All I Didn't Read in Mexico

We just got back from an epic trip to Mexico, for my brother's (finally!) wedding. And I could tell you all about it, but I must start with the fact that, while there, I did not read two books, three magazines, and a book I grabbed off the casa's "take a book/leave a book"shelf in the first hour we were there. Not a word. Not even a flip through a magazine. I moved them around a few times, and offered them up to others, but I did not read one bit.

It's not because I didn't have time to read either, I did, here and there. Our family takes a trip to the beach every year, around the same time as we went on this trip. Anticipating this trip to be much the same as our usual trip, I brought the amount of reading material that I usually take for that trip. And the trip WAS much like our beach trip. I mean, mom, even in a casa with 4 and a half baths, still had that uncanny NEED to use the bathroom when others were in there. And Dad, being the one that at least feels like he has to be in charge and responsible, really only relaxed the day before we left. Just like always. And sure we were busy with wedding stuff the first three days in particular, but there were certainly still moments when I could have read. Plenty of them.

Thing is, though, when you are allowed the pleasure of continual blue sky and endless sunshine, your own infinity edge pool, epic views of the Bahia Mujeres, Caribbean, and Cancun, it's a lot to take in. And it really never gets old. I couldn't tear my eyes away. I didn't want to read. I just wanted to BE. THERE.

Being in a foreign country, too, even "just Mexico," is a lot to process. We were not at a resort. We had rented a 4 bedroom casa, so much like our annual beach trip, grocery runs had to be made, and restaurants had to be chosen, but labels, and menus were in Spanish. Monetary exchanges had to be in pesos. Just running to the the local grocery, Cheddraui, was and ADVENTURE. From the magnetized escalator for carts, to the ATM that was only KIND OF in English, to the realization that all there was to be had was this super duper extra pasteurized boxed milk on the shelf, not the cooler case; my eyes were continually wide. Any trip, to the Cheddraui, or Playa Norte, or Tortugranja rescue facility inevitably involved two taxi rides, at 45-50 mph, with a Mexican man or woman with probable minimal English. You surrendered to being sticky, in a red, ratty, tricked out old Nissan, flying up a costal two lane road as you swerved around the hierarchy of bicycles, mopeds, golf carts, and inevitably a "perro" or two. We were just at Disneyworld in April, and let me tell you, this ride beat ANYTHING we rode there! Adventure was the name of the game, daily. Hourly. I surely didn't need to read anyone else's thoughts; ponder their existence, or life. I was out there living my own life, and at times holding on for dear life! Happily!

Who DOES that?
Me, apparently, and my incredible, crazy, whacked out wonderful family!

Yep, there was no reading because there was too much to take in. Too much to do. Too much to see. There were stories from my brother's friends, about his and Priscilla's life up to this point. There were stories of how we all had made our way to this little island we called home for a week. There were stories of how Mark and Mindy didn't die on the way back from Chichen Itza, and somehow, also got their bribe BACK from a "Mexican Policia." There were constant attempts to learn a little bit of language, and a little bit of accent, even though Geena is really more suited to Italian, and Dad, well, he shouldn't quit his day job! And, as always with us, there was FOOD! We made acquaintance with the snack magic of Rancheritos, and other salty Mexican snack foods so suited to their crappy, yet surprisingly satisfying waters, I mean beers. We ate everything from cheap tacos, to three course alfresco dinners marina side, to beautifully plated sit down meals on a patio overlooking Cancun at night, to locally sourced and prepared fish with sand under our toes. (Common thread to them all? A little vinegar...and pickled onions, who knew?)

Mom and I realized we can snorkel.
We all realized we LIKE to sip tequila.
We stood at the eastern most point of Mexico, much like we stood at the Southernmost point of the US in Key West a few years ago.

We are a traveling bunch. And we all see things in a different way, and we all experience things in our own ways, but wow, what long strange wonderful trips they have been! And my brother's wedding pushed us all out of our comfort zones, in so many ways, and I am eternally thankful to him for that. I will never forget, lying in bed the day we were leaving, at daybreak, and being so incredibly thankful, being so incredibly full of love, being so in awe that I have my very OWN sister in law now.

My teeny tiny family got a little bigger...and my heart grew...in Mexico.

July has been a whirlwind for us. All told, the family has been busy, or gone, or in some way HEAVILY occupied for 24 of the 31 days. We've not only been to Mexico, but Lansing, and Vermont. May August bring a slowdown of sorts. I think we are ready for one; need one. May I sit, and read, at least for a little while. I would be willing to drift off into someone else's story for while, but may I never tire of crafting this crazy, wonderful, wild story that is my amazing life.