Years ago, my mom complimented a woman on her hat as she walked out of Sunday Mass. I watched as the woman accepted the compliment and said something like, “Oh, you can have it!”

Mom tried to protest, but the woman insisted and placed the red hat on mom’s head. Mom got a new hat and a story to tell with it.

Anyway, I didn’t think she still had the hat until Sunday when she brought it out. I still don’t know why she brought it out, but it quickly became a photo prop. First Adrian tried it on, then Valerie, then me, Sean, Josie and mom.

Who do you think wore it best? Clockwise from top left: Sean, Adrian, Josie, Mom, Valerie.

The Diptic app only has room for 5 photos, so I left myself out of the collage.

Dear GP,

Happy birthday!

When I look back at these photos, I’m reminded of a great year in which our bond as sisters grew stronger. It also reminds me of what I already know: you’re a beautiful bad-ass. They’re not so good at showing that you’re smart, kind, hardworking, generous, talented, funny and an excellent cupcake/cookie/brownie baker. Nor do they capture how lucky I feel to have you in my life.

Here’s to another year of getting all dolled up, being goofy when appropriate (or not), exploring new places and admiring nature, running a race or two, and keeping stress in check for that little event in September.

Love you more than Lilo loves Stitch,
C

Last year, I wrote that I never fantasized about my wedding. I lied. I thought about dresses and honeymoon locations a lot as a kid.

My family used to visit my mom’s brother and his family in San Diego a few times a year. I loved the visits to tío Beto and tía Ana’s house mainly for the pool and hot tub in the back yard. 

When I wasn’t in the pool or watching TV, I was in the waiting/dressing room outside tía Ana’s workshop. The garage had been converted to a workspace where tía Ana constructed beautiful wedding gowns and other formal dresses. I didn’t spend too much time in garage. It was crowded with the large worktable, bolts of shiny white fabric and lace, 2 or 3 sewing machine work stations, and an ironing board and steamer. Plus, I was likely to get a spare pin in my foot or get my grubby hands on some expensive fabric.

The waiting/dressing room was a safe space. There was a couch, plenty of space and dozens of bridal magazines. I’d flip through these stacks admiring the lovely gowns and baffled by the advice sections. I never knew addressing wedding invitations could be so complicated. I don’t recall any longterm impressions from the gowns or what I thought of them aside from “oooh, pretty!” I do recall the honeymoon and travel sections. I adored the photos of white beaches and blue oceans in tropical locales. They reminded me of the beaches I saw in my parents’ photos from their anniversary trip to Cancún. It was through Brides or Modern Bride that I learned of the Poconos and the champagne-shaped hot tubs in honeymoon suites. They looked cool, but I was confused as to how people actually got in them. (I’m still not really sure where the Poconos are.)

Tía Ana made the flower girl dress I wore for another aunt’s wedding; she also made the dresses for the bride and the bridal party. That flower girl dress was reused twice as a First Communion dress and as a Halloween costume. She also made the poofy pink and white dress I wore for my quinceañera.

She gave up the business a while ago, so I can’t go to her to make my wedding dress. I’m not sure she’d want me as a client anyway. I’m too indecisive about these things.  

The second family Christmas party felt like déjà vu from last week.

The similarities:

We had an abundance of delicious food and desserts. Everyone contributed something to the spread.

Family came in from out of town to join the festivities. Our out-of-state family members didn’t make the trip, but it was great to see the family from San Diego.

Minel did his part for the adorable baby/toddler quota.

One of my male family members volunteered to dress up as Santa and pass out gifts. Last week it was my cousin Jesus, this week it was tío Beto. Of course, Minel wasn’t into the Santa thing. He was just as resistant as Olivia last week. [Side note: even though Minel and Olivia are not related, I think they could be fraternal twins. It must be the curly hair and the proximity in age.]

Dad got out the guitar and we sang some Christmas carols. Adrian accompanied him on the snare drum.

I brought a second beautiful piñata and my cousins’ kids gave it a beating. Since these kids are older, taller and stronger, we had to handicap them in some way. After diving in to the melee for some candy, Padrino José passed out the bolo, or the traditional grab bag of peanuts, cookies, candies and tangerines.

Once again, I felt like I got hosed when it came to the height genes when standing next to my tall cousins. Nancy, Vanny, Valerie and my sister will all be part of my wedding party next year. I either need to make them wear flats or wear the highest heels I can find, if only for photos.

I forgot my camera this week and relied on my iPhone. Luckily, Sean brought along his camera and tried out his new flash and diffuser. He was a good sport being the unofficial photographer.

The differences:

Instead of doing a white elephant, we were much nicer an did a Secret Santa. Sean picked Papá Chepe and bought him a newsboy cap. I think he wears it well.

Also, we played some games. In the past we’ve done Wii games and karaoke. This year we kept it less physical with a round of Taboo amongst the cousins.

We got to open more presents!

Christmas Day was super low key as it’s been for the last 10+ years. Since we went to Mass on Christmas Eve, I just spent the afternoon and evening lounging around the parents’ house. My brothers spent most of the day with their girlfriends so it was just Lori, the parents, Sean and me. We watched a few basketball games, ate leftovers for dinner, and played card games. It wasn’t too different from most Sundays.

A few years ago my family began hosting an annual Christmas party for the Mosqueda side of the family. I think for several years after my grandparents passed, it felt like we’d lost some of our holiday traditions. We always host the party a week or so before Christmas so that it doesn’t conflict with Christmas Eve gatherings. Typically, Mexicans gather on Christmas Eve and do all the fun stuff — including presents — then.

This year my family hosted the biggest party. Part of the family who moved out to Texas years ago returned. It was good to see my aunts and uncles again. Last year, tía Nellie and tío Rick came to LA for tío Joe’s funeral. This time they brought their spouses and kids to celebrate and have fun.

After a dinner that included the requisite tamales and several other options (roast beef, pasta, meatballs, fried chicken, etc) and digging in to the dessert table, my dad got out his guitar and we sang a few Christmas carols.

Santa showed up shortly afterward and the kids went crazy. Well, most of them. My cousin’s 18 month old wasn’t too keen on sitting on his lap. The adults didn’t get anything from Santa except a photo op.

We cleared out the tables and set up the piñata. Even if Isabelle hadn’t asked me a few times when it was time to break the piñata, she would’ve gone first as one of the youngest. Again, her little sister wasn’t interested.

The adults played a white elephant game, we took lots of photos and then cleaned up.

I’m glad I didn’t miss this year’s party. Last year I was in New York with Sean. This year he got to meet the Texas side of the family. It was nice to hear my tía Nellie welcome him in to the family.

Even though I attended a few low key holiday parties for Job1 and Job2 last week, I didn’t really feel in the holiday spirit. It usually takes me a few weeks in to December to begin to feel like it’s Christmas. This weekend I couldn’t help it. Seeing toddlers go crazy for Santa and singing carols with my family is enough to snap me out of my grinch mood. Candy and baked goods help too.

Photos mainly by Sean.

Las posadas begin today and continue all the way until Christmas Eve. Reading Maura’s post on what las posadas mean to her reminded me that I need to buy the piñata for the first of two family Christmas parties on Saturday. Actually, I’m on piñata duty for both parties.

Anyway, the piñata comes after my favorite part. Singing “Las Posadas Villancicos”, or the actual song sung by two groups, one indoors and one outdoors.

En nombre del cielo
os pido posada,
pues no puede andar
mi esposa amada.

Aquí no es mesón
sigan adelante,
yo no puedo abrir
no sea algún tunante.

It goes on for several more stanzas.

For our family parties, we don’t actually go to our neighbors’ homes. Some of them would have no clue what we’re doing. And it’s been 20+ years since we did anything as elaborate as making costumes and setting up a nativity scene complete with an actual baby and a stuffed donkey.

We go much more low key. Our posadas are just a part of the family party. We split up the group in two. One goes outside and sings the part of Joseph asking for lodging. The second group sings the part of the innkeepers denying Mary and Joseph a place to stay.

My favorite part is always the joyful end when the kind innkeepers let in the Mary and Joseph and the tone of the song becomes much more joyful, “entre santos peregrinos.”

I can’t fault Maura for focusing on the food. I love ponche, canela (above), chocolate, champurrado and other sweet drinks to warm one up on a cold night. Paired with a buñuelo or some pan dulce, it’s even better.

But when it comes to las posadas and the family party, I’m too busy singing to grab a bite or a drink.

Tía Ofelia, descanse en paz (rest in peace)

A while ago, I wondered what it was like for my father to grow up stateside while all his extended family was in Guanajuato. I felt like my father had been cheated of the relationships with his cousins, aunts and uncles I had thanks to proximity. I teared up thinking about how lonely it must have been for his parents and siblings without the support of their extended family nearby.

Despite this, my father is actually quite close to his cousins. You wouldn’t know that they didn’t grow up in the same town or ranch if you saw them interact. Well, my dad would stick out. He doesn’t look like he knows the first thing about driving a tracker or managing a ranch. But the resemblance between him and his cousins is uncanny.

In 2004, I took some time to get back to my roots in Mexico. As I prepared for my first trip in a dozen years, my parents were jealous. They told me I’d be treated like a rockstar. And I was, even if I was the only kid from the LA side of the family to visit. Everyone wanted to see me, take me to see the sites, made sure I ate well and overall I enjoyed my trip. A few of the kids started calling me Cindylandia. I loved it and in a short time developed a connection to people I was meeting for the first time as an adult — I didn’t remember much from my trips as a kid, and nothing from the trips as a baby.

One of those people was tía Ofelia, who lived on the ranch just outside of Salamanca. She was always much quieter than her many brothers (nine in total!), but she was kind and inviting. When we last visited in 2007, she accompanied another uncle, Max, and my parents on a short road trip to Morelia. We spent the day there with my great aunt and her children and grandchildren.

I knew tía Ofelia was gravely ill, but was still surprised to learn of her passing (via Facebook, oddly enough). My dad got a call from nephews in Houston.

Rest in peace, tía Ofelia.

On Friday evening, my mom called.

“Do you have a Disneyland annual pass?”

“Yeah,” I told her.

“Okay, good. We’re taking Papá Chepe and Mamá Toni to Disneyland on Sunday with your tía Martha, she has a pass. Do you want to go?”

“Hmmm, my pass isn’t good on Sunday, we’ll have to pay. Let me think about it.”

Sean was down to go and it seemed worth the expense to spend a day at Disneyland with my grandparents. I don’t know who came up with the idea to take my grandparents to Disneyland. Maybe after dinner on Thursday, tía Martha was talking about how her pass expires soon and she planned to go on Sunday. My mom might have chimed in that she had some free park hopper passes. Either way, plans came together to take my grandparents to Disneyland for the first time in 35 years.

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I’m slow when it comes to recapping weekends, vacations and fun days with the family. It’s worse if I have to upload and edit pictures. I know some bloggers do this daily and even recap each day of their vacation, but I can’t do that.

After being back at work for a couple of days, I’d like to go back and relive the long weekend — except for that part on Saturday night when the UCLA football team forgot to show up at the Coliseum. Yikes.

Other than Saturday night, the long weekend was filled with good times.

Sean and I kicked it off by watching The Muppets on Wednesday evening. We both loved it as did the rest of the audience in the theater. I plan to see it again soon. I’m pretty sure I missed some cameos and jokes because I was laughing too much (manically, of course). I’d also like to learn some of the original songs and add them to my karaoke go-to song list.

After for going for a sunny mid-day run on Thursday, I headed over with Sean to my madrina’s house in East LA. Madrina Chilo always hosts Thanksgiving and other family members bring sides and desserts. By the time Sean and I arrived a little after 3 with our sweet potato casserole, most of the family had already eaten. I’d barely eaten in the morning so, I couldn’t be bothered to photograph my first plate. After scarfing down turkey, ham and lots of carby sides — stuffing! mac and cheese! — we retired to a spare bedroom with the rest of the cousins.

We played Imagine If and Last Word, took silly photos, and tried to keep baby Minel from stealing our cell phones. I liked the Last Word. It’s an easy game to set up and play with several people. It also made us laugh a lot as we tried to think up words that went along with the category (e.g. things in a purse) that started with the designate letter. Before everyone went home, we also picked names for the big family Christmas gift exchange.

I hope Sean enjoyed his first Thanksgiving with my family, even if he didn’t get his usual turkey leg… at least not initially. I luckily was in the kitchen just as Madrina Chilo was carving the second turkey and asked for the turkey leg to take home with my other leftovers. Yes, I brought my own tupperware.

I didn’t do any late night shopping on Thursday or hit the stores for deals on Friday and attempted to make some pumpkin pie. It didn’t work out well, but redeemed ourselves with some brownies. Instead, we ate leftovers, watched movies (Drive and The Muppets Take Manhattan) and were lazy.

Saturday was another chill day. I supported some small businesses (local nail salon for a pedicure, tacos from a local restaurant). I didn’t watch the USC/UCLA game since I don’t have cable. Instead I just got ESPN updates with each scoring play. A 50-0 loss sucks, but I wasn’t terribly disappointed or embarrassed. I’m not the one on the field or sidelines. Nor am I the one hiring and recruiting the coaches and students involved with the football program. There are many other reasons to be embarrassed and ashamed by college football programs and your alma mater than losing in a blowout to your rival.

At the end of the game, I thought of the UCLA marching band’s post-game ritual. I was in the band during my first two years, it was fun, but time consuming during football season. After each game, we’d play the alma mater, “Hail to the Hills of Westwood” on the sidelines. If we won the game, we’d play and sing a silly song called “Rover.” Then we’d change out of our uniforms and get back on the bus to Westwood. As our buses traveled the final few blocks in to campus, we’d sing the alma mater a second time. I miss those moments and wanted to sing the alma mater again even if it wouldn’t be followed with “Rover.” Maybe when I finally graduate, I’ll audition to be the singer at the ed school ceremony. That would be cool.

I love Halloween. I love my family. And I love parties. (Though not in that order!) Saturday night brought all three together at my cousin Nancy’s Halloween party.

First off, Nancy (as an Adelita) was the perfect hostess. She and her helpers did an awesome job decorating the house, preparing food and snacks, ribbons for the best costume winners, and making sure everyone had a great time.

My favorite decorations were the white van in the driveway with a label bearing the name of the San Bernardino County coroners office and the family graveyard in a corner of the yard. My siblings and several cousins had headstones, but my cousin Tony didn’t make one for me. I didn’t mind, but Lori was sad to find her headstone.

I also liked the silly best costume ribbons.

The best part — aside from the food, drinks and dancing with friends and family — was checking out everyone’s costumes. It’s always fun to see costumes come together or seeing what someone came up with. More costumes after the jump.

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