Mexico has little bananas.

They're not all little, of course

but you can get them that way if you want.

Josu loves these babies;  he can eat about twenty of them in one sitting.

When we got out the little bananas for breakfast this morning, we had a photo shoot with them. 

it just seemed right.

Sometime Josu asks me to race him;
I usually say yes.

Sometimes he asks me if I would rather  run-race or skip-race.

and I'm like - "um skip-race, of course"
because there is very little in life that makes me as happy as seeing Josu skip.
(If you ever saw him skip,
you would totally understand)

Do you ever have those days where you crash into bed late at night  - and you only have 30 seconds of mental awareness left in you- and you use it all to thank God that the bits of your day that seemed out of your control were not out of his control?

And then you wake up the next morning begging God for grace to patiently love your (bickering) children . . . because you are painfully aware of the sin in your own heart, and you are desperate for the help that only Jesus can give?

I think I've had a week of those days.
I'm tired.
(sigh)
but I'm thankful for those days.

They remind me that I can't live without Jesus;
and that he is always enough.
(always) 

We spent the weekend celebrating Mexico.

We waved Mexican flags,
ate Mexican food,
listened to Mexican karaoke (maybe next year we'll sing?),
and felt thankful for this country that has generously welcomed our family into the rhythms and customs of every day life.

We walked to the grocery store this evening to pick up some things for dinner.  On our way home we found a slimy green fountain (you know, the kind of fountain that's not fountaining any more . . . ) and Joshua and I counted for the kids as they took turns racing down the ledge;

and I am reminded tonight how much I really like not having a car.  There have been about, um, maybe 2.75 times that I have wished for one this past year, but all the other three billion times that I've thought about it, I have only been thankful to live without one;   My list of reasons is probably a mile-long, but tonight it's just because I love the way that it pushes us out into our community - - the way that it forces us to see and to be seen - to know and to be known.

This is our neighborhood.
we are claiming it - one walk at a time.

we planted a bean (two, actually - just in case)
we will water it
and hope it grows

Last week we met Yujin.
she was sent our way by Ariel (who we met 2 weeks ago)

Yujin - we quickly found out - was from Korea and had been backpacking around the world for the past seven months; and she needed a place to stay while she spent her last night in Mexico City.

It actually ended up being four nights (oops, I guess we misread that email . . . ) but it worked out well because Yujin was the best sort of last minute guest:
she told us all about the places she had been, the food she had eaten, and the ways that her trip had changed her life.  We pulled out our globe and she traced out her journey from one country to another.  She went on walks with us, made us a Korean dinner, lent the kids her camera, and introduced Josu and Selma to Korea's favorite pop singers.

We said our goodbye's on Wednesday.
The kids sent Yujin off with their favorite book and about a billion hugs
and she took a little piece of our heart
back to Korea.

(above: Malachai got his hand on Yujin's camera and took this sweet picture of us.  He also took pictures of an ambulance . . .  )