There's no place like... home?
30 hours after arrival and the fall out just keeps falling.
Travel with children may seem daunting, but is not so bad once you bite the bullet and just go. No, the problems come from the ineptitude of the supposed adults who are working. Granted, there were a few moments, when everything was, "mommy will you buy me a present" and "I need to pee" two minutes after you have gotten onto periférico and the flow of traffic inches you along in its swell.
Pointed and precise letter to airline about idiot's mishandling of fragile package. Done.
Trip to urgent care to address sudden and unexpected conjunctivitis. Done.
Reading and work that was squashed during three weeks of "vacation". Um... let's just not talk about that, shall we?
Unpacking and accomodation of clean clothing (yes, one more pet peeve of mine is to arrive with dirty laundry so at 1 am I was busy running laundry, while "exploring" the bodega)... not to mention the library of cine nacional (hey, I was doing research, was I not?) and books that were snatched up in a buying frenzy from second-hand booksellers and Ghandi alike. Don't even get me started... (or maybe I should).
Traffic School whose date for completion was extended (once and only once) until January 10. Shit! Shit! Shit! It wasn't entirely my fault due to the spotty internet connection (fishing for wireless from the neighboring houses...)
Ok. So the headache is gone because the doctor prescribed Celebrex, and my child has no more earache because she finished the course of antibiotics before we left. My father arrived and so did the "Reyes" with I.'s direly desired "Littlest Petshop" (don't ask, don't tell). The cat, beyond shredding a few toilet paper rolls was loving (even to the rats) and I arrived bearing gifts of hand-made crafts, wine, cheese and coffee to mitigate her devilry a posteriori.
It is good to be home, after all. Though I was sad to leave, especially after starting to get the hang of the big city again. There was so much to see and do and feel, It was all unprocessable. Perhaps I shall write here a few thoughts, like the novelty and overwhelmingness of wandering through the city streets, the metro, Coyoacán, Chapultepec, the Zócalo, alone with no one but my daughter, or the incredible embarrassment at not knowing (or remembering... did I ever know, I don't think so) about the actual "sitting" of Shive (we American jews are so casual). I may indeed post some photos, but with calma... there is too much to do... Wasn't it said that you need an entire vacation to recover from vacation?
Travel with children may seem daunting, but is not so bad once you bite the bullet and just go. No, the problems come from the ineptitude of the supposed adults who are working. Granted, there were a few moments, when everything was, "mommy will you buy me a present" and "I need to pee" two minutes after you have gotten onto periférico and the flow of traffic inches you along in its swell.
Pointed and precise letter to airline about idiot's mishandling of fragile package. Done.
Trip to urgent care to address sudden and unexpected conjunctivitis. Done.
Reading and work that was squashed during three weeks of "vacation". Um... let's just not talk about that, shall we?
Unpacking and accomodation of clean clothing (yes, one more pet peeve of mine is to arrive with dirty laundry so at 1 am I was busy running laundry, while "exploring" the bodega)... not to mention the library of cine nacional (hey, I was doing research, was I not?) and books that were snatched up in a buying frenzy from second-hand booksellers and Ghandi alike. Don't even get me started... (or maybe I should).
Traffic School whose date for completion was extended (once and only once) until January 10. Shit! Shit! Shit! It wasn't entirely my fault due to the spotty internet connection (fishing for wireless from the neighboring houses...)
Ok. So the headache is gone because the doctor prescribed Celebrex, and my child has no more earache because she finished the course of antibiotics before we left. My father arrived and so did the "Reyes" with I.'s direly desired "Littlest Petshop" (don't ask, don't tell). The cat, beyond shredding a few toilet paper rolls was loving (even to the rats) and I arrived bearing gifts of hand-made crafts, wine, cheese and coffee to mitigate her devilry a posteriori.
It is good to be home, after all. Though I was sad to leave, especially after starting to get the hang of the big city again. There was so much to see and do and feel, It was all unprocessable. Perhaps I shall write here a few thoughts, like the novelty and overwhelmingness of wandering through the city streets, the metro, Coyoacán, Chapultepec, the Zócalo, alone with no one but my daughter, or the incredible embarrassment at not knowing (or remembering... did I ever know, I don't think so) about the actual "sitting" of Shive (we American jews are so casual). I may indeed post some photos, but with calma... there is too much to do... Wasn't it said that you need an entire vacation to recover from vacation?
posted by ilana at 11:14 a.m.
2 Comments:
welome back. you have been missed
Missed you too! Talk soon, I hope.
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