Less is more. Toxics are bad. Why do I own six pairs of heels but only wear my nude pumps? How can I get more space for my kids and more sleep for myself? Veggies are good. Mexico is warm. Mosquitos love me and I hate them. There are over 410 ppm of CO2 in the air right now, what am doing about it? Organic is delicious. I have a budget. Dancing is invigorating. Biking is joyful. Billions of people in the world drink polluted water and and apply toxic cosmetics. Research is addicting. Yoga is calming. Community is creative. I forgot where I put my phone again. Most people live with a lot less than I have. There are two beautiful lives that I’m responsible for, plus my own.
Come try to live a cleaner, happier life with me as I attempt to be a minimalist, explorer, vegetarian, toxic-free, hopefully pretension-free parent abroad in Mexico.
Where was I?
I hold two children in my arms. A hand-me-down Camelback slung over one shoulder, an umbrella stroller slung over the other, a loose baby shoe in my left hand, with a toddler hat precariously looped around my pinky. On the crook of my elbow I balance a Micro Mini scooter, relying on friction between my shirt and the scooter’s rubber handlebar to keep it from falling. There are three floors and four doors between me and my apartment, I’ve already made it through one.
I take a deep breath. The kind parents take about forty seven times per day. One of my kids is crying. The old Victorian staircase is narrow and spirals.
“Two more weeks,” I tell myself. Relief is accompanied by a slight pain in my stomach. It might be my toddler kneeing me, but no, it’s the same ache I always get when I think about leaving. Because hard as this moment is, I’m in love with this city.
In fact, I’ve had a love affair with San Francisco for the last nine years. Ever since the first hidden staircase I found, since the first $14 acai bowl I had blew my mind, since the first time I road my bike down upper market at night.
Even if the average one bedroom in my neighborhood rented for less than $3400/month, it would still be time to leave. Latin America is calling me. Or maybe that’s just my husband rattling off in beautiful, rapid Spanish to his father on the phone most nights.
Maybe it’s the wold at large calling. Whispering to me across salty pacific air that there is so much more to be experienced.
Between the ages of seven and fifteen I lived in eight different houses in four different states. I lived in another three before I graduated college (not including dorms). I studied abroad, once in high school and again in college, so I’m satiated right? I’ve seen a lot?
There is so much else outside the US. While I count my years in Hawaii among that geographic group, and sure, I’ve traveled abroad more than most, I know that until you live it, you can only begin to understand.
So let’s begin.