The full holiday rush is about to hit, so take a deep breath and enjoy the calm before the storm. (I have a really terrible cold and throat ache right now, so it actually is difficult for me to breathe, wah).

Thanksgiving is next week, and I know this only because I keep seeing Facebook updates from responsible people who totally pre-plan a menu and shop ahead. If it wasn't for Facebook, I wouldn't actually believe people my age did that. I usually make a grocery store run on Tuesday or Wednesday. Well, all three times that I've cooked Thanksgiving dinner in my life. Last time I cooked a T-day meal was two years ago, when I was about nine weeks pregolicious with the baby K and smack dab in the middle of first trimester. I made a beautiful meal and literally felt like puking taking it all out of the oven. And then I did puke, then sipped on ginger ale and watched HGTV from the couch the rest of the day.

Last year we were in Miami so we had lechon, yucca, black beans and other delicious but definitely non-traditional Thanksgiving food. I didn't have to cook so I extra-enjoyed it. And it was also hot in Miami, and cafe con leches were calling my name from every street corner. Miami always makes me happy.

This year my mother is cooking the big stuff, i.e. turkey, stuffing and dressing, so I can take a load off and stick to the sides. And maybe even relax, and actually have some time to think about what I am thankful for.

I know Macy's and their little parade make us all think **Christmas** even before the turkey is out of the oven. But before we get to Christmas, we have to go through one of my favorite celebration days of the year -- the fiesta de Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe. When we lived in Houston, we used to go to the little Our Lady of Guadalupe church that was close to downtown for their midnight celebration. The mariachis singing Las Mananitas and matachines dancing were always wonderful, and I especially loved seeing the children dressed up as little Juan Dieguito.

I've been waiting to do this for a looooong time. I have a Juan Dieguito outfit for the toddler K for this year. Now just have to look for a fiesta. At the least, I'll take her to the Basilica here in DC to pay a visit to the Virgen de Guadalupe chapel. We'll dress the toddler, paint a little bigotito on her with eyeliner and we'll take roses to La Virgen.

I can't really muster up the energy to think too much about Christmas yet, or make a shopping list of gifts to buy (online). I have a Naughty or Nice iphone app that I downloaded last year that really helped me keep track of what I was buying and stick to a list. We've bought tickets to head to South Texas for the holidays, and that's planning enough. But soon, that will be over too, and we'll be in a New Year.

2011, is it? So where are all the flying cars they promised us we'd have by now?

Not that I do that much cooking anyway -- just whatever I can throw together after work with minimal prep. But this is definitely going to be a take-out or eat out weekend. I'm tired, and I need to hit up the grocery store. With the toddler we don't even bother to go to nice restaurants anymore. We stick to Baja Fresh, Qdoba and Chipotle, mostly. Better known as, Bueno y Barato. The toddler K loooooves her some rice and beans and guacamole so it works out for all of us.

On another note and for the random food story of the month, we went to a Mexican/Salvadoran restaurant (which means they don't really serve real Mexican food) a few weeks ago and this drunk dude at the table next to us kept trying to pet my child and tell us about his own child that he left back home. You know the story, and I can totally empathize. He obviously felt like platicating (that's our Spanglish way of saying platicando/talking) but I just didn't want to engage because not only was he drunk, but piss drunk, so I just kept my answers short and mostly tried to ignore.

Next thing I know, he walks out the front door of the restaurant and the owner follows him, they exchange words and soon the owner is walking back inside trying his best to hide this HUGE KITCHEN KNIFE that was basically a machete.

A machete! WTF? So the dude trying to pet my child had that on him while he was trying to platicate with us. I just wanted a friggin burrito, not all that drama. Cops came, did nothing because drunk dude who had machete was gone, and we left quick as we could.

**Scurry**

What would you do if that happened to you?

The Wall Street Journal has an interesting essay and blog post that came out this past weekend on the Madness of Modern Motherhood -- a critical view of the phenomenon of mothers who spend every moment attached to their child.  They breastfeed, sleep with them, wear them in slings, cover their tushes in cloth diapers, make homemade baby food and totally attune their own schedules to fit baby's needs. This is heralded by "The Baby Book" by William and Martha Sears, which I haven't read because, well, I'd rather read fiction than baby books. There, I said it.

So anyway, attached parenting? Yeah, that's not me, for the most part.

Reading this took me back to the beginning of it all, and I remember there was a point when the baby K was in the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) a few days after she was born and the lactation nurses came by for the third or fourth time to check in with me to make sure all systems were a go, that my "supply" had come in (Waiting for Spindletop? YES, it was waaaaay more painful than squeezing out a child).  I remember one of the lactation nurses telling me several times over the course of these days to take a "baby vacation" when I got home -- to take a full day, or two or three and just lie with my baby in bed. To pack a lunch, or have my husband do it for me, and stay in my bedroom right by my baby at all times. To bond. To do lots of skin-to-skin. To attach.

Oh, silly lacatation evangelicals.

I ended up in lacatation hell, and could barely even hold my baby, let alone breastfeed. This is something said evangelicals never mentioned and actually glossed over it when I asked about it. Not to get into all the gory details but let's just say mastitis, shooting pain, 103 fever, ER, trauma. For starters. There were other complications over the course of the first month. I kept at it, but after three months I was done.

I really, really hoped to breastfeed as long as I could. I read the pamphlets, scoured the internet and even took a class while I was pregnant. But it just didn't happen for me.

So much for attaching to baby. Well, I made up for it -- at least in my mind -- by making homemade baby food. Okay, really, I made most of the baby K's baby food because I got the most awesome gift at one of my baby showers -- a Beaba Babycook, which steams and purees baby food in one little contraption. I was obsessed with using it because I thought it was cool and it was so easy, so I ended up giving my child almost no canned baby food.

And just like Zack Galifianakis in the Hangover, I've also done my share of baby-wearing in a sling, Bjorn and backpack. Very slimming ;) But I didn't do it because I wanted to be attached to my baby. I just thought it was more comfortable than holding a baby in your tired arms. It's a space-saver on the Metro. And it makes things sooooo much easier when breaking down a stroller, taking off shoes and jacket and running a baby bag through security at an airport. My baby-wearing is more pragmatic than anything else.

The essay by Erica Jong in the WSJ takes a critical view of attached parenting, but I say if it works for you and if you feel you can do it all, fine. If you want to wear a sling and let your child sleep in their own crib in their own room, that'll work too.

It's a personal matter and sometimes just a matter of convenience. The reality is that with work, commuting, keeping up house, home and pets, and doing things for yourself like working out or waxing your upper lip (I ask for time for small, but important things, really), sometimes there just aren't enough hours in a day to do it all and overthink it along the way. We just do.

It took me a while to figure this out, but I don't feel guilty about my choices. I do what I can, when I can. I do what feels right to me.

So, where do dads fit into all of this? I mean, the Bjorn works on a dad, but the sling is a bit weird, me thinks. In my house, we split up things pretty much down the middle.

And speaking of cool baby carriers, Babyhawk has one with calaveras print. Dia de Los Muertos every day!

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.

We really like the Baby Abuelita doll series in our house -- and I've written about them here. The toddler has Baby Andrea and Abuelito Pancho. The traditional Spanish songs they sing are terrific, because lawd knows I can't carry a tune.

The Baby Abuelita company has just added a little boy to their series of singing plush dolls, which up to now included abuelo, abuela and three different baby girl dolls. Javier looks older than the girl dolls, with his jeans and polo shirt and tousled hair. But I dunno, I kind of prefer the more traditional look of the other dolls. The baby girls in their cute vestiditos and Abuelita Rosa's vata and Abuelito Pancho's guayabera are so spot on. I want to put the abuelos in chairs at the kitchen table and serve them some cafe con leche con unos pastelitos and platicar with them.

I actually did a double-take when I saw these dolls at a Target store here in the D.C. area recently. I was like heeeeeeeeeeey Abuelita! How'd you get up here from Miami? I had previously only seen them in Miami, and at that, in the grocery stores in Miami, although I knew they did sell them in other places, like Wal-mart and Toys "R" Us, and other cities, like Houston. But DC isn't exactly a Latino mecca. Glad to see them, though. It was like seeing familia -- isn't that sad?

Now if I could only get a decent taco around here. I know, that's like my daily ask in these blog posts. Dolls que cantan y tacos. It's not too much to ask for, right?

Quince meses y ya le gustan los tacones. This is an every day thing when I get home from work. And surprisingly, she handles the tacones better than I do.

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.