Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Butt Licker

Chino and I thought it would be a bright idea to buy a puppy about a month before Daisy was born and we needed better security for the house so we bought the baby pit bull.

Remember him?

We never came up with a better name so his name is officially "Pooper."

Speak of the devil he sure does enjoy a good poopy diaper now and again when he can secret one away. Truth be told he'll eat nearly the entire thing - poo, gel, plastic and all - everything except for the velcro tabs. Don't get all freaky-outy on me about it, it's not like I give them to him or anything, he's just sneaky. He's probably ate 10 or so in the past three months and he's not dead yet so I'm choosing not to flip my gourd about it.

The other day while I was changing miss poo-piggy I turned my head for all of 2 seconds to grab a fresh baby wipe and when I turned my head back I was surprised - and yet not so much - to see Pooper licking my baby's pooey little butt.

I didn't a picture of the butt lick but Chino did accidentally get one of Pooper licking the soap off of Daisy's head when I was giving her a bath.

He's a helpful one right?

He'd clean her from head to toe if I'd let him but we keep it to a little hand or foot slurp once in a while to make him happy. Today he might have got in a good face lick or two when I was playing with her on the floor but she survived, and I don't think she'll croak over a little dog slobber once in a while.

It makes my heart happy to see him be so good with her - he's still hell on wheels when it comes to Chino or I but with the baby he backs it on down about 1,000 notches or so - it's kind of amazing to tell you the truth. I think they'll be the best of pals growing up and I know she'll have quite the defender if she might need it.

(p.s. we had a lot of clean laundry piled up on our couch o.k.? I'm not a fan of folding.) Aaaaaaand a can of formula and a baby gym - we're new parents, give me a break and just look at the dog.

The chihuahua cracks me up when it comes to the baby - she doesn't want anything to do with her but if anybody besides Chino or I goes near her she warps into attack mode. It's not so much that she's protecting the baby but the fact that she knows that the baby is MINE and she'll go to great lengths to protect that ownership. Loyal little thing to say the least. :)

The cat understands that the baby is human but not that the little human is unable to pet her. She'll do the head butt - head rub - little dealie that cats do when they want to be petted - on Daisy's head or where ever else she can rub up on before I flip out and shoo her away. Yesterday I watched her purr and rub all over Daisy's blanket begging to be patted - I fear Kitty's not so smart.

All in all we're quite the happy family - lots of poo and patting and reassuring - but happy none the less.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Cross Your Fingers - Homeopathic in Mexico

When I was pregnant with Daisy my allergies - dust, mold, cats, dogs, latex - totally went away. It was a MIRACLE and I was hoping they wouldn't come back after I gave birth.

Buuuuut, not so much.
Actually they've got worse if you can imagine and my mold allergy is so severe that Claritin and even allergy shots have stopped working for me. For the past month I've actually had to sleep in our extra bedroom away from Chino and the baby because the mildew in our bedroom is trying to KILL me.

Chino bleached the whole room for me and even washed my entire closet of clothes but I think the little mold spores got into the mattress or something. Whatever the case if I spend more than 15 minutes in there I'll end up wheezing and on my way to not being able to breathe - AT ALL.

Crazy right?

:) The good news there though is at least Chino missed me too much and has moved into the spare bedroom with me. We're on the floor - lol with the baby next to us - but at least we're together. :)

ANYWAYS. Chino's aunt swears to God that this special doctor she goes to CURED her asthma with some special drops that she took under her tongue a few times a day for about 3 months or so.


I can't grasp it and my westernized brain just won't let me believe it - there has to be SOME sort of explanation - like she never really had real asthma - but she swears it and her kids do too so. . . . huh.

Chino's been bothering me for a couple of months to go see this witch doctor and I've been stubbornly swatting him away. We got into a bit of a verbal tryst about it last week and it seems that his feelings might be getting hurt by me not giving in to him so - FINE - off to the kook I went.

He was actually a very nice man and seemed knowledgeable enough. And unlike my husband he reacted quite well when I asked flat out "How is it that you can cure my allergies if the United States of America can't?" "Why don't they use these medicines in the U.S.?" At one point I even blurted out "No Manches" which is the Mexican form of "Whatever" or "No way" to the man and he just smiled at me.

Meanwhile Chino was shitting his pants.

It got a little weird when he examined me. He looked in my eye's throat and then simply asked me to take off one of my shoes and socks.

He wanted to see my nakkid foot?

What the hell right?

It turned out that he had some weird little electro-measurement-device deal that looked like it came from a Frankenstein movie and he asked me to hold on to a copper tube connected to some wires, a pointer stick and the machine. While I held the copper tube he touched each of my toes and fingers with the pointer stick and watched the meters on the Frankenstein measurement box go up and down.


He didn't say much about it - I guess my battery is charged enough? He asked me a few more normal questions, wrote me a prescription and said that if I take the drops faithfully that my allergies will not only go away temporarily but that they will never come back.



Much to Chino's relief I'm taking the drops faithfully 3 times a day and waiting for something to happen. It's been 3 days and I've not seen any improvement but I guess we'll wait and see. I Googled the ingredient on the label so at least I know I'm not ingesting uranium or anything freaky, just some stinging nettle concentrate - yummy.

Any of you all have luck with Homeopathic medicine?

Wish me luck :)

(and to not grow a third eye please)

Monday, March 22, 2010

Not Jack To Say

Last week I deleted a past post on which I wrote about the drug violence we've got going on down here - there seems to be some retaliation on unauthorized news reporting going on and I'd like to keep my head attached.

The thing is though that ever since I took it down I haven't been able to think of anything else to write about. It's like that "Don't think about an Elephant" thing and I've ended up coming here to my blog and staring at a blank "New Post" page every day this week and eventually just shutting the computer down in frustration.

It pisses me off that I should be afraid to write about certain subjects, but for my heads safety and for Daisy I've got to do what's safe. Americans are used to freedom of speech and I'm bucking like a stubborn mule trying to get over it.

I'm muley on good days damn it.

Ah well, maybe sharing the frustration will get things moving again, like . . . a verbal laxative.

I don't feel the urge to poo yet.


Nope, no poo.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Baby Dancing

Here's one for my Mom :)

The Teapot Song

I didn't adjust my web cam so it's fuzzy and goofy and you can't hear it very well but it gets the point across. It's Daisy and I doing her little dance to "I'm a little teapot." It looks silly and like I'm just throwing my poor baby all over the place but the thing is - she likes it. It'll even make her stop crying sometimes and for that, it's worth more than gold.

Mom, just click the triangle "play" button. :)

(And p.s. for some reason the sound isn't matching the video so the dance looks a little odd and not with the lyrics. But, you get the point :) )

P.SS. - Thanks Amanda! :)

Sunday, March 14, 2010

I suck donkey balls and she sucks my . . . finger.

Colic? Who knows. Too cold? Not so much the cause. Over fed? Not anymore. Gas pills and special bottles - check. None of these are truly the problem because it comes down to the plain fact that I suck donkey balls at making my baby feel good.
I feed, change, rock, sing, coo, dance, walk, put her in the stroller, make sure she's dressed right ect. but for some reason I can't seem to put my baby at ease enough to fall asleep. Do you KNOW what happens after a baby has stayed awake for 4 hours trying to go to sleep? Any idea how frustrated and sad the poor little screaming thing can get? Shit.

Why doesn't she feel comfortable enough with me to fall asleep? Does she know that I threaten to give her to the neighbors? Does she know that I never wanted children before her? Is she a genius baby and therefore understands when I lovingly call her "Shitty baby," "Junky baby"and say "Mommy is going to run away?"

I've drove (driven?) my baby to her Gramas house every day for the past 4 days because the moment she lands in her gramas hands she's out like a light. I copy her Grama's hold at home and even stand in front of the mirror to make sure I've got it right but she always puts her little hands on my chest and pushes me away like I've got the stink eye.

Do I smell? I totally just did a deod check and I don't smell so why can't she stand to be near me? Does she remember somehow that I'm the evil person who makes her take baths and changes her clothes? (Dear lord do all babies get so pissed when you change their clothes?)

Am I ulgy?
Bad breath?
She's offended by swearing?

Is it possible for a newborn to reject it's mother? I'm not googling that, please don't let me google that.


I take deep breaths and think happy thoughts and try to be relaxed so that she won't feel my stress. Maybe I'm trying too hard? You know like the beginning of a weird relationship where one person goes all psycho and stalker-y and tries so hard that it freaks the other person out? Or maybe I'm not trying hard enough??


The only thing I've found that she likes is my pointer finger. She won't take a pacifier but she loves to suck on my pointer finger. Do you have ANY idea how long a 1 month old can stay awake sucking on a mothers finger?? 1 hour last night, 1.2 hours at 3a.m. and 1.5 hours this morning at 9:30a.m. She'll be half awake the whole time just a sucking away while I sit cramped and retarded and having to pee because I can't move or she'll cry. She tries to fall asleep but will wake up just before drifting off and look up at me like "Oh shit, close one, the scary clown lady might have got me in my sleep. WHEW. Suck suck suck. Stare stare stare."

She'll like me when she get's older right? Or should I just cut my hair? Maybe wear a wig? More makeup. . . ???

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Screw Self Help - Just Be Poor

This post on what going through a poor spell isn’t a woe-is-me post, so if you feel like reading it know that I write with a happy heart. J

When is a person for REALLy poor anyway? Chino and I are most definetly under the poverty level as far as earnings go and this past month if II hadn’t received food stamps we truly would have had to go without . But for the life of me I don’t FEEL poor. We have a car for heaven sake so how can we be poor? Plus, we managed to scrape together the $$ to pay for our internet bill so come on, it can’t be that bad right? Granted, to pay our Internet bill we had to agree that we would be sacrificing going out to eat or renting any movies or buying. . . anything, but what’s wrong with a trade off? Are we poor because we don’t have cable or cell phone plans or the ability to “go out?” Who the hell with a newborn has the time to go out anyways???

I’m babbling, let’s move on I had a ooint.

Ah yes. I started working when I was 14 at the local Dairy Queen and I’ve never not had a job since. Unfortunately I had a bit of a saving problem and’ve ended up spending every penny I’ve ever earned. I used to buy self help books on how to plan for the future and save money and live smarter –(buy to save, brilliant) but they never inspired me to save even a penny.

I used to go to the store when I was bored or upset or happy and give myself a little “treat spree” to make myself feel better or celebrate being happy. Going on a date? I needed new clothes, shoes, makeup, hair supplies, lotion, perfume and gum. Headed out for a night with the girls? I needed the same list of stuff. Job interfiew? Same. I speant endlessly on makeup and face lotions and potions always looking for the newest wrinke/pimple/brightening cream or the newest and greatest lip gloss or mascara trend. I bought books full price by the basket and was always picking up games and trinkets to keep myself amused if I ever God Forbid had a quiet moment and could have become – BORED. I loved to buy for others as much as myself so when birthdays holidays and plain ole my-friend-needs-a-cheer-up came around, I surely didn’t skimp.

Luckily I never got into credit cards, I merely spent it as I earned it. Fast forward to meeting Chino and everything was still the same, we both had good paying jobs and thought nothing of buying what ever we wanted when we wanted it.

Then, Kaboom. He was deported and I ended up following him to Mexico. Where he earned in a week what he used to make in half a day and I couldn’t find a job at all. My lack of Spanish speaking skills limits me and I’ve been working for min. wage ever since we’ve been here. We went from what ever when ever to not being able to buy Christmas presents or go out to eat. It was a bit of a shock to say the least but I think with all of the other Mexico culture shocks hitting us we didn’t have much time to care. We were too busy trying to hustle and stay

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Naked and Eating Cheetos

I came downstairs from a nap last night to find my baby on the couch, not wearing any pants, propped up watching Mexican soap operas and with what appeared to be a drunken milk binge worth of bottles strewn at her feet.

Nice. Nobody can ever say that hillbilly's do not exist in Mexico.

The very first thought to run through my head was "Damn, all she needs is a bag of Cheeto's and she'd be one 2a.m. infomercial away from true couch potato status.

Ahhhhh that's better, teach 'em young I say.

Of course the inevatable happened - only one thing can come from a drunken milk/Cheeto/soap binge - nekkid jungle gym playing.


I came downstairs from a nap last night to find my baby on the couch, not wearing any pants, propped up watching Mexican soap operas and with what appeared to be a drunken milk binge worth of bottles strewn at her feet.

Nice. Nobody can ever say that hillbilly's do not exist in Mexico.

The very first thought to run through my head was "Damn, all she needs is a bag of Cheeto's and she'd be one 2a.m. infomercial away from true couch potato status."

Ahhhhh that's better, teach 'em young I say.

Of course the inevatable happened - only one thing can come from a drunken milk/Cheeto/soap binge - nekkid jungle gym playing.
Kung FU!!
Kick that butterfly's ass baby!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Dirty Hotel Secrets: Part Four

I've got good news and I've got scary alien boiled egg news. Which do ya want first?

Good news! Over here at the new hoe-tell we serve a full hot breakfast and I'm incredibly happy to share with you that unlike in a hotel where they serve continental (even though it may have waffles) breafast, a place with hot breakfast needs to actually be inspected by the health department. YYAAYY!!! This place is so much more sanitary that I don't have guilty nightmares anymore about feeding people killer mold and staph bacteria and o.j. made with mexican ground water. It's a nice change of pace.

Still though, still don't drink the milk. I don't take care of the milk clean up anymore but I have a sinking feeling that they're pouring the old back in with the new just like the other place. Seriously people, don't EVER drink milk unless it comes from your own refrigerator. Just. . . don't.

Now, for the fun part - scary alien eggs. I noticed the first day that they serve a big ole bowl of boiled peeled eggs here and thought "Wow! What a nice touch, I wonder who does that job? What a lot of work!"

Silly girl.

I later found that the boiled eggs come from Houston, a mere 9 hour drive, and that they come in one of these. MMmmmm nothin says lovin like a big ole bucket of eggs.

Being the curious creature that I am I wondered what a big ole bucket of boiled eggs looked like on the inside and was rewarded with quite a find.

Aparently they come pre-peeled and float around in this weird ass yellow green preservative solution that gets rinsed off before being served. I'm not sure what I expected when I pried off the lid, but it sure as hell wasn't this, they're not pickled eggs, just regular. Check it out! It's pretty. I keep hoping for alien hatchlings but nothings shown up yet, but just in case, I'm not eating one. I don't know about you bitches but I'm not down with hatching aliens in my stomach.

The use-by-date by the way? We've had this bucket going since last month and it says to use by March 20. Mmmmmmm month old boiled alien eggs, scrumptious.

So yeah, no milk and no boiled eggs - cuz damn.

Side note, ever wonder how they get all those perfect shaped egg circles that come on pre-packaged salads in deli's? Check these tramps out. Yep. Back in my high school days I worked in a Deli and will never forget running across the egg-roll for the first time. I remember just staring at it for a while and then peeling off some of the layers thinking "Dear Lord this is just so wrong! Is it even real egg? How can you make fake egg? What the HELL??? Damn it there's no END to this thing! Where's the smooth shaped END???" But there never was one. *shudder* I should have saved this post for Halloween. :D

Poor eggs, I don't know why we have to screw with them so much.

The Good News

Good news. How often do I bring good news here? Not often enough, I need to change that, but I've got some to share now and I'm SO THRILLED! EEEEEEEE!!! (Daisy looks happy too :D )

We started up Chino's flea market stand this past week. He's agreed to be the stay-at-home Dad but he can't agree to actually staying home and not working so we set him up a shop in one of the big flea markets. We thought what the heck, he might make us a few pesos after the rent of the shop space (hopefully!) and I'd be happy because Daisy could be with her Daddy all day and I'd know she'd be happy and cared for.

We worked our asses off, Chino building tables from scrap wood, setting up shop and me going like a mad woman all week shopping the other side for 5-8 hours a day scrounging and searching out the best vendors and deals and learning where to find what for the cheapest. I am all of a sudden so happy that I've been working in hotels the past year because it's honed my ability to bargain (Hotel rates are not fixed rates and we work to charge you the most we can!) and all of a sudden I find myself this insane bargaining queen!
I buy all of our wares in the U.S. because with the exception of vegetables - we can buy avocados without going broke in Mexico - certain things (electronics, clothes, shoes, toys, ect) are WAY cheaper in the States. Isn't that weird? I always thought it was the other way around. The cheap things in Mexico are liquor, cigarettes and tacos. :D

Anyways, the results?

OH MY GAWD! Our very first week - and mind you we've never sold stuff before - we profited - profited, as in after paying back to the "bank" for the goods we sold - over TRIPLE what Chino was making in a week at his factory job! And we only sold for THREE days! SSHEEEETT!!



Instead of him working six 10 hour days he worked three 8 hour days and made over triple! While watching the baby!


Needless to say we're both ecstatic. Chino feels like a man again, I'm happy that he's happy and happy that Daisy is with Daddy.

We're quite the freaks of course, nothing new there, but I think it's good for business. What I mean is that you don't often see a man in Mx taking care of the baby while mom (white mom) works, let alone in such a public way. LOL everyone assumes that he's a single abandoned Dad. He touts Daisy around most of the day in his man-sling and is now the apple of all the older lady - and younger lady (tramps) - neighbor flea-marketers. When I've found time I've tried to hang out there with him and make my presence known so that they can see Daisy does have a loving mommy. (And dang it, that Chino has a WIFE.)

When I'm there Chino usually goes to take a break and I get to watch shop and be the seller. It's so fun! I'm as natural at selling as I am buying and I'm once again thankful for the hotel experience! Never thought I'd say that. I'm so hardened by the hotel sales work that our flea market clientele don't make me nervous in the least! And remember I only speak 1/3 Spanish!

Anyhoo, I could go on and on, I'm just so HAPPY for a change! It feels so good to have something go right for us and I know it's only going to get better. We're still so green and learning what works I know that we'll be doing even better after we really get into it.

This next weekend I'm going to hang out and make balloon animals. We won't charge very much for them - 5 pesos, kinda like .50 cents - but it will bring in a ton of people! Everybody has kids here and always bring them to the flea market so what better way to get them at our doorstep than to draw them in with a balloon animal lady! During the time that it takes me to make the balloons for their kids the adults will have nothing to do - but to check out our stuff for sale! I made myself learn how to make balloon animals years ago because I had dreams of volunteering in Childrens Hospitals, and lol, this is how I end up using the skill.

Maybe I should make them cheaper? Mexico folks, what do you think? It seems the shoppers have no problem dropping 5-10 pesos on our silly cheap-toy table stuff when their kids walk buy and spot something they want - but if they have 5 kids then would it be too much for them to spend 25 pesos on balloons? We have people coming and dropping a few hundred pesos at a time so maybe not, but I want everybody's kid to be able to have a balloon, not just the ones with money. If it increases our sales I could just do them for free. Aw hell, I don't know.


EEEEEEEEEEE !!! Did I mention I'm happy!!?? :)

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Mexican Medicine

*********Please ignore the words highlighted in green - I went to an online spell checker and it virused my post with adds somehow. I checked the html and everything but can't figure out how to get rid of it. Dickfaces, I won't go there again. And YES, those are the words I spelled wrong, I'm stoopid ok?****

Going to the doctor in Mexico can be quite a shocker for someone from the U.S. The first time I took Chino I was amazed to see that their check in procedure involves no computers or records or asking about allergies and such. It was a lady at a desk with a sign in sheet, a scale and a tape measure. There were no nurses, just the receptionist and she was the one to take height, weight and a measurment of the waist. Temperature? Blood pressure? Nope.

When it was Chino's turn we were hustled into an office with a big fat man sitting behind a desk and asked to sit down. The whole experience was no more than the doctor listening to the complaint, asking a couple of questions and sliding a prescription across the desk. He never touched Chino once.

The biggest shocker, and my favorite was the prescriptions he received. He had some sort of weird back pain that was freaking him out because he wasn't sure if it was his kidneys or actually his back, and the doctor ended up prescribing two weeks of some pills and a couple of shots.

For back pain. ??

The best part was on the way home when I opened up the box for the shots and inside found a needle and a teeny glass vial. You actually have to break the top off the glass vial (it kind of pops off and I think they used to use these in the old days?) draw the shot and give it to yourself. Or have your wife do it.


If you're wife is a big chicken *BUKAAWWWW!!!* you can go to any pharmacy here and the cashier will take you in the back, pop your vial, ask you to drop trou and stick your booty. (Is it just me or does that sentence sound dirty?) Anyways.

If you've never received a butt shot before and don't know the procedure you might get a tad confused and drop your draws to the floor, undies and all, to the surprise of the receptionist and horror of your wife screeching out "OMG pull up your pants, she only needs the top of one cheek!! SHIT!" *AHEM* You know, I mean, it could happen. *cough*


Chino went yesterday to inquire if I might be able to get allergy shots here at the farmacias and ended up coming home with one of those damn boxes filled with you guessed it, the vial and needle. Doctor? Prescription? Nah, not here in Mexico, you just tell 'em what you want and they sell it to you.

The punk said he would be happy to give me the shot, no chicken there, but I'm going to take my chances with the cashier at the pharmacy instead. I just . . . Huh uh. No. Wish me luck! :)