two favorite boys, of course. Mmm, summer.

Summer Adventures, Part III: Asheville.

 Our trip to Asheville could be summed up in three(ish) words: Food, Friends, and Lost Wallet.

Food: So much goodness. Sweet potato pancakes with whipped peach butter butter. A vegetarian Havana Cuban with swiss cheese, tempeh, black bean spread, and pickles. Rooibos iced tea with local honey. Salted dark chocolate caramels. Red wine-infused dark chocolate truffles topped with a crystalized rose. Indian street food (potato samosas with a sweet chickpea stew) and chai tea. Pimento grilled cheese and cream of mushroom soup. Strawberry lemonade. A grilled sweet potato and goat cheese burrito. A peanut butter and marshmallow sundae. A delightfully flaky croissant. A bagel sandwich with arugula, swiss cheese, and egg. And plenty of coffee.


True to our vacation motto – we ate and walked. And that's pretty much it. We saw all sorts of interesting things and people and musicians. Asheville is a fun little town with a vibrant downtown. We really, really enjoyed our time there.

Gabe even got to experience a swimming pool for the first time at our hotel! :) He was unsure about his feelings on the matter. (And that top right photo is GABE KISSING ME. I love his sweet kisses so very much.)

Friends:

We had an impromptu meet up with two friends (and one husband of a friend) from college. They live in Nashville and Atlanta, so we don't get to see them as much as we'd like. It was so much fun. Gabe got to hang out with his godmother and I enjoyed getting to see Elizabeth, who is a few months pregnant with their first child. We ate, we visited the drum circle, and we walked forever in pursuit of a coffee shop that doesn't exist.

Lost Wallet: So, I lose things a lot. A LOT. But I've never lost my wallet long enough to actually have to deal with it – canceling credit cards and getting a new driver's license and all that. And I've certainly never lost my wallet on a vacation. But I did. We had $56 and no credit cards or IDs. Mike left his wallet at home and realized it 15 minutes into our trip, but I assured him I had my wallet, so no worries. Sometime between visiting a chocolate shop and getting to our hotel room, I lost my wallet and no amount of backtracking or scouring the city, parking garage, hotel, and car turned it up.

Lesson learned: have your phone number in your wallet. If someone found it, they'd have no way of contacting me. Blerg. (Thankfully, Kat spotted us some gas money and my mom broke into our apartment and overnighted us Mike's wallet.)

Despite the whole wallet fiasco, Asheville was wonderful. I'd love to go back and try even more restaurants. Mmm, food.

 Friday night drum circle. So fun and quirky.

All's well that ends well. :)

More photos here +
Summer Adventures, Part I: Dayton.
 Summer Adventures, Part II: NYC.

And now we're on day seven of our vacation, and day four of our beach vacation with the in-laws... being at the beach with a baby is quite the adventure!

Baby in the City.*

"It the diversity of choices and people, the raw urban beauty, the endless hum of possibility everywhere." - love the one you're with

Ahh, New York City.

Mike, Gabriel, and I made the trek to NYC this weekend to visit a friend from Mike’s days in Denver, and we had an absolutely wonderful time. We’d been to New York before, but only for super short day-long trips. We stayed in the Bronx for three nights, took the train into the city, and ate our little hearts out – both literally (YUM) and figuratively (so much to see!). We walked a billion miles, saw almost every corner of the city, and even got to catch up with an old friend or two.

Traveling with a baby? A breeze.

Sure, the trip was longer than we anticipated, but he impressed us with his awesome sitting-patiently-in-a-car-for-eleven-hours, willingness to bare his nether regions to the world while getting his diaper changed on many a park bench, and his laid-back, friendly ways that earned the attention of nearly everyone on the train, even a few tough looking girls who I totally didn’t expect to start cooing and waving from across the train to my little peanut.

Oh yeah, and I totally nursed him in three different parks (with a lightweight blanket over my shoulder so he didn’t suffocate). GO ME.

I learned three things from vacationing in NYC with a baby:

- To pack lightly - both for the trip and for our day trips into the city, we brought as little as possible. (Only having a diaper bag meant we weren't tempted to go shopping, either.)

- To change that diaper anywhere - it's not my fault there aren't public restrooms with changing tables!

- Acting like you know what you're doing makes people assume you do (i.e.: nursing in public, pretending you're interested in Pottery Barn just to use their nice, clean bathrooms, using the handicapped entrance to the subway for Gabe's stroller, etc.)

- (Okay, four) New Yorkers really freaking love babies. And are helpful. Stereotypes, be damned!
- (Okay, five!) Babies are going to lick subway windows. That's just going to happen. It might boost his immune system, right?

I am so glad I stepped, again, outside of my parenting comfort zone and went somewhere completely new, and a super big city, even!, with my little family.

While there, we basically walked all over the entire city and ate constantly. We are fairly casual vacationers, not so much into checking things of a list as we are just being somewhere. And eating as much as humanly possibly while being there, of course.

It's funny, because when my family traveled when I was a kid, we ate exactly two meals a day while traveling: the free breakfast buffet at the hotel we were staying at ("Eat a LOT. You won't eat again until dinner!!" my mother always warned) and once while out and about during the day. I'm sure this was to save money (five kids and all that - we were lucky to vacation, period.), but eating out while on vacation is our top priority: so many new places to try!

We ate falafel from a street cart in Central Park, frozen yogurt in the East Village with all the wealthy little middle school girls in the world, pizza from a hole-in-the-wall in the Bronx, eight different kinds of peanut butter at Peanut Butter & Co., ‘Shroom Burgers and fries at Shake Shack, challah French toast at an adorable Ukrainian diner, and knish and soft pretzels from the a street vendor. It was all delicious.

I also made about eleventy trillion Friends references. What can you do?

And, now, for photos!

A traveling we will go!

Central Park.

On le carroselat Bryant Park. He hated it, then loved it (giggles!), then was in a stupor.
(It should be noted that I looked for Tim Gunn while in New York. I did not find him.)

For lots more photos +

*Part Two of Sex in the City. Get it? Ha! I make myself giggle.
. . . . . . . .
Hey! Don't forget to enter my giveaway for $100 Babies R Us gift card on my review blog.

. . . . . . . . 

Also! I have a guest post up on Drea's blog for Apartment Month; it's about apartment living with a baby.

“This is where your mom and dad had their first relationship talk, Gabe.”

 We used to be spontaneous trip-taking people.

Pre-parenthood, I mean.

We'd wake up one Saturday morning and decide to drive three hours to the nearest Ikea. Or decide to road trip to LA just two weeks before doing it, making plans as we went. We love to go places. We love to see things. We love to do it all together. We may not have much extra money, but we prefer to spend what extra we do have on travels. (Since we *don't* have much extra, our trips tend to be domestic and drivable. My biggest dream? Someday, we'll see southeast Asia, and where I grew up for half a decade, together.)

Impending parenthood last summer meant we were hesitant to travel much, and I wondered how much our little trips here and there would change come baby.

I still wonder, to be honest. Most of me is all: “This baby is going to grow up to be adventurous! Adaptable! Resilient! He will eat what we eat! Stay where we stay! Adapt to our life! We won't over-think things or over-prepare or be stupidly anxious about traveling with him! IT WILL BE GREAT! (But also hard, sometimes.)” A tiny part of me doubts this: “He needs routine. He'll probably be lost and confused going to bed early at home, then late when traveling. EVERYTHING WILL GET SCREWED UP. Also, diapers. And nursing. And naps. Where will he take The Naps, hmmmmm?”

Saturday afternoon, Mike casually mentioned going to Dayton, the city where I went to college, where he went to grad school, where we met, where we lived our first married year, and where I spent the most consecutive years in one city in my entire life (five years, to be exact). We hadn't been down together in two-and-a-half years, and always joked that we were going to take Gabe someday to show him how he came to be.

After snagging a deal on a hotel room online, I figured it was meant to be. We packed the car within an hour of Mike mentioning the trip and we were on our way.

Yessss, see we are still able to take spontaneous trips! Do fun things on a whim! This. Will. Be. AWESOME!

Then it started raining. And Gabe got loud and fussy. And I thought I might fall asleep behind the wheel thanks to a late night and a baby that consistently wakes up before 7 am.

About an hour into the four-hour trip, my adventurous spirit was squelched, and doubt started to creep in: You have a babeee now. You can't just drag him around where ever you feel like on a whim. This trip isn't going to be worth it. You'll be tired. You won't have fun with a baby that doesn't take naps away from home well.

And, you guys?

Our little trip was awesome. AWESOME.

I fancy ourselves laid-back, easy going-type parents, so we embraced that side. Instead of enforcing his usual 7 pm bedtime, we let Gabe stay up until 10 pm and all crashed together. Instead of wrestling with a pack n play or getting a crib from the hotel, we got a room with two full beds – Gabe and I in one, Mike in the other. (Happily, or sadly?, we all slept ridiculously well. I so don't want to be a couple that sleeps separately for the baby, but perhaps for vacations?). Though, I was too uptight to let Gabe play on the floor (I am terrified of hotel room floors. Irrational fear. The germs! And scabies! And people pee on them! See? Irrational.). We changed his diaper on the front seat (what is with the lack of changing tables?), and even used cloth! I nursed him on campus in a quiet alcove and lots of times in the front seat of our parked car. We didn't bring any pureed baby food – he just ate little bits of our food. He napped in his stroller or in the car, but we weren't too particular about when he slept or didn't.

Of course, it wasn't all roses: he cried in the car inconsolably (torture), fussed and threw things off the table in a quiet restaurant, and fell asleep right before we put him in the car (inevitable wake-up. Is there anything worse?). During these times, we were all, “Never. Never leaving the house again. What were we thinking?”

But, fingers crossed, I think he'll recover from his break in routine just fine. (And good thing, since we already booked several other little trips this summer: nine days in a cabin in western Massachusetts, three nights in Asheville, North Carolina, and a week at a beach house in South Carolina.)

The trip itself? Was just what I needed. A breath of fresh air. A hug. A happy dance.

We spent the whole day yesterday galavanting around town – getting an amazing breakfast (banana pecan pancakes for Mike and chai tea french toast for me) at a cute, new little cafe; stopping by our absolute favorite coffee shop ever (so many hours spent there our first year of marriage!) to get coffee; and taking the grand tour of the entire campus. Including the house I lived in for two years, the residence hall I lived in my freshman year and Mike lived in for two years, and the place Mike and I first met.

Our first apartment together was here.

Who would have guessed six-and-a-half years ago that I'd be married to the 'cute new campus minister who plays guitar' and changing our baby's diaper in exact spot we first met? So fun. And crazy. And awesome.

Keepin' it real.

September 11, 2004 - I walked down these steps and saw Mike. :)

We grabbed some more coffee, and went to our favorite local grocery store (we have a lot of favorite food places. We are food people.) and got the fixings for a picnic. We walked a mile to a park and enjoyed a sunny meal.

Wheee!

 We went back to campus and ran into old friends and new ones, and chatted for a long while.

We ended the day by going to Mass at the best church ever, ever. The priest was my freshman year religion professor, and is the most dynamic, warm, pastoral individual I have ever met. It's the church I feel most 'home' at, and I haven't found a place that fits me spiritually since.

When the priest saw us after Mass, we got the most enthusiastic, unbridled-joy greeting we've ever received. He grabbed us in a vigorous hug, kissed Gabe repeatedly (“You have a BABY!” he exclaimed excitedly), and proudly told another parishioner, “She was the best student in my Intro to Religion class!” (SEVEN years ago. Best memory ever, right?) Before we left to drive home, he grabbed me tight for another hug and ordered us to keep in touch.

I feel so at home there. I wish that everyone could experience that sort of feeling. I absolutely adored my college experience, and adored my school.

I imagine most people have a place they are ridiculously nostalgic for, and I am lucky enough I got to spend my first mother's day with Gabe at mine.

We might not get to be the same sort of spontaneous that we were pre-Gabe, but we can still be spontaneous. And coming home? It's funny how two days away seems like a week with a baby. I happily settled into our bedtime routine: rocking Gabe, while nursing him and listening to lullabies.

Internet Friends do Indy.

(This and all photos by Erin. Except the last, which was some random guy.)

Once upon a time, I missed an epic Vegas trip. I was heartbroken, but a dear friend was getting married that weekend, and I couldn’t very well skip her wedding to meet a bunch of ‘internet friends’ without lying quite a bit.

I vowed to go the next year, and all the dear friends I’d missed meeting vowed there would be a next time. (And I made plans to meet some amazing California friends in the meantime.)

Next time, though, flights were $500 and I found myself (surprise!) nearly six months pregnant.

And so, plans for a different sort of trip was emerged. A Midwest adventure: a road trip to Indianapolis for a weekend of soul-quenching girl time.

We descended upon Indianapolis from every direction, Renee and Erin from the north, Nora from the west, EP from the south, and I from the east. I honestly can’t believe I hadn’t met these girls before- I feel like I’ve known them forever.

What do you tell people when you’re going to spend the weekend with ‘internet friends’? I told some it was a weekend trip with college friends and others, I confessed my dorky secret: I was spending the entire weekend, and sharing a bed, with Internet Friends. Yes, I had never met these people before. Yes, this is totally normal. No, they are not creepy 45-year-old men.

It wasn’t weird or awkward for one minute – it was perfect. It was comfortable and cozy and full of honest, open conversations. It was late night chats and little sleep. It was a spa day and early morning laughter. It was a surprise mini baby shower and singing "Soul Sister" in Renee's car. It was Erin's sweet accent and amazing cookies.  It was Nora's incredible kindness and always knowing ever blogger that ever existed.  It was Renee's bright spirit. It was Erin glowing and rubbing her baby bump.

It was a photo session with EP, an amazing photographer.

It was a fried food hangover.

It was a Barbie exhibit at the Children's Museum.

 It was being with four girls, gorgeous inside and out.

Can we talk for a minute about food? Because the weekend was full of delicious food. Friday night was Mug n’ Bun with homemade freakin’ root beer and FUNNEL CAKE fries (how did I not know these existed?! And don’t even mention Burger King until you’ve had these puppies.) Saturday was Thai food (Massaman curry with tofu, Thai iced tea, and mango and sticky rice) with a dear college friend and her husband who happened to be in town from Atlanta for a wedding, then a topless bar for dinner. Okay, so maybe it was a tapas bar and maybe we got goat cheese, macaroni and cheese, and other deliciousness. We rounded out the weekend with an amazing brunch at Café Patachou, where I ate croissant French toast topped with sugared walnuts and maple syrup. Yes, French toast made from croissants. Yes, it’s as delicious as it sounds.

Ladies, thank you for a beautiful weekend.

I am lucky and my soul is smiling.

The Story of Tsunami.

A really big part of me, I never really talk about on this blog. It’s odd; I’ve been writing for a few years on here, and haven’t told you much about this – save for a few times here and there. Even though it doesn't come up in my daily life, it still influences me daily.

What am I talking about? Being a third-culture kid. Growing up in three different countries. Never going to school for more than three years in one place before moving.

It used to come up every time I met someone new for a while - and still does if they ask me where I'm from and I care to go into a little bit of depth. Or if they ask me if I graduated from the high school I work at. "Nope. I actually graduated from high school in Malaysia." Pause. "The foreign country."

The further and further I get from having lived overseas - it's been seven years since I graduated high school and four years since my family moved back to the States - the more worried I am about letting the precious memories slip.

I want to remember it all - all those little moments that added up to a big part of who I am now. I want to remember staying in a floating hotel. I want to remember drinking Singapore Slings in a bar with my whole family. I want to remember rescuing a tiny kitten from the sewer.  I want to remember riding an elephant. I want to remember the Easter we had fried duck skin for dinner. I want to remember.

People ask you a great deal of questions when they find out you've lived overseas. They ask me if it was difficult. They ask me if it was tropical. They ask me why we moved. They ask me if I hated moving. They ask me if I speak other languages. They ask me why I went to college in the US. I love answering their questions. Except when they're blatantly ignorant, like the time a girl in high school asked me, "They all walk around naked all the time in Thailand, right?"

Right. With their spears and loin cloths.

Indulge me as I share my memories now and then. And, please, if you have ANY questions - ask them in the comments. I'll address in them in future posts.

It was the day after Christmas in 2004 and I was a sophomore in college visiting my family in Malaysia. Enjoying sunshine, pool time, and 90-degree weather was the perfect antidote for a tough semester of school. There was a catastrophic tsunami that day off the coast of Indonesia, and the news was coming in slowly about the tremendous loss of life.  Friends in the US emailed me and instant messaged me frantically to see if I was okay - since nearly every country in south east Asia had been affected. (Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, was blocked from the tsunami by Indonesia's north coast.) I didn't quite realize the extent of the loss yet; I don't think anyone did for a few days.

After a big dinner my younger sister, her friend and I decided to go for a walk. We walked through our neighborhood, among the big houses and their gated driveways, the narrow streets, and the perfect view of the Petronas Twin Towers. As we chatted, we heard a high pitched, tiny crying sound - a meow! We looked around, and realized it was coming from the sewer (gutter?) on the side of the street. Peering through the grate, we saw the glinting eyes of a tiny creature. Ever the animal lover, my sister insisted on going into the sewer to see if the cat was okay.

She emerged with the tiniest nub of a kitten I'd ever seen. She set it on the ground and it wobbled as it walked gingerly.

I've never been much of a pet-lover, but this little thing was adorable - so I agreed when Emmie decided she was going to keep it. Emmie is one of the most loving, sweet, kind individuals there is. (When it comes to animals, anyway. Heh.) She called my dad, a definite cat-hater, and somehow persuaded him that bringing home a cat from the sewer in Malaysia was a good idea.

Em wrapped the little furball in her shirt ("Don't touch it! It might have diseases!" I instructed.) and we trooped back home. I'm not sure who suggested it, but we named the cat Tsunami honor of the day's disaster. Looking back, it seems a bit odd or insensitive - but it fits. Tsunami joined my family's other cat, Trixie, and the two have been torturing each other ever since.

When Tsunami has psychotic tendencies and starts to attack something that isn't there, we shrug and chalk it up to her being a Malaysian sewer cat.

Who Doesn't Love Singing Mexican Cuties?

Most importantly: I survived! Hurray!

I flew to El Paso, Texas early Monday morning and spent three days in El Paso and across the border in Juarez, Mexico. Just to be clear - I didn't quite choose to go on this trip - it was a fact-finding mission of sorts. (How cool do I feel saying I went on a fact-finding mission? Very.) We're taking a group of students there in a few months and we went to see what the situation is like firsthand.

I was insanely afraid, as you might have guessed. I may or may not have cried. Twice. Maybe. I just didn't understand why we would even slightly risk our lives for no good reason.

The trip was surprisingly wonderful, though. After I realized that my heart couldn't physically beat out of my chest like it felt like, and after I got used to seeing this:

I mean, we saw a LOT of these guys lining the streets and driving around in Jeeps with their guns pointed at everyone. (Including pointing them straight at our car, which was admittedly unnerving.) Wait. Actually, I never got used to seeing this. You know how when a police car drives behind you your heart suddenly starts pounding? (Or is that just me? I have a strong aversion to speeding tickets. Even if I know I wasn't speeding or doing anything wrong, I'm certain he's hunting me down.) Anyway, imagine that feeling, only times A BAJILLION. With huge guns and Jeeps and men who never smile. *shudder*

Time for happy pictures! We stayed in El Paso with a few Mexican immigrant families - some of the kindest, sweetest women I've ever met, who had some of the most adorable children I've ever seen. This picture was taken in the room I was staying in - the Cesar Chavez room, compelete with awesome vintage mirror. I fell asleep each night with loud Mexican radio that drifted through the vents, and woke up each morning to pitter-patter of little feet and Spanish versions of children crying and fighting and taking care of each other while their mothers comforted and quieted them.

(Psst - don't mind my semi-frowny face here. It's just the way I look. Seriously. I have an uncontrollable furrowed brow issue that needs to resolve itself before it gets me into a fight someday when it furrows at the wrong person.)

We visited a lovely little school and women's co-op run by an American nun. After I took this picture, I walked over to find the first of SEVERAL dead dogs I saw in Mexico. I was seriously traumatize by the sight of its rotting head. (Uh, maybe I shouldn't share this stuff? But it was awful! I've never seen four dead dogs in one day. Wait, how did I turn a happy picture into a gross story?)

Laundry and a mountain.

A Juarez Street Corner.


The little village we'll stay in if we spend the night in Juarez. I will definitely buy a glass bottle of Coke from this guy.

And, now, prepare yourself for adorableness: (Uh, Spanish speakers - can you tell what they're saying?)

Adorable Children in Mexico. from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

After being serenaded by a group of children in a chapel that was built on an old landfill in Juarez, it was hard to feel fear. It was also difficult to look at someone who lived there and ask, "Is it safe to bring people here? Is where you live, go to school, and work - is it safe? But not for concern to help you, just out of concern for our OWN safety." I understand our obligations to keep our students safe. And, heck, I was and am concerned about my personal safety when traveling to dangerous areas. I just felt incredibly aware of my privilege when asking about violence. Because no one deserves to raise children and live in violence, and how privileged I am that I can make that choice.

As the nun from the US said, "Pray for the good people of Juarez." (And the "bad", too - but the the "bad" are really ruining it for all of the wonderful, kind, and generous individuals who work so hard everyday. They didn't choose to live in neighborhoods and cities where the drug cartels fight.)

Here are more pictures from my trip.

On a sad note, Mike's grandmother passed away while I was gone. Her calling hours are tomorrow, so I'm driving five hours there and back, just in time to fall asleep before the first day of my new graphic design class early Saturday morning. (!) Plus, Mike left for a four day conference in North Carolina early this morning, so we're apart for a whole week. I'm looking forward to a weekend that doesn't involve travel, being away from Mike, and some quality lazy time. Someday.