Spain has some of the most beautiful, traditional children's clothes I've ever seen. I first realized this when I studied abroad there in college, loooooong before I was thinking about kids or their cuteness factor. You see babies and children dressed up in a way that you don't see every day here in the U.S. -- except on Sundays, maybe. During our trip there last week, every time I came across a shop window with these beautiful classic pink and baby blue knit outfits for newborns, or smocked -- panel de abeja -- dresses for little girls, I'd just stop in front of it and melt. And then I'd take a picture.

I love these classic and traditional outfits and would put my child in them every day if it were practical -- which it totally is not. I cringe when the toddler K dips her elbows in spaghetti sauce or when her tights get all dirty -- which is all the time now. So I'd probably have an attack if she got ketchup on a dress that cost upwards of $100. Yes, heart attack, that's the going rate for some of these dresses.  Especially considering how fast the little ones outgrow their clothes. That's such an over-said thing to say, but it's true. I have bags and bags and bags of clothing in the basement that the toddler K only wore once or never. Makes me sad.

Still, I couldn't resist myself, so I bought the toddler K two dresses from a small shop called Arza in Bilbao. The lady who helped me out said the store had been in her family for over a hundred years, and that all the dresses were hand-sewn there in Spain.

There's also have a pretty good selection of these clothes at El Corte Ingles -- which is the big department store in Spain, and is like a Bloomingdale's or Nordstrom-quality crossed with Wal-mart's diversity of products (they have groceries, electronics, bookstore, clothing, pharmacy, a cafeteria, etc.). The brand Dulces is especially nice. I got the toddler some pink shoes de charol that were Dulces. Got those in the sale bin, which was not easy to find.

I think the preference and tendency here in the U.S. is to dress our children like little adults. Hey, the toddler K has worn plenty of velour track suits in her 15 months, and she has Dereon jeans, lime green Adidas tennis shoes, jeggings, etc. etc. But I do like to mix it up with classic and traditional clothes when I can -- because if not now then it's never.

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 :)

Llegamos a Madrid! The toddler was as good as a one-year-old gets on the seven-hour but thankfully non-stop flight over, sleeping half the way and making friends with everyone around her the other half. Coqueta. Our inner clocks are totally out of whack but no matter because this is a night city so dinner at 9:30 or 10 p.m.? Sure, and have a glass of sangria to wash it down. Then a cafe con leche to stay up some more. I'll sleep when I get home -- or as my abuelo-in-law nos dijo, "Dormir cuando se mueran." Es cierto.

We (okay, it was the husband's idea) decided to go with an apartment rental for this trip and, I've gotta give him props, it was totally the best decision we could have made. We used HomeAway.com, which has vacation home, cabin, villa, apartment etc. rentals worldwide. There are other sites that do this as well. They are essentially a broker, or the glue, between property owners and you. It was as easy as booking a hotel through Expedia.

We went with a small, but very nice and modern-looking one-bedroom apartment that totally looks like it was plucked out of an Ikea showroom -- which is actually a good thing when you're talking about decorating small spaces. It's near the city center, two blocks from a metro stop and about a ten minute walk to the museums.

That's all good, but as parents, the big perk of an apartment versus hotel is that it has a kitchen with a washer/dryer (altho this Euro dryer doesn't seem to use heat), refrigerator, microwave and dishwasher. We can store milk AND wash bottles AND child's clothes. AND there's a corkscrew AND wine glasses in the cupboard. Hey, momma's gotta get some rest too, re-set that internal clock. Mmmm, vino de Rioja. Buenisimo!

It's really a fully-loaded apartment -- with flat-screen TV's, a DVD player, a playpen and baby bath, stereo, wi-fi, nice new dishes, pots and pans, fluffy towels and fluffy bed.

And get this -- it's waaaaaaay cheaper than staying at a nice or comparable-looking hotel. It's probably cheaper than staying at a crappy hotel. If you're traveling with a big family or with extended-family they have multiple-bedroom options. We saw some amazing properties here in Madrid, with beautiful terrazas and patio furniture, beamed ceilings, just gorgeous, for a great price. Or great compared to what you'd spend for a hotel.

So back to Madrid -- we've done lots already, which I'll write up soon. Right now I'm waiting for the toddler to pick-up Marid-speak. Vale? Vale.

The toddler K is totally content to be with her dolls and stuffed animals, especially los feos, apparently. This pic totally reminded me of this E.T. moment. Aw, my little alien child.

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!

It's one of those weeks where there's no fresh fruit or vegetables in the house and Frito pie actually seems like a pretty healthful dinner option because there is corn in those corn chips, right? The doggas are beyond needing a bath, needing to go to the vet and needing to get back on a walking schedule because they're obviously mad at us (probably because they want Frito pie, too) and have crapped and pissed in the house THREE TIMES in the past week.

The toddler needs shoes de charol for grandma's wedding this weekend (on a perfect 10.10.10) and winter shoes or boots and a whole winter wardrobe for that matter so she doesn't freeze her butt off in high-water pants and sandals.

I think we're out of milk, too. Ugh.

My roots need some serious camouflage. My heels need a sander. My fast-on-their-way-to-wizard-sleeve arms need a Shake weight. My fingers need a rest because I think I'm developing carpal tunnel and my arms and hands go to sleep at night. Good thing they do though, because at least part of me is sleeping. I need some serious sleep -- starting with ignoring the toddler when she cries at 3 a.m. and letting her fall back asleep IN HER OWN CRIB. I'm seriously done with getting kicked in the face every half hour from helicopter child in my bed. My lip started bleeding yesterday morning from the toddler blow. This is mama abuse.

The most frustrating thing I'm trying to deal with right now, though, is that in between work, life, family, and blogging I'm also trying my best to follow a running schedule so that I actually can cross the finish line for a half-marathon the husband and I are set to do (but not together, apparently, because I'm too slow. I'm like a Clydesdale, apparently. Nice. I should at least get Budweiser to sponsor me in that case.) next month. To his credit, the husband is really trying to be a good motivator by sending me links to running blogs he thinks might inspire me. Although throwing in the word Clydesdale in our running conversation isn't exactly an ego booster. I'm just numb to inspiration, apparently, no matter what I do, what I listen to or what I read. And this is totally an aside, but we get Runner's World and I was thinking, first, that every single cover seems to have the same woman on it, and second, where are the Latinas at? Apparently, not running because they ain't on the pages of this mag. Just saying.

I'm in a running funk. Billy Idol's Eyes Without a Face is my preferred "power song." More like zone out and let me get through it song. I play it on repeat, with a few annoying ke$ha songs thrown in.

I did find some comfort reading Culture Mami right now talking about the life/running juggle and the run-up to the marathon she's running in two weeks. I have no aspirations to do 26.2 miles, but I totally admire women, especially mamacitas, who do. I don't know how other moms feel, but birthing is hard up until the point when the anesthesiologist rides in on his/her white horse to put in that glorious epidural. By comparison, running a ten mile race last spring made me feel like my uterus was going to fall out of my vajeen (como dijo Borat. Yes, I'm fond of quoting such high-brow folks, I know).

And in other good news (since I'm so full of it today), a new study shows how the thinner a woman is, the bigger her paycheck is bound to be. Average-weight women are penalized by earning less, and obese women can forget-about-it.

But the fatter a dude is, the fatter his wallet gets.

So. Not. Fair.

Everything on my to-do list will get done, I know. It usually does. But right now my fingers are tingling which means one thing -- Bed Time!! And its after midnight. Lord, where did the day go?

I am a sucker for DIY. Once in a while, I'll dig out my crafting crap from the basement and give it a whirl. It's all those specialized tools I bought at Michael's -- that in the store I was totally convinced I needed -- but have no idea how to use mostly because I'm not patient enough to follow written directions. Oh yeah, I also have a pretty sweet Singer sewing machine that my husband bought me for Christmas around the time Project Runway made its debut. Yeah, me and how many other people thought that they'd somehow learn how to sew and become brilliant designers overnight, make it on the show the following season, and become Tim Gunn's darling. Ha! The clothing I attempted to make was hideous and unwearable. Carry on, carry on.

These days, I have no delusions about having time to learn how to sew or even cook a meal that takes longer than fifteen minutes to slap together. Good thing that now I feel a vicarious sense of accomplishment just by watching h HGTV or Food Channel -- or Biggest Loser :)

But if I really feel like actually accomplishing something, I can always go to a crafts show. I don't mean an old school crafts show, either. I'm talking about the Crafty Bastards Arts and Crafts Fair that happens every fall in DC. It's like the physical embodiment of Etsy -- with tons of indie artisans and young hipster crafters hand-making everything from felt or crocheted toys; recycled silver or clay jewelry; original prints to hang on your walls; screen-printed t-shirts or onesies; reusable coffee sleeves; headbands and tons of other stuff. Lots of recycled, lots of felt, lots of hand-sewn, lots of unique singular style.

And lots of overusing the words cool and cute. But it's pretty much true -- everything there is pretty much cool and/or cute.

Last year, I bought the most awesome stuffed and mounted unicorn head that hangs above the toddler's crib. Love it so much, I'll even overlook that Candycorn's story is that this unicorn is meth addict from the Plushkill Forest and could possibly scare the child as soon as she realizes its not like her other toys.

I also got a fabulous for-mom family birdie necklace for myself -- great gift, btw.

This year's show was this past weekend and the husband bought a cute bunny love t-shirt for the toddler.  And I totally regret leaving without buying this nameplate necklace that says Mala. I'm totally going to get it on the Etsy store. Makes me think of the song by DLG: Juliana que mala eres. Que mala eres Juliana.

THANK GOODNESS FOR ETSY. And the Etsy Addict iphone app :) It's like the Crafty Bastards that keeps giving all year long.