I'm away from home again, this time at a conference for work that is fully across the country -- actually, in the O.C. (Orange County). I always miss my little one terribly when I have to travel for work, but I know I am so, so, so, so, so soooooooo fortunate to have my mother take care of my daughter while the husband and I work, or travel for work.

See, my mom left her own home in South Texas to come stay with us aaaaaaaall the way up in DC when my maternity leave ended last year. I was in a bind -- the waiting lists for daycare in DC were totally insane. Like, I basically had to think about signing up for a daycare before I got pregnant because the waiting lists were over a year long (not to mention the cost that was as much as a mortgage payment). That kind of insanity. So I asked my mom, who is retired, if she could come up and take care of baby K for a few months. She said sure, and a year later and she hasn't left. She's here for good.

I never even followed up/pestered the daycare about where I was on the waiting list. Why? I have no issues with sending babies and kids to daycare when parents have no other choice, but if there's even a chance of having it work out, there's no one like grandma to watch over iddy-biddy-baby when mom isn't around. I was extremely attached to my ama, and I still am very much -- and my grandmother is in her late '80's and I've got my own little one. My ama is like another mother to me. There is just something quite wonderful about the grandmother-grandchild bond and I'm beyond thrilled -- relieved is maybe a better word -- to see my daughter growing up with grandma.

Even though grandma gives her Coke and let's her sip on her cafe con leche.

And gives her Popeye's and KFC fried chicken and french fries.

And McDonald's ice cream cones.

And Cheetos and candy that makes her sticky.

And lets her watch novelas in the afternoon.

Those are grandparent things and I think its just in their DNA to do it, and though I shake my head I'm actually **glad** grandma does it because it makes it easier to stick to my guns about boundaries and all that by-the-book parenting stuff. Even though I own no parenting books and have no time to read books. But I'm still a bit of a nerd so maybe better said, by-the-NYTimes parenting stuff. Yeah, I download waaaaay too much news on a daily basis.

But grandma also teaches her to dance to JLo's 'Let's Get Loud' and carves a pumpkin with her and snuggles with her in the cold morning. And she calls her mi'jita. And she means it.

Sometimes, when there's something going on with the toddler K -- like she's sick or crying or something -- and it's me, the husband, and grandma hovering over her to figure it out I think, she is lucky. We are lucky to have each other to depend on. I still wish we had more family and cousins around, but some family is better than none.

And I haven't even touched on having the other abuelos from Miami around at least a few times a week via Skype (that virtual abuelo relationship is a whole other blog post). They actually just got to my house this evening all the way from Florida and are going to watch the toddler K tomorrow while the husband works. Other grandma gets a day off.

So tonight, I can actually rest well knowing that my little girl is in great hands, her abuelo's hands. I miss her, but I also think that that time she spends with them is so important -- as important as it is spending time with me.

In the spirit of Dia de Los Muertos, I think I'll use this bag with calaveras that I bought in Los Angeles a few months ago. I bought it at the same time I got this other bag that I've used as a baby bag for a while now. This will not become a baby bag. This is mama bag.

Not planning on doing much of anything this DDLM as I'll spend most of the day traveling cross-country to Los Angeles for work. Oh, joy. At least I'll have great food waiting for me when I arrive, and maybe I'll get some time to catch up on my downloaded This American Life episodes.

But, just because I haven't gotten my act together in writing about DDLM this year doesn't mean I don't care about it. I really look forward to anything and everything DDLM, from remembering loved ones to building altars and especially las catrinas. I have a rather large one in my living room that stays up year-round, and I think people think its Wiccan or something. For the record:

"I am not a witch, either. Just Mexican. American."

If you are in the mood for DDLM I recommend visiting the Viva La Vida by MJ blog, which has a lot of great posts about Dia de Los Muertos, in case you want to read up on ofrendas, pan de muerto, calaveras, catrinas, etc.

Downtown Madrid is bustling with tourists from across the globe and folks hustling to make a euro. The Plaza Mayor was full of Disney characters, Bob Esponjas, and this strange-looking cabra-peacock thing that is the stuff pesadillas are made out of.

There are also lots of musicians -- including these mariachis we encountered at Puerta del Sol in the heart of Madrid. The toddler K started bouncing as soon as she heard them, the mexicana in her awakened.

And then we heard a British woman exclaim with such delight, "Oh, look! How wonderful, a flamenco band!"

Aye Dios mio.

We made it back home from Spain in one piece, and I've got to say, the toddler K did great. She's not a melt-down kind of child, and that's no thanks to anything we do. It's just her natural temperament. Yeah, we know we're lucky. I'm sure if there's a number two it will be all hell all the time.

This was the first time we take a 'vacation, with child' that wasn't to a place where we had family or friends waiting on the other end to cushion the travel pangs. There's a whole lot of little things about traveling with children that I learned/picked up/realized on this trip, but one of the biggest was that the playground is your ally. When the toddler gets restless and starts going guidi-guidi-guidi-guidi (asi se queja la toddler K ahora) and doing that straight-as-a-board thing in the stroller, find the nearest playground or park and go straight to it and let the child have at it.

We must have gone to at least a half dozen zonas infantiles during the week we were in Spain, not including the plazas and parks which also give a lot of space for a kid to go loose. And although the toddler K can give a monologue that will give Castro or Chavez some stiff competition, she isn't really talking so other kids still ignore her, for the most part. But she still managed to get kicked by a little boy, and got her hair pulled by a little girl, whom her ninera said was a "malilla" ever since she was born. She did find a few nice kids, though. But the ones who were really sweet to her were the adults, and even teenagers -- much more interactive with her than here in the U.S. A lot of folks would talk to her, smile or make a playful face. They would do this everywhere -- at restaurants, in the metro, in the stores. It was kind of refreshing to be in a place where folks didn't have their eyes stuck on the Blackberry or iPhone at all times and too busy to notice the world around them.

We kept a pretty brisk pace throughout each day but the toddler did take naps every day either back at the apartment we rented, or in her stroller. And we essentially just let her stay up really late to make up for the time difference, although that did mean having to wake her up in the morning. But now that we're back seems she didn't miss a beat in her sleep schedule at night, so score!

Oh yeah, and all these pics are taken at different playgrounds or plazas. Yes, we really worked our poor child out. And she wore us out, but in a good way.

It was either the boxed milk off the store shelf,  or this one -- the only one in the refrigerator section in the supermarket we went to in Bilbao today. Refrigerated equals fresh, or it should, and that's what children from the U.S. drown themselves in every day.

The pic on the box has a cow grazing in the pasture, so that's a start, right? And the word leche is in there, I think. But its written in Euskara, as are many things in Bilbao (which is part of the Pais Vasco) so I couldn't be sure. I took it because something in the toddler K's bottle is better than nothing once the grouchiness comes a knocking.

The toddler K chugged it down without a complaint, so guess we're good. I admit, I didn't try it because I don't like milk on its own -- never have -- so I can't even judge what the real thing tastes like.

This is parenting at its best! Let me tell you, when you travel especially international, your standards definitely shift. Which brings me to dinner tonight, in which we let the toddler K eat a bag of chips. That's it, just a bag of potato chips because that's what she wanted and I was too tired to care anymore.

She loved it, probably thinks I'm a goddess because of it, too. I should've just gone and topped it off with some Fanta Limon in her bottle.

The name of this store  -- Callate La Boca -- immediately caught my attention as soon as I saw it because it made me think, oh, isn't that what King Juan Carlos infamously told Venezuela President Hugo Chavez back in 2007? Must be a play off that. But no such thing -- although that would have been something. What the king actually said  was, "Por que no te callas?" which if you think about it, is actually much, much nicer and more polite than telling someone to shut their mouth.

I like the name Callate La Boca -- it's bold. That and the bold, primary colors of whimsical items staring out through the window was enough to draw me in. The store is located next to the Plaza Mayor and right next to the Mercado San Miguel, which was refurbished in 2008 and is a beautiful market enclosed in glass with delicious -- and I'd even venture to say exquisito -- food and drink.  More on that later.

Callate La Boca's designs are simple and of simple everyday things. A huevo frito, a loaf of Pan Bimbo, un caramelo, animals, etc. They make shirts for adults and kids, bibs and onesies, lunchbags, pencils, wall clocks, wall prints, rugs, etc. etc. I totally love their VW van rug, and it would be perfect for us since we drive a VW Routan, which doesn't have as much personality as the old school V-Dubs but it's been good to us.

I didn't love the quality of the t-shirts -- cotton is too thick and I prefer the thinner, softer kinds, or poly blends. Or pima cotton, even better! So I bought the toddler K a simple onesie that says "Callate La Boca" -- which she will NOT be allowed to ever tell me, but on a onesie, okay. And I got a few stove-top cafeteras, the kind you use to make cafe con leche, to give as Christmas gifts. The girl at the store was very nice y le regalo a the toddler K a pencil with an eraser on top of a huevo frito. Toddler K loves huevos fritos and could eat huevos every day for every meal, so it was perfect. She started chewing on it immediately.

It seems that outside of Spain the only other CLB store is in Singapore. But you can order CLB products through their online store.

Note: I had four cafes con leche yesterday and couldn't fall asleep last night!!! So I was good today, and only had three :)

Forget about all those Facebook "On this day, God wants you to know" updates from your friends that keep popping up in your status updates. Walter Mercado -- in all his lionish and gilded robe glory -- had that market cornered a looooong time ago.

No one can transfix a television-viewing audience like la Walter. I mean, he could totally be a tranny character in an Almodovar movie, but in a weird way he's kind of like family because he's been a fixture in homes, via TV, for years and years. So, its him that I turn to when I want to know what the day will bring. And soon enough, the toddler K will learn to recognize Walter Mercado, too.

So shhhhhhhh!!!

Time for our favorite psychic to do his run down of what life and love will bring me on this day. Y hoy dice que no debo complicarme la vida.

CANCER: Venus, retrógrado en tu casa de la diversión y los placeres, podría jugarte una mala pasada. Asegúrate de no hacer bromas de mal gusto a nadie. Cuida con esmero aquellas personas jóvenes o niños que estén a tu cargo. Planifica eventos donde tus responsabilidades sean mínimas. No te compliques la vida por gusto. Números de suerte: 11, 50, 3

Aye, now I'm worried and will have to watch my steps today. Y cuidar muy bien a mi hija. Thanks for the warning, Walter. And for my Pick 3 lottery numbers. A ver lo que te dice a ti aqui.

Wishing you a happy Friday, a great weekend, pero sobre todo, mucho, mucho amoooor!

Yes, there are days when I feel like grabbing one of these and wearing it into the office. So much easier than make-up and fixing the hair.

I've mentioned here before my fascination with lucha libre and the idea of masking your true identity, as the luchadores do with their fantastic mascaras. The masks are like a second skin, and the way it works is that if a luchador loses a big match he risks being unmasked. It's a pulling back of the curtain, stripping away the armor and revealing humanity in all its vulnerability. It's Clark Kent behind Superman. But luchadores go the distance to keep their true identity under wraps, including wearing their masks out in public. The greatest luchador, El Santo, didn't reveal who he was until he was already retired and an old man. He was buried in his famous silver mask.

I love lucha libre iconography. Put it on a shirt, a switch plate, some chones, a bag, whatever -- I'll take it. If you see any cool products using lucha libre send me pics or links.

And speaking of the double-identity, can't wait for the new season of Dexter!!! Every episode, my husband swears he's DONE with Dexter and that it's too stressful for him to watch. But he keeps coming back for more. We all are. Good stuff. Last season will be hard to top.