Can we come home yet?

First, thanks to all of you for the peanut butter feedback. I especially appreciate the anon suggestion that we try something different. Hmmm. I guess we could do that. And now that several people have weighed in, I'm pretty sure it's not a trick that it's actually called crema de cacahuate... but I still think that sounds a bit fishy...

Yesterday I decided I want to go home (wherever that might be!). It was a long day. Ila has been a handful. She’s started talking back and pitching a new kind of big-girl fit when she can’t get us to give in. She’s much harder to manage than she has been and with all of the upheaval, plus the fact that she’s three, it’s not a surprise. She misses her life in Oakland and I think that being here is reinforcing the fact that we’re really not going back. With this in mind, it’s hard to discipline her for bad behavior. And it’s not made easier by the fact that the sound of a sad child makes grown men pull candies out of their pockets, ancient old women come hobbling over with smiles and pats, and grouchy taxi drivers produce talking stuffed animals. How’s a mom supposed to lay down the law? When we do finally get back to the states we’ll have a very spoiled little nina indeed! I guess I did say I wanted to see how they raise kids here…

I’m sure our hours don’t help. We’ve had busy touristy mornings, late naps and long nights. Restaurants don’t open until after 8pm, so we’re not home for bed until 10. I’m dead tired myself and aching for old routines. But of course, this is all just parenting, and traveling, and moving - a lot to be doing at once. Today’s been better – thanks to a giant ice cream and an Ositos Carinosos (Care Bears) coloring book. See, I’m adapting!

Yesterday we went to the Jardin Zoologico in the northern neighborhood of Palermo. I’m not a fan of zoos, but Peter told me, once you buy the ticket, you might as well enjoy it, so I did. They let you feed the animals, which has the effect of making them somewhat tame. I smiled at an elephant and she walked over to me, put her foot over the moat that separated us and waved her trunk at me. We were just a few feet from touching. I told her I’d kidnap her and take her back to her home if I could, but that I didn’t know how. Ila’s favorites were the buffalo who accepted food at the end of a little wooden ramp that stretched from our fence to theirs, again just feet away. The camels and deer actually ate directly from people’s hands. We fed the deer, but skipped the camels. They were just too big. Also there for the feeding were feral cats, big ugly ducks and these beaver/rat things all of which wandered freely and gave me the total willies.

Today we went to the beautiful Cementario in Recoleta, another northern and more ritzy neighborhood. I forgot my camera and it was definitely the best photo op thus far. Typico. The cemetery was a maze of mausoleums, tourists and more feral cats. We paid our respects to Evita and played follow the leader until it was time for lunch, which we had in a café priced for touristas. Lunch was followed by the all-powerful ice cream at a super trendy heladeria called Freddo. Recoleta is very pretty. It is where you’ll find the most expensive shops and restaurants, pretty buildings with balconies dripping with green vines and flowers. It is also where we ran into the most Americans. Tomorrow, for Peter’s birthday, we’ll go to the famous San Telmo antique fair right in our neighborhood and probably a big steak house for dinner.

Speaking of Peter, I have to say that before we arrived I was sure I’d be the one to run the show here. Ordering food, asking for directions, sorting things out. After all, I planned the trip, found the apartment, arranged our pick ups and drop offs. I’m the one who’s been to South America. I’m the one who’s studied Spanish (sort of, anyway). But, it turns out – a surprise to no one but me I’m sure – that Peter’s taken the lead. He’s fearless. He speaks barely any Spanish, but he just tries and laughs and by the end of every transaction, he’s clearly made a friend. He’s not afraid of making an ass out of himself and so, he is often an ass but by being one ends up leaps and bounds ahead of the shrinking violet I become when faced with the possibility of being an imperfect American tourist. Plus, with his great sense of direction, he’s mastered the city – well, the part of the city printed on the back of a business card he was handed by a hawker for a hostel in the neighborhood anyway. His great memory is really serving him well here. Now if only I could get him to use it to remember how to use the computer…

PS – Ila says “And I love Annabel. And I saw a lot of cats yesterday and they smelled stinky. But guess what I got. I got a Happy Feet coloring book! Also I went pee in a square potty. And I flushed a potty with a chain! And for Christmas I got a little dolly with a blanket and I got a little Snow White outfit with a heart picture of her on the dress and on the crown. “