Baños de Agua Santa

Baños de Agua Santa, or Holy water bathroom, is one of the most beautiful towns I have ever been to. We took a short vacation there during our Christmas holiday. In order to save money, we Rob decided to take a four hour bus ride from Quito. The ride there wasn’t horrible. We stayed in a fantastic hostel, La Posada del Arte, which overlooked this waterfall.

On our top three list of things to do while in Ecuador, going to La Casa del Arbol was at least number two. It is also known as the swing at the edge of the world. The swing is attached to a rustic tree house, situated at the edge of a cliff. In order to get to the tree house, you must hike up a pretty steep mountainside, and there were no signs directing us to where it was located. 

There are no safety measures, just you and the swing. If you let go or fall off, I suppose you die. I had zero plans of getting on the swing, letting Rob get his adrenaline rush alone. But he talked me into doing it, and so here I am, begging him not to make me do it, and then finally getting the nerve to push off. The other pics are of us standing in front of the treehouse.

Hiking back down the mountainside with a baby in tow was not easy, so a kind Ecuadorian man lent me (and Logan) a hand.

We also visited BellaVista, which gave us a view of the entire town of Baños.

After that excursion, Rob decided he wanted to jump off a bridge:

Close to our hostel was a natural thermal bath, which is what Baños is known for. It was raining when we visited the bath, but the experience was completely different from what I expected. For one, it was closer to a public swimming pool than a natural hot spring, and also we were required to wear these funny hat things. But it was a great experience. While we took turns getting in the hot bath, a military helicopter landed close by.

That night, Rob gave me the best gift: ME TIME! Abby still refuses to take a bottle, so we have had no chance for a date night, and I have had no chance to be alone. But because Baños is also known for their spas, I didn’t skip a beat when Rob told me to go get a massage, pedicure, and eyebrow wax. Total cost (including tip): $30. The pedicure was really interesting. After my massage, the lady asked me to flip onto my back. Still sans clothes (but with a towel on), she proceeded to give me my pedicure while I was lying on the table. She put a bucket of water under my feet to rinse them off. I’m not complaining. It was great.

The other great place to see in Baños is the Basilica. What a pretty cathedral.

Because the town is named after holy water, I had to try it out myself. I’m not Catholic, and I have no idea what holy water is all about, but I followed the lead from everyone else lined up by the water, and tried it out. Most people splashed some on their heads and arms, and others filled up entire jugs.

In total, we spent three days there. On the grueling bus ride back, it seemed to be well over 100 degrees, and people were not opening their windows. Then, halfway through our ride, the bus needed an oil change. And guess where the engine was? Under my feet. Here I am, lifting my feet so they could access the burning hot engine. Five minutes and two dollars later, the bus had an oil change.

What a great experience this trip was!

The Fair's in Town!

Every year around this time I find myself getting nostalgic for things I have no business being nostalgic for. Since Rob and I have been married (right at six years now), we have never celebrated Christmas in the same house more than once. That means we have moved to a different house at least once a year every year. But sometimes I imagine us being in our house of many years, the snow falling lightly outside, Rascal Flats’ Christmas album on in the background, Logan and Rob putting a train around the Christmas tree, Abby and I making sugar cookies with red sprinkles on them, and logs on the fire with stockings hung with care on the mantel. This is the part I miss. But there is so much more I enjoy about living in a foreign country. The sights, smells, and sounds are completely new each day. With my pudgy gordita baby, I feel like a celebrity because every time we go anywhere, there isn’t one person who doesn’t point, stare, and smile at me her. 

It’s great here. I mean, where else can you see four nuns in the back of a pickup truck weaving Christmas wreaths with pine tree branches? (I SO wish I had my camera for that one). Where else can you ride a ride at the fair made of old Power Wheels cars nailed to a turning metal plate? A fair came to town two weeks ago, and has yet to leave. We ventured out there the other night.

 Every ride was just one dollar, but half of the rides were being worked on by mechanics. Logan wanted to jump in the ball pit. He disappeared for a second, and I thought of all of those urban legends about… I’ll let you fill in the blank there.

After about thirty minutes in the influenza pit, Logan wanted to play a game of foosball for fifty cents, and then we tried our hand at a game where you throw money on a table and if the spinning rod lands on your coin, you get the amount of money it lands on. #Ecuavegas.

 I love how tall Rob is in this picture compared to everyone else. 

Not owning a car has been nice because no car payment, no gas budget needed, no car insurance, no upkeep, but relying on a taxi isn’t always easy. We have enrolled Logan in a weekly art and fitness class, and on the way there last week our taxi just broke down in the middle of rush hour traffic. Catching a taxi isn’t always easy either. After half an hour of sitting in the sun today trying to flag one down, we decided to just ride the crowded 25 cent bus with our car seat and stroller in tow. Logan and Rob got to sit on the floor by the door because there was nowhere else to sit. Thankfully, ladies with babies always get a seat. I swear our bus driver was auditioning for a role in the Speed sequel. It wasn’t just us gringos who thought we were going to die. The girls in the seat across from me screamed a few times too. See, the buses here sometimes play who’s got more cahones? I guess they race to see who can change lanes faster or better. I have no idea. But at one point (or more) the two buses were maybe an inch apart, barreling parallel down the hill. I think that’s all for now, just loving this adventure!

Some more pics:

Bucket List

Let's take the bus, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. We decided to go on a very short trip into town this weekend to walk around the shops, but it is a $2 taxi ride every time we want to go. So Rob thought he would show me how awesome the 25 cent bus was. Of course the one time he gets me to get on the thing, there are literally over 100 people crammed on. We got off at the first stop and walked the rest of the way. He also wants us to save about $150 at Christmas and take the 4 hour bus ride to a town called Baños- yes, there is a town named bathroom. That will be our Christmas destination. I am not excited at all about this 4 hour ride, but I suppose saving money is good. 

I love seeing the news about everyone being cold back home. Every day is still the most perfect weather here – usually around 75 degrees. It does rain almost every afternoon though, and about once a week the power goes out for a few hours. It is a little difficult to explain to my four year old who is terrified of the dark why this happens sometimes, and why the shower is lukewarm instead of hot. But I think it is great that he is getting exposed to so many new things. Speaking of the rain, these little spiders come in the windows after every rain, and they bite! I already hate spiders, but the bites are so annoying. 

Speaking of annoying, getting a visa in any country can be a little challenging. We had to get our visas before we left the U.S., but Abby was not born when we got our visas, and Rob had to be with her in order for her to get a dependent visa, so we had to wait until we got here to get her visa. Unfortunately, the school isn’t sure how to process the paperwork for her yet so we have about 50 days left until her tourist visa expires. But we still had to register my visa and Logan’s visa. This process shouldn’t be as difficult as it was. We had to take a $12 taxi into the city, go to immigration, get a number, wait for our number to be called, go to a booth, give them our passports with the visas, and the school’s paperwork, and… wait. What’s that? The customs agent at the airport messed up his stamp in my passport? That doesn’t even make sense. So in my very limited (okay, none) Spanish, I got from the immigration visa dude that we had to leave and go to the police immigration office, tell them my stamp was done incorrectly, then come back and go through the process again. Get this- the airport agent wrote in my stamp 12VII, but he should have written 12VIII. It was missing ONE line with a black pen. If I had any cahones I would have just walked out the door, waited ten minutes, taken a black pen, and put the mark there myself. Instead, we took another taxi to the policia place, watched the lady write another line in my passport, went back to immigration, waited in line again, and two hours later took a $15 taxi back home. 

In other news, Halloween was a lot of fun. I won’t go into too much detail because Rob wrote about it in his blog too, but I am glad that my kids got to experience trick or treating here. I’m still having such a great time being a mom all day. I know my time is limited until I have to go back to work (9 months), so I am soaking up every single toothless grin from Abby and every sweet hug from Logan; even if those hugs are at times a bit forced. Tonight I tousled Rob’s hair as he sat at the counter eating, and he said, “What was that for?” Because I love you, Rob. I sometimes get so wrapped up in the what’s wrong, and don’t look enough at the what’s phenomenally, jaw droppingly amazing in my life. Riding in a taxi today through this town called Guapalo, we were going over a rickety one and a half lane bridge (but somehow it has turned into a two laner), and I looked down into the abyss below – hundreds of feet down – and I started thinking, what if this bridge started collapsing right now? Now, I know I just gave a speech about looking on the bright side, so hear me out. For a brief second, I thought about the fact that in that moment, I was beyond happy. I had those I love the most right next to me. The sun was shining perfectly, not to the point of making me hot, but just enough to kiss my cheeks. If the bridge had collapsed in that moment, I realized that I have done everything on my bucket list. Because a bucket list isn’t just about seeing all of the wonders of the world, or learning more languages, or even getting in a shark tank.

 My bucket list:

1.      Love and be loved. 

Done.  Not once, but three times. 

And each day that I am allowed to fall in love with them all over again is a gift.

 I am blessed.

This is Home

This is why I came to Ecuador. A perfectly sunny, 75 degree Saturday afternoon, and we have nothing to do. So we take a walk. The streets are a little dusty, and the stroller wheels struggle to keep up on the ancient cobblestone. Abby is sound asleep, covered from the rays that are making me smile. Logan is doing his best to hold his daddy’s hand, but wants to explore everything. He is thirsty, and we stumble upon a little corner shop with cold sodas, wrapped in promotional advertisements for the World Cup. We all take a seat on a slab of concrete outside the store, and Rob and I look at each other and know: this is home. On the way home, I jump out of my skin from the bark of a dog that peeks out from a tiny hole in a gate near someone’s home. All of the homes here are protected by shards of broken glass, glued to the top of their gates, and guard dogs. The dog barking is quite incessant, but it comes with the territory. We run into another dog just before turning the corner to our street. He is concerned we will steal his rotten banana peel, but soon realizes we are harmless. Along with the dogs, there are sounds here that Logan never heard in the suburbs. Car alarms at all hours, roosters with a broken internal clock, police, ambulance, horns, diesel buses, people on a loudspeaker selling something…. He spent the first two days asking me what every noise was. Even though we technically live in a suburb of the capital city, everything about living here is reminiscent of big city life; including our fabulous apartment. While we downgraded from a 2100 square foot single family home to a 950 square foot apartment (on a middle floor), this place feels bigger. It is brand new construction, open floor plan, and has a view to die for. I am surrounded by mountains on all sides, and at night, the surrounding city lights beam through my floor to ceiling windows. I have no clothes dryer, and so we dry our clothes on a rack in the sun. I have no dishwasher, and so I can no longer ignore dirty dishes. I spend my days on a never ending task of managing this household, but what a household it is. 

                After a week of being here, I have gotten us all into a little more of a routine. Logan is one that needs a schedule, and so am I. Here is the schedule I just started using with him, and it has been great. I got this from a shop on Etsy called Cucumberlime.

 I also created this menu board for him using Boardmaker software. He is the world’s pickiest eater, so this way he has control of what he eats each day, without realizing that I actually controlled the menu options. Tonight, he ate broccoli! You have no idea how big of a deal that is for me. 

This past Saturday we all traveled into the city of Quito for a kid’s birthday party. Here we discovered that Logan has a real talent for soccer. Where else would you find an indoor soccer goal than at a South American’s birthday party? We also have a goal in our apartment’s green area, and I take Logan out to practice a little each day. While at the party, Logan got a chance to hit a piñata for the first time. 

Although I had just a little altitude sickness in the beginning, the kids have been fine. Our flight was actually remarkably smooth. I know once Abby starts walking, it will get a little more difficult, but we even had strangers tell us how great our kids were on the plane. I chalk it up to having great kids, but also to obsessively preparing Logan for the flight. I even made him a picture book, with his picture in it, of each step of the process to expect. I am so Type A. 

Thankful to be back together again, and confident that we made the right decision, I look forward to seeing what tomorrow brings.

Strange Bedfellows

My office desk was replaced with a 10x10 room with a view (of my parent’s back yard), my business casual attire has been replaced with the one pair of PJ’s I own (and I’m lucky if I get that washed every few days), my previously extremely quiet co-workers have been replaced by two cantankerous souls, and my paycheck has been replaced by deposits in the love bank. My cup runneth-over. But man, this whole two kids thing while being a temporary single mom is HARD. Calming a gassy baby and a preschooler with a predisposition for OCD (mom, mom, mom, but mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom I need a napkin! I need a napkin! Napkin, mom! – yeah, he got messy and needed a napkin) is just too much at times. Thankfully, I have had family to help. 

But here’s the best part of my new job: my bosses love me, and I love them, unconditionally. Unconditionally, even when the little one decides in the middle of a traffic jam to cry so hard that she starts choking on her tears and I have to find somewhere to pull over and nurse. Even when the bigger one tries wiping himself, only to forget the toilet paper. Even when I end up as the middle of a baby-mom-baby sandwich every night because the little one cries when I put her anywhere away from me, and the big one has a nightmare and jumps into my bed. Because then, the little one gives me a smile that is identical to my husband’s smile, and I start to cry. Because the big one has the best sense of humor, and makes me laugh at least fifty times a day. I sure do laugh a lot more now. Career women and mom-as-a-career women sometimes make strange bedfellows, but there is no need for that. Each adventure we take in life is personal. We all don't get to choose the cards that are dealt. And for that I am grateful. I am grateful that this adventure has been given to me. That I have been blessed to care for these two angels, and that I have been given this chance to stay at home with them for a year. This is a beautiful adventure, and it’s only just begun.

And Then There Were Four (The Birth Story in Pictures)

While this post is not directly tied to Ecuador, the timing of my daughter’s birth is completely related, so I’m posting it here. If you don’t enjoy birth stories, you can skip this one and check back in August for more on the travel.

 Rob has to be in Ecuador by August 11th, and there was no chance we were going to risk Rob missing the birth of our daughter, Abigail. Her due date was August 5th, but my doctor scheduled me to be induced at 39 weeks to ensure her timely arrival. 

We got to the hospital Sunday the 28th at 7 p.m. with the idea that whatever inducing agent they gave me would work its magic overnight, and I would have the baby the next morning. Here I am, thrilled that the hospital knew I was coming, and they weren't going to send me home. 

 We were escorted to Labor and Delivery, where I was initially very happy with the room...

 Abby's heart monitor.

 Rob always wants to make me laugh (note the specimen container).

Around 9 p.m., they checked me and I was already 3 cm dilated and pretty effaced so my only option left for induction was an IV of Pitocin. For those of you who don't know what Pitocin is, it is a drug that is supposed to produce contractions. The labor officially began at 10:10 p.m. 

To start the Pitocin, they had to give me an IV. The nurse told me I had "weird veins," so she put the needle on the side of my wrist. This was the most painful IV I have ever received, and it scared me because if a needle hurt that much, how much would the rest of the process hurt?

Once things began, Rob got comfy on the laptop. 

 If you look closely, you'll see my focus items next to the T.V... A teddy bear and a card from Rob, Rob's lucky baseball that he has had with him during every important event in his life, along with a blown up latex glove (also compliments of Rob).

My contractions started coming every 2-3 minutes, and I was pretty excited that things would speed along, so I sent Rob out to go eat some breakfast in the cafeteria, and to take a picture of the hospital from the outside. When he showed me his mediocre breakfast, I almost cried from my deep deep hunger at that point because once you arrive, no food or drinks are allowed until that baby comes out. 

Despite the contractions, I felt pretty good, and needed no medications, although I couldn't sleep. So I browsed Facebook and Pinterest for hours. And then, twelve hours later, they checked me again, and NOTHING! Those were not the words I wanted to hear. I immediately started crying. How could I have twelve hours of contractions without dilating any more!? I really thought they would just send me home. I didn't want to talk to anyone. So, it was back to my phone for comfort. 

Thankfully, my doctor came in around 11 that morning and broke my water. Within an hour, the contractions came on STRONG, and I asked for an epidural. You can tell by this picture that I was ready for some pain meds. The anesthesiologist that came in was like a real-life Count from Sesame Street, minus the vampire teeth and the cape. Okay, so only his accent reminded me of the Count. It was hard to take him seriously. He smelled of Juicy Fruit gum and cigarette smoke. When he asked me if I drank or smoked, and I said no, he said, why? Followed by a shallow chuckle. When he was looking for a spot in my back to insert the needle, he first poked me with his fingernails, and as I winced in pain, his reply was, "What? (vhat?)," Once again followed by a shallow chuckle. Like, I enjoy giving pain and this is nothing. I really wish I had a video of the whole thing. 

Rob was completely there for me to break his hands during each contraction. 

No joke, within an hour, I called the nurse and told her I could feel the baby coming out. She came in to check, and yup. I was right. My doctor wasn't even in the building yet. As long as I could, I held in my urge to push while she set up this scary looking table. Yikes! As soon as the doctor was in the building, she let me push. 

10 minutes later (after 16 hours of labor), Abby was here!

She was 8 pounds exactly, and 19.5 inches long. 

Abby and the doctor. 

 Her cute little feet.

Daddy and Abby. 

This hospital encourages skin to skin bonding before any weighing or exams, so we stayed in the labor room for over an hour with her before being moved to our recovery room where the visitors were waiting. I was so excited to introduce Logan to his little sister! The first picture here is Logan, two of my sisters, and Abby. 

The second day, Logan was a little bored so daddy took him for a walk around the hospital. 

But every time he gets to hold her, he just beams with pride. 

This was Abby's going home outfit. 

I am so in love. 

So, so in love. 

Although we aren't Kate and William, I couldn't be happier with the new addition to our family.