On the first day of the new year, and the first day of my sixth month living in Mexico, I pulled a cookie sheet out of the oven and burst into tears. “Why are you crying? They’re just cookies.” My husband was perplexed. “Just leave me alone!” I wailed dramatically.

Of course, the tears weren’t about the cookies, not really. After five months and a holiday season away from friends and family, I was feeling a little lonely and homesick and was craving the familiarity of my grandmother’s cookie recipe. The project did not get off to a good start. Butter in Mexico doesn’t really soften when left out, and I didn’t have a hand mixer, so I tried out the dough function on the food processor. It wasn’t the right texture and the taste was a little off, but I scooped out dough balls onto a baking sheet and slid them in the oven with warn off temperature markings. Taking my best guess at the correct temperature, the first batch came out overdone and slightly burnt on the bottom. I adjusted the temperature, the oven rack, and the cooking time and tried again with a second batch. When they came out burnt again, the tears flowed. I pulled myself together, turned the oven to the lowest setting and ended up with two dozen over-cooked cookies and six perfectly cooked ones. The texture was still a little off, but they would do.

My experience baking cookies is the epitome of my life in Mexico. For the past five months, I have been fumbling my way through things that I didn’t even have to think about in the U.S. There has been a lot of trial and error trying to figure out how to adult in Mexico. It’s like being 22 again, except I can’t just call my mom or dad to ask how to do things like where to get a pump for our drinking water jug, how much it should cost to fill our propane tank, or how to make a name correction with the tax office. Some days I’m able to roll with the punches, and some days I cry over burnt cookies.

After angry washing the dishes from my botched cookie job, I decided that I needed to go for a run to recenter. I threw on shorts and a tank top and set off with my dog on the trail behind our neighborhood. The sun was shining, it was 75 degrees out, and there were currently no fireworks going off to freak out the dog. Living in Mexico isn’t all burnt cookies and frustrations. It’s also sunny skies, delicious food, rich culture, extensive history, and cactus lined vistas. And much to my dog’s dismay, lots of fireworks.

I’m definitely learning to do without certain conveniences, to improvise, and adapt. It isn’t always easy, but for all of the challenges there are plenty of rewards as well. This year my goals are to run more (off to a good start thanks to the cookie disaster!), become conversational in Spanish, and to write authentically about my experiences in Mexico. For anyone out there considering moving to Mexico, I’m going to keep it real and write about the good and the challenging. I will also include how-to guides and information on things like getting a work visa and bringing a pet to Mexico. I hope you will join me for the ride.