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10 Cool Costco Insider Secrets to Save You and Your Family Money This Week (And They Work in Baja, Too!)
If you’re a lover of the food court, impressed by ridiculously clean, smooth floors, and slightly addicted to samples, welcome to the Costco club. It’s pretty much the only place where your shopping cart can contain a $45,000 diamond ring resting on top of 1,875 Q-Tips and a five-gallon jug of nasty cooking oil. Just Baja? It’s also the only place I’d like to be stuck/trapped/held captive in the event of a Christmas lockdown. Think about it… grab a mattress, some sheets, a down comforter, drag it all to the middle aisle, bust open a pillow two-pack, choose some cozy jammies, slippers and a good book, plug in a heater…
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Christmas Card Burnout: Why I Chose to Stop Sending the Iconic Greeting
They were part of the tradition, part of the joy and part of the expectation. I can still see piles of cards in front of my mother. Her beautiful handwriting graced fronts of envelopes as she diligently wrote out addresses and duplicated ours in every lefthand corner. She composed classic Christmas letters with my father, describing the most interesting bits of our year and excluding all the sibling rivalry—mostly caused by me. Personal greetings inside sturdy cards of snow-scenes no doubt left each recipient feeling remembered and loved. Add an Olan Mills, lick a tasty stamp and bam—Christmas spirit. For all I know she lovingly placed them…
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8 Things I’m Teaching My American Pre-Adults in Mexico
Don’t Wear Red to a Chinese Funeral In some cultures it’s downright rude to wear certain clothes to certain events. Even if they never end up at a Chinese funeral (where they should only wear white or black), there are some things my American kids need to learn about clothing. Please don’t wear a fancy white dress to a wedding. (Unless you’re the bride.) … or a baseball hat to church. … or Crocs to a party. Or ever. (Unless you’re a nurse or you’re creek walking.) … or a tube top to a business luncheon. … or a mini skirt after a certain age. (ahem—39?) If you feel you must break this…
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Double Border, Side of Stress, Hold the Sunset
Crossing the Mexican border solo is not my favorite. But living in Baja for ten years makes me prepared, mostly confident and ready. Until that one time. After a lousy weekend back home for a funeral, I board some 737, block my row with stuff and close my eyes. Guilt tells me to open them and welcome any passerby, but the plane is virtually empty and I am spent. After touching down in San Diego, all that stands between me and getting home before dark is shifting my weight for 30 minutes at carousel #1, finding my shuttle, retrieving my vehicle, grabbing a fully-leaded liquid treat and heading for stores.…
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In the Eye of the Swarm: Learning Patience While Waiting for Everything to Change
They come in near silence, minding their business and ready to work. They never need blueprints, complain of the load or ask for time off. Their days are long and full of physical labor. They don’t work for the weekend; the word itself does not exist in their world. They are not lazy, selfish or greedy. They toil as a team with their boss in mind; everything exists for her. But amidst their fantastic attributes, they are squatters by nature. They move in without asking, build without permits, and defend their stolen property with a vengeance. So who do you call when they join forces, come out swinging, and threaten…
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A Bark, a Whistle, and the Woman Behind the White
When a car of teen boys drove by and one of the confident losers barked, I secretly cringed, kept walking and felt something die inside. I didn’t need Seventeen magazine to tell me I wasn’t in the running; we who weren’t natural beauties already knew. My awkward teenage self turned a bit inward that day. I questioned more, doubted more, hurt more. Stupid memories stay with me longer than they probably should, but here we are. Two-and-a-half decades later and I can still hear his voice. I now live in a Latin-American country though. I am a pale version of the beautiful brown humans surrounding my kids,…
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Dear Stay-At-Home Mom: I Figured Out Your Problem
My face told him my approximate age. The awkward wedding reception silence told him to ask. I knew what was coming; the same thing that always came after the “nice to meet you” part. “Do you work?” It’s not a question I get down here in Baja; the majority of women stay home and take care of the kids, cook, etc. But when I lived in the States—a perfectly normal question. I wanted to launch. I wanted to redefine his inquiry, spell it out, wrap it up and hand it back. You mean like for money? No, last time I checked there’s no salary for washing, changing, feeding,…
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10 Secrets Missionaries Keep, Part 1
Depending on the country, you might think being a missionary means having a bunch of faith, eating rice, praying all day and swinging in a hammock. But unless you’ve taken a trip to visit a missionary, you might not see the challenges behind the scenes. Even then they’re probably not telling you how they truly feel about their marriage, raising support, and those donations you sent. I emailed a list of questions to 39 missionary friends, asking them to be brutally honest and open about missionary life in a foreign country. I got back answers from India, Canada, The Middle East, Mexico and Italy. I took the survey too,…
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Easter Fail
I knew he was familiar with the Easter story, but I had never heard our seven-year-old try to re-tell it on his own. We only read the full account of Jesus’ death and resurrection once a year; I expected him to get a couple details wrong. Pride welled when he began. Then perfectionism kicked in and disappointment welled when he continued. Not disappointment in my boy—in me and my parenting skills. We use a visual aid called Resurrection Eggs and the carton contains a dozen plastic eggs, each one containing an object to help convey the meaning of Easter. For example, in the orange egg you’ll find praying hands, and the…
