You Know . . .

You know you live too close to the border when the Sunday newspaper comes complete with a Toys R Us ad. In English.

Nearest Toys R Us? Three hours away in Laredo.

Nice.

La Dentista

I can't explain how happy a good visit to the dentist can make me. But I'll try.

First, it helps to know what it's like to visit a bad dentist. For the first 30 years of my life, I had no idea what a less-than-perfect dental checkup was. After moving to Saltillo, our dental insurance was finally in order when I was 8 months pregnant. It had been at least 3 years since I had seen a dentist. Therefore, when the dentist told me that I had my first cavity--no, not my first cavity, but SEVEN first cavities--I was not completely surprised.

The cavities were filled when Clara was about 5 months old and it was a pain I chalked up to equaling childbirth. Obviously, I'm a little irrational when confronting pain. In retrospect, it wasn't near that bad. However, the Novocaine wasn't working 100% on the left side. It's an experience I'm hoping I'll never have to repeat.

Therefore, getting all the damage of 3 years of dental neglect and a calcium-sucking pregnancy out of the way, I was expecting a glowing report after my next cleaning. However, thanks to new insurance, I had to look for a new dentist. As I wasn't a huge fan of the man who filled my cavities (although he did appear very competent), I was looking forward to the change.

I called for an appointment at an impressive, US-style clinic downtown. Awed by their multiple consult rooms, state of the art equipment, receptionist, and magazines, I was getting a little giddy. And the dentist wanted to replace my ugly gray fillings with white resins. Sweet. If insurance covered most of the cost, that sounded great!

But, by the time my consult was finished, the dentist found SEVENTEEN cavities that he thought should be filled with resin. SEVENTEEN! That's about one cavity for every two teeth! For me, who's never had a cavity in my life before. At least, until I moved to Mexico and started seeing Mexican dentists.

Yeah, and the total of my 20% copay was well over 3000 pesos--equal to a month's rent! And that was with insurance included!

I canceled the appointment for my fillings and consulted the yellow pages again.

And I stumbled across Dra. Mariza Valdes Valdes. Dear heavens, I love her.

Yes, I have to go all the way across town to visit her. However, instead of insisting on filling all my cavities, she commented that they were tiny cavities. She recommended just watching them to see if they get any bigger. Or to perhaps use sealants, like on kids' teeth, to keep them in check. But she didn't want to damage the surrounding healthy tooth by drilling out those tiny cavities. Yes--someone who makes sense!

After my second cleaning with her, we're still just on watch with the cavities. And she has an ultra-sound wand to clean my teeth--so weird, so messy, but my teeth come out so clean. It's got an irritating, high-pitched whistle and sprays water all over my face ("the bath comes free", she told me). But it's the cleanest my teeth have ever felt.

I think I even convinced Mario to visit her.

Anyone in Saltillo, if you want the name of shady dentist (so as to avoid him), I'm happy to pass that information on through email.

I Want . . .

We got home at almost two o'clock after the ladies' Bible study at the Gringo Church (aka, Saltillo International Church). Everyone brought delicious cake, cookies, and egg dishes to share and this morning we just sat around forever and a half, chatting the morning away. So nice, as we haven't gotten together since school got out. Therefore, we left late. And then I got caught in the after-school traffic. Grrr . . . Someday I'll wise up.

Clara managed to get a 20 minute nap while stuck in traffic, and most Wednesdays, she thinks that's enough. I disagree. My plan to convince her to rest for an hour or more is to feed her, throw her in the tub/pool and then, to bed.

As soon as we walked in the door she got antsy. "Do you want to eat?"

Immediately, she put her finger to her nose to signal "please" (or yes, as the case may be).

I started scrambling an egg. (She's more of a lady than I am and didn't gorge herself on the cakes and cookies as I did.) When I turned on the burner to melt the butter for her egg, she got whiny all over again.

"Are you sleepy? Do you want to go to bed?"

Affirmative.

OK, what is it that she wants? Of course, at nearly two o'clock, she probably is both hungry and sleepy. But sometimes I catch her by asking her questions beginning with, "do you want . . . ?" and whatever it is that I ask her that she wants, she'll say, "Oh, yeah--that would be great!"

All her life, I've been a big believer that she understands what I'm saying. However, part of me wonders if she just hears the word "want" and thinks, "yep, I want".

And really, don't I do that, too? The power of suggestion is strong. Last night, Mario went to the grocery store by himself (oh, so dangerous), and as soon as I saw the bottle of Coke he brought home (knowing he was planning on making himself a cuba libre with it), I developed an overwhelming urge for a cuba myself. I never would have thought of that on my own. But oh, those little triggers.

Also, part of me is itching for something new. There are a number of stores for rent near us, a few that would be perfect for a bakery. Oh, how I want to run a bakery! Sometimes I think over the idea in my head until it seems like the most idyllic situation in the world. (Daydreams don't leave room for irritating realities.) Then, I sit back and think, "wait--I have a very small daughter, and I've always really wanted to be able to have the opportunity to stay home with her."

This opportunity is presenting itself now. Three years from now, when she's in school, is not the time for me to decide to stay home with her.

Like Clara, I want . . . I want. I apparently want any good idea that's presented to me.

But one thing at a time.

Go, Saraperos!

Mexico's national baseball championship is culminating this week (possibly tonight!) in the great city of Saltillo, as once again, Saltillo's Saraperos have proven to be one of the best two teams in the country.

Mexicans play baseball?

In Saltillo, yes they do. Baseball is bigger than soccer. (heaven forbid!) However, other Mexicans must play the game, as Saltillo's team is currently playing the team from Puebla and last year they trounced a team from Cancun. Yeah, did you catch that? My two favorite cities in Mexico are battling out baseball glories.

But, with a score of 20-1 in only the 5th inning, it seems that Saltillo has this game wrapped up.

And, beyond asking Mario various updates (as he also switches back and forth between this game and the Braves/Dodgers game), I'm not really paying that much attention. Baseball is not much fun to watch. Especially on TV.

But, while I'm finally on here, I'll throw in a small Clara update because the kid is finally WALKING! OK, she's really just cruising. She took two steps by herself in the pool on Saturday. Other than that, she insists on holding our hands or the furniture. We're doing our best to convince her that she really can walk while holding on to just one of our hands. Today, it seems that she's starting to buy that.

And Friday she finally realized that she can stand on her own without freaking out. Before that it was "OH NO! OH NO! I'M NOT HOLDING ONTO ANYTHING! I'M GOING TO FALL! GET ME NOOOOOOOWWWWW!" Now she's OK with being on her own as long as I do pick her up within 10 seconds. She'll get there. Slowly but surely seems to be her theme.

So that's the scoop with us.

Dude, seriously--won't they call the game at about the 7th inning if one team is 25 runs ahead of the other team, or is that just Little League? Because this is just sad.

Destination: Desierto de los Leones

The Desierto de los Leones is neither a desert, nor are there lions. I believe the original inhabitants came up with the name just to keep other people away. However, my brother-in-law is a bit more knowledgable on the subject and says that there used to be mountain lions in the mountains outside of Mexico City (on the road to Toluca) and, years ago, a desierto could be used to describe any kind of deserted place, whether a true desert or a cold, mountanous forest.

But the name is a lot more poetic as the misnomer I thought it was.

Regardless, the week that I was in Mexico City, my sister-in-law suggested going to El Desierto instead of Chapuletpec. Being closer to their house, cheaper, and less crowded, I was game. And it is now one of my most favorite places in this entire country.

First of all, we went on a Wednesday, which meant that there were a grand total of 20 other people visiting that day. Plus, the sky threatened rain all day. I'm sure that helped keep people away, too. Had we visited on a weekend, the place would likely have been packed. I highly recommend rainy Wednesdays.

In general visitors to the park come to have picnics, rent shelters for birthday parties or family gatherings, and just to have a dia de campo. However, being my first time there, we went to the ex-convent. I love ex-convents. And this is now my favorite one (sorry, Tlaxcala--you'll have to be content being #2).

Most convents in Mexico closed, or became government property during the reform movement in the 1850s-1860s. However, Very Knowledgeable Brother-in-law claims that this one was closed because the nuns from this order had to take a vow of silence to live there. One can live in silence for only so long before craziness sets in. So as the convent slowly became a lunatic aslyum, someone in charge decided that the best thing to do was to abandon the property. Personally, I think a more sensible step would have been to allow the nuns to talk, but they didn't ask my advice.

Being a woodland paradise it would have been heaven to live in, overlooking the wicked cold the nuns would have had to endure in the winter, of course. Now it makes for a great place for chilangos to excape their concrete jungle. It's also impeccably well-maintained by both the government and Grupo Bimbo. There are trails to walk around in the woods, and a path to a river, which I'll explore the next chance I get. However, Clara and her cousins liked the playground equipment best of all, of couse.