So the other day I read this article that said that my kid should be able to write his name, so I’m sitting here with him trying to get him to write just the letter K, and well he colored it in nicely, but that is it. His name is Killian, I don’t know if I have mentioned that before or not. All of these letters consist of straight lines excluding the a, witch is a circle with a tail. It isn’t very complicated.

The other day my mother-in-law said he needed to go a specialist because she doesn’t think he understands anything. He seems to understand everything just fine with me; there is a serious lacking of him giving a shit about more or less anything, besides candy and TV. I think that is might have just turned 13 not 3 because he has the ability to be a smartass already, and he talks back. I asked him if he wanted to see the back of my hand and he just showed me his, he didn’t hit me he just showed me. I’m in trouble.

I come to find out Tarzan has a bladder infection pink pee is bad. Pink pee was probably the first sign that he had a bladder infection but it just made so much since that his pee was pink as a result of eating 10 bags of cotton candy.

Today Tarzan slipped and fell in the mud so he was hurried into the shower, and I went to check on him and I found him eat eating his gum off of the wall. GROSS!!!

So I am treating myself to a batch of brownies, yes I said batch!!

We celebrated Tarzan’s 3rd birthday on Saturday, and now I think he is a little spoiled. I guess it is OK, if we do that sometimes. Don’t worry it is too expensive to make a habit out of it. This is how it all went down, we had cotton candy delivered and Tarzan ate 5 bags of it on Saturday, and then he ate the remaining 5 bags on Sunday, and then he had pink pee for 2 days. His party also included a swimming pool, dinosaur trampoline thing, clown, piñata, and god only knows. It was his first real birthday party, and it was also the first time that he has ever really received an abundance of presents all at one time. So he was truly excited, there was a lot of oohs, aaaaahs, and wows. He is precious. I love him the most. I should just thank god he didn't go in to a sugar induced coma, because I love him the most!

This is just in case anyone has forgotten that he is the cutest kid in the whole world. Even if he is Tarzan, a cat, a dog, and now Superman more often then he is a little boy. Mi Amor!

So I am going to blog about my car again, really I don't want to, but talk about a run of bad luck, and I love the car so much. I don't know if I will ever part with it. Now the motherfucker is just broken. Hijole!!

When it rains here is Zihua, it floods. There isn’t adequate drainage. Well let me clarify some of the streets drain fine and others fill up to the point the look like small rivers or large creeks.

Tarzan goes to school in Ixtapa and it is about 15 min. from our house. It was raining and the streets where filling about at a steady pace, but I got him to school without any problems. On the way back home I needed to stop at the market and the rain had stopped completely so I was relieved that I would be able to go to the market and not have to worry about parking or whatnot. Well were I would normally turn left, I had to take a right by the ways of bad luck. There was a manhole spooking water out of it, it looked like a fucking water fountain. So by taking this right I might as well have turned into a river. And I continued up this road for quiet awhile because my car was still running and I was hoping that I would come out of the water. As I looked ahead there seemed to be cars just randomly parked so I took this as a seriously bad sign, so I popped the car in reverse and parked the motherfucker on the sidewalk. Then I had to truck my extra prego self threw knee deep shit water for more then a mile, to get to the market and then home.

After a couple of hours of it not raining, I had to walk back and hope to god that the car turned over, and it did. The passenger side of the car had about 3 inches of water in it. The kind of luck that car has been having, this was a relieve.

More about my car. While I was in the states, someone ran into the backside of the car. The kids at Sr. Frogs broke the windshield, I feel like something else happened, but I can't remember at the moment, and then when I got back the fucking thing got stolen. Poor Car.

Let me make a clarification, when I say shit water, I mean shit water. Half of the population of the community lives out in the mountains, and they don’t have modern type pluming. So when it rains it cleans up the mountains loose waste like piss and shit. So it really is shit water.

After almost a week of the car being impounded, I finally have the car back. It doesn’t run very well, everything is gone, and there are some plants hanging out of the bottom of the car.

The things that were stolen… stereo, everything in the glove box, floot mats, Tarzan’s Lightning McQueen, I million C.D.’s, Digital Camera, Battery Charger, Ribcurl Luggage, Roxy Luggage, and a photo of Killian. Out of all the things that were stolen the luggage and the floor mats are the most ridiculous. The Roxy luggage is this huge purple piece of luggage with a Hawaiian print on it. It sticks out really bad, and in all of the times that I have used it I have never seen anyone else with the same luggage, and the Ribcurl piece isn’t less inconspicuous. The floor mats are for an Acura Integra, they have INTEGRA embroidered into them, and they are custom fit for that kind of car. In the 4 years that I have been here I have only seen another Acura Integra 2 times, so as far as it being something to sell I don't think so. Maybe welcome mats for there house.

Yesterday we took that car to electricians to have something installed in the car so someone can’t just drive off with it. The electrician said that whoever took your car defiantly has keys for it. So I had the locks at the house changed, because if they have my car keys chances are they probably have my house keys too.

The Mexican Lover also told the electrician that if the car is stolen after he has installed this what not that he is going to come back and kick his ass, because he is the only one that will know about it besides me and him.

I think I know who did it and know one wants to believe me, the things that were left in the car were some of Tarzan’s clothes, and shoes, things that are size friendly. Things that wouldn’t fit his kids.

In a couple of weeks I have Tarzan’s 3rd birthday and in September I am having another baby. Now I don’t have a camera, I have to have the car fixed, and try to figure out how to replace all of the things that were stolen. Fun Fun.

I am a little agro!

So my car was found Friday afternoon, and it is now Tuesday evening and they won’t give it back to me. The amount of paperwork and time that has gone into this process is ridiculous.

Since I am an American citizen I think that it is important that both of my kids are also American citizens. Since Tarzan was born in the states this is a none issue for him, but the baby on the way will be born in Mexico. So I went and trucked my fat ass down to the US embassy to find out what I need to do when the baby is born to insure his US citizenship. Well to my surprise it isn’t that much.

So what I now know is that it is harder to get your car out of impound then to make my child that will be born outside of the US a US citizen.

Before I went to the states, there was a traffic control type police officer that would pull me over on what felt like a regular bases. Then I would see him all over the place and he would wave and smile at me like we were good buddies. I must say that the feeling wasn’t mutual, but I would give a half ass snicker, because on the other hand he would never actually fine me I would just pay a small bribe and go on with my day. Every time I would be pulled over is because I would have done something wrong.

The other night my car was stolen from my parking space that is literally just feet away from my front door. The Mexican Lover arrived home from work around 3 am and asked me where the car was, and I had just woken up so I was a little disoriented and thought he was trying to play some bad joke. Then he called the police and here you have to actually go down to the police station and make a report so his brother came and got him and the went down to the police station.

The next day his dad came and got him because there is apparently another office that you have to go and report your stolen car to incase something horrible happens in it like someone is murdered in it or the car is used for extra shady operations. You can make reports until you are blue in the face, but without proof that you own the car, know one seems to really care.

Like any normal person my registration is in the glove box, but unlike any normal US citizen I live in Mexico. So yesterday I received a lesson in how the laws work in this country and experienced the inconveniences of my country.

Last summer I paid off my car, and I asked whom ever I spoke with on the phone to mail the title to my grandma’s house; they acted as if this wouldn’t be any kind of a problem. So just a few weeks ago when I was in the states, I called my grandma and asked if I could get the title from her, and she told me that she didn’t have it. So I called the bank and I am currently have the papers mailed here to Zihuatanejo, but they won’t be here for weeks to come.

So the DMV agreed to fax me a copy of my registration…. To a fax number in the states. So I had them fax it to one of the local grocery stores, where whom ever I talked to about the fax said that it wouldn’t be a problem for my mom to turn around and fax it to me Mexico.

During all of this the Police Officer that pulls me over all of the time found my car parked in some bushes about 20 min. north of here. He recognized the car and pulled over to see what was going on and to his surprise there wasn’t anyone in the car, the windows were down, and the doors unlocked.

So he drove to all the way back to my house to ask The Mexican Lover, where is your car? The Mexican Lovers response was I don’t know it was stolen. Then the Polie said, oh I know where it is.

So we went down to retrieve the car from impound and hoping that maybe possibly the registration would still be in the car. No such luck, who ever stole the car went as far as stealing the floor mats. They went ahead and left Tarzan’s car seat, because god for bid anyone besides gringos use them.

So they won’t let me have my car, I need some kind of proof that I own the car……. So all my mom needs to do is go down to the store and resend the fax. Sounds easy enough. Well it has been more the 24 hours and she still hasn’t done it. I think I have called her close to a million times.

So today there is a photo of my car in the newspaper, because no one has claimed it. It is an abandoned car. So I am hoping that who ever stole my car, whoever has all the paper work for my car doesn’t go down the police station and claim it.

I should be happy that I will probably, eventually have the car back. I feel extremely violated, and I hate that I have to replace things that I have already paid for. The also stole photos of Tarzan, and left his backpack, shoes, and car seat and that scares me. Why would they want a photo of him?