meriah nichols mexico-22Villa Corona is an adorable little town about an hour from Guadalajara. It looks just like I thought a small town in Mexico would. Sleepy and colourful, with efficient, friendly beautiful and hospitable people. Amazing food. A rich weekly market with vegetables that could be placed directly in a Whole Foods display. Fresh cheese mongers, bakers, soap makers, and makers of every other type of thing that one might find useful or delight in (- we got a kick out of the sticker-maker and her spins on Che Guevara and other revolutionary leaders) (we also got a kick out of the guy selling roosters).

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dogs on the roof…everywhere
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horses just walking around on the sidewalks

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It’s an interesting. An easy place. Yes, the place where my iPhone was stolen, so there’s that, but it’s still a good place.

It’s also a cool place. Like, literally, cool. Freezing cold might be more like it. In the morning, it’s just as misty as it was on the Lost Coast and every bit as cold. Our breath would hang in the air in front of us, catching and clinging at the sides before fading into a chilled oblivion.

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I don’t know if we became sick from the cold at Villa Corona or if Villa Corona gave us the sick from the cold.

Could have been either, but while we were all struggling to get well enough to leave, we enjoyed being where we were. Even if, perhaps, where we were was the source of our sickness?

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reading Amy Julia Becker’s “Small Talk” – excellent, by the way, review coming soon (kids soaking up Brave. Again. )

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This is a hot-springs sort of resort/RV park. It gave Mikey some pretty big dreams of starting our own RV park along those lines – with smaller, private pools and with an eco-friendly, disabled-hiring theme. And why not? This area is CHOCK FULL of thermal water, lots of land for sale. Discounted land, to boot, on account of everyone’s current fear of Mexico. You know the theme song from Portland? “the dream of the 90’s is alive in Portland, Portland…”? – I was getting it in my head with a twist, “the dream of the Inn is alive in VC, VC….”

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It was fun to be our version of spiders and spin dreams out from our heads in glittery, silvery silk, weaving elegant (fantastical!) designs to snare our futures upon.

It was wonderful to have the most thoughtful, generous, cheerful RV neighbours one could possibly hope for – I’m talking, taking Micah to teach him Scottish songs, baking us to-die-for cookies, gifts for the kids to entertain, you name it. It made Mikey and I feel bad to an extent – we’re a little at loss when people take us in and treat us like long-lost family. We don’t know what to do, how to reciprocate, we’re awkward with our thanks because “thanks” seems like such a small word for the big feelings of love and gratitude in our hearts.

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It was a good place to be.

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Here are some more photos:

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Catching up right here and now involves a whole lot of stuff like snot coming out of my kids, as well as raspy voices and big, splashy sneezes – the kind that explode right in your face, dousing you with all their germtastic glory.

Keeping Mack and Micah relatively snot-free isn’t that bad, but Moxie?! Oh man. Miss Independent gets down and throws tantrums if I try to wipe her nose for her. She’s got to do it by herself and that means she swipes her nose and rubs the stuff all around so her face becomes a mantle, if you will, of Cruste de Mucus.

I try to accept these things as badges of motherhood and be graceful and nurturing in the face of all this…drip but honestly? The stuff grosses me out and it’s a real struggle. I can’t even handle the snot sucker – Mikey is the sole manipulator of that tubular blessing.

So here we are and it’s Monday morning and it’s glorious outside. Mack’s nursing on me as I type over his head. Moxie is slumped down, crusted. Micah talks to everyone as he engages in his morning craftastic activity (I think he’s building a monster). I’m wondering what we can do that will engage everyone and yet not infect the outside world. I’m not sure if such a thing is even possible.

I want to write something really deep and meaningful for World Down Syndrome Day coming up – this Thursday (the 21st) but I’m not sure I have anything very deep and meaningful in me right now. I’m just trying to keep the snot at bay and not drink as much coffee as I want (- which is far, far more than a nursing mother should, I’ll tell you that!).

I’m also casting a lot of long, lingering looks at my painting that I’m working on. My One True Darling got it all set up for me and I find that’s all I want to do anymore: paint. And I’m reminded of the fact that I only continued blogging to the degree that I have because of the difficulty in painting (– with little kids running around, demanding time, with acrylics drying out quickly, with easels getting knocked over, and with concentration getting shattered). My heart really longs to paint though. I’m finding that even a few brush strokes applied here and there perks me up and sets my world much righter.

So here we are. The bookclub is polling a first book to read now – it might be fun for you to join. Here’s the embedded piece that goodreads encourages me to add!


I’m sorry, you guys. New poll. “Don’t Call Me Inspirational” costs over $60! The kindle version is $12 but I don’t think it’s fair to have only one affordable option (if someone doesn’t have a kindle, they would have to shell out a lot to participate…). Let’s hit the drawing board again. Thanks!

Moving Violations: War Zones, Wheelchairs, and Declarations of Independence
The Unheard: A Memoir of Deafness and Africa
The Question of David: A Disabled Mother’s Journey Through Adoption, Family, and Life
Loud Hands: Autistic People, Speaking
schuyler’s monster
Schuyler’s Monster: A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter

Schuyler’s monster


It’s Monday morning. Micah’s now belting out “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” in his gravelly, sick (and highly off key) little voice. It simultaneously breaks my heart and makes me smile.

Have a wonderful day.


First it was Little Man. He was was double dipped in fatigue, dragging himself from one place to another to sleep.

Flinging his feverish little body across the couch.

The bed. The floor.

Then it was Moxie-kins. Hot. Coughing in symphony with her brother.

Then I joined them. I hate being left out, after all.


It’s been rough, mothering two sick kids while sick myself. Oh, and hugely pregnant!  I fumble for words to describe what it’s like for those of you that don’t have kids… and I just completely fail. The best I can come up with is that it’s sort of like you just want to dig a hole and crawl in and sleep forever but INSTEAD, you have to feed, bathe and care for two coughing, whining, sickly creatures that cling like velcro when your skin doesn’t want to be touched. Let’s not forget about the cherry to Sick Sundae: that creature inside you that is pummeling you and kicking your bladder and inner organs.


If I can’t quite handle the “loving” and “gently nurturing” part of “mothering” while sick very well, at least I try and maintain my composure to not snap and crack and give my kids memories that will lead them to one more therapy session when they are older.

Despite it all, we’ve had some glimmers of sun, sparks of happy.

We played outside.

First tomatoes of the season, oh joy!

Micah started feeling better and his exuberant delight made us all smile.


I got stung by a bee on my tongue in what has to be the most freakish accident in the natural known world. The last time I got stung by a bee? Was in my armpit, while I was riding a bike.

Mikey says I better guard my butt. I think he’s right.


I finally saw my OB again. It had been forever. She’s chill with me, once she realized we’re really on the same page and I’m not lying to her about wanting to have Boo in the hospital.


I like her a lot.


We scheduled a c-section for October 31st, his actual due date. I got the coveted 7am slot – woo-hoo! If he’s not born before then naturally, we’ll slice him out.

I’m excited to meet him. I wonder what he’ll be like, look like?

And in the meantime.

There is a push to get well, be well. Stay well.



So that really just means we are sleeping a lot right now. Getting our equilibrium back. Our mojo, our moxie. I don’t have anything particularly fun or inspirational or groovy-in-any-sort-of-way thing to add to this post now. But I’d love it if you shot back with something funny you heard/saw/said this week because nothing is better than a good laugh, right?

And I hope you and yours are well and stay well.

Over and out. Have a great weekend


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