Skipping Over and Counting Blessings

Sometimes with the speed at which life travels, we skip over blessings that happen to us every day. And because they happen every day we forget to be thankful for them :

• making breakfast with my daughter as she carefully watches my every move
• putting on makeup and watching Rafa mimic me by brushing her face with my brushes or looking at herself in the mirror
• security guards that know us and watch out for us because we are their gente - their people
• a warm cup of a delicious Caramel Cappuccino
• lunch with Husband (how many people get to have lunch everyday with their spouse)
• dogs that bark and jump with nothing but excitement when you get home... every single time.

What everyday blessings could you be more thankful for?

Sometimes we are so busy looking forward to the big things that are going to happen in life that we miss the small things that are happening right now:

• sitting on the sideline with my daughter, watching her wave to Papi while he plays football with his friends
• chance meetings with someone you haven't seen in a while
• skyping with friends halfway around the world or an ocean between
• a glass of wine
• watching TV on your rooftop, in the open air, warm breeze hitting your face
• food shopping and not having to think about if we could afford to eat this week 

What small things are you missing?

And sometimes because we forget to honor all of the moments that we experience, we even bounce over the big blessings...

I'm pregnant. That's no surprise, right?

32 weeks in. My second one.

Either Husband or I must be as fertile as the crescent because for both pregnancies

- PREGNANT!

Our first time around, we weren't at all trying. At what literally must have been the moment of conception, then boyfriend now Husband suggested that I might want to cut out the booze for the next month... "just in case." I thought Is this guy crazy? There was no way I could be pregnant...

A little more planning went into the second one. We knew we wanted to have another child sooner rather than later and so we figured with Rafa at 9 months old, we could start trying. After all, it might take a little while...

If by little while, you mean ONCE, then yes... it took a little while.

But it wasn't just getting pregnant that was easy. Being pregnant was and has been easy too. The typical pregnant symptoms: some nausea - no morning sickness or toilet hovering, some heartburn - fixable with TUMS, less sleep - solved with some naps and resting, anemia, that I can't totally blame on pregnancy since I've had it before - made better with iron vitamins, and back pain - helped by Husband back rubs.

 But this isn't about how easy it was for me to get pregnant or be pregnant 

...sometimes we bounce over even the big blessings, remember?

I am grateful to be carrying such a miracle inside me but do I take it for granted?
Do I count that blessing everyday?

If I'm honest, I'd say no. I don't.

In the last few days, on three different occasions, I have been reminded that not everyone's path to this miracle is easy or even possible.

So many couples try... and try.

So many couples try different routes and treatments and procedures.

So many couples try and live through months or years of disappointment and sorrow.

And so many couples at the end of trying, and treatments, and disappointment... just can't. 

It's unfair. 

It's not biased.

It happens to the healthiest, the youngest, the wealthiest. It happens to the brunettes, the hard-working, the non-working, the most fit, the organic eating. 

Motherhood, as wondrous and magical as it can be, isn't always beautiful and doesn't always feel good. Even I, with my two easy pregnancies, know this. Because even through my easy pregnancies I have had my own struggles. With my bouts of overwhelming hidden fear and crying in my doctor's office about all of the things that could go wrong, to my images of smothering someone to death with my engorged, mastitis boobs if I heard one more person say that breastfeeding would come naturally and to give it time, to the times that I want to be selfish, selfish, selfish again - I know that motherhood isn't always dancing barefoot in the sunlight with your kid "easy."

It can be hard and ugly and unfair and certainly not easy. But I can still be grateful because many people would switch shoes if they could. And that is what sometimes, I bounce over. That not everyone is the lucky that you are today. All we could do, like in all other aspects, is to count the blessings. 

Big, small... 

All.

What are you blessed with today?

T-Minus 8 Weeks: Mission Baby Boy

Tomorrow will mark the 8 week countdown for Baby Boy's arrival.

Did you hear me?

I said 8 WEEKS!

And I'm nervous that by my calculations:

# of Kicks per Day                    Acceleration of his Movement
 Rate of Growth Speed     x       Deacceleration in My Movement      +     Heartburn

all divided by Feeling that Pubic Bone might Fall Out...

there's a good chance that I might take this kid out myself.

Literally, I'm just waiting for the ball, or rather - balls - to drop. (Sorry. I know that was very elementary school but it was just too easy of a joke to not take it.)

If all goes according to plan, however, Rafaella will be one and a half when Baby Boy is born - not potty trained, barely eating on her own, just mastering walking/running, starting to communicate well, and still licking the occasional flip flop. I try not to think too much about the insanity that will descend our household for the next incalculable # of days/months/years and stay positive in the many people we will have helping us, and the amount of support our friends will provide for us, and the excitement of having a new little baby - and a boy at that.

I can't help but wonder, in the same way I did with Rafa, what he will be like and look like. Will this one look more like Daddy? Will he and Rafa look alike? Will he be a sensitive artist type (haha Laura!) or a whirlwind athletic chap?

At the doctor last week, Rafa weighed in at 26.2 pounds for her 15 month appointment putting her in the 90th percentile for weight (the average weight for a 15 month girl being 19 - 27.5 pounds) and measured in at 33 inches putting her in the above 100th percentile for height (the average height for a 15 month girl being 28.75 - 32.75).

She's a big kid.

Will he follow suit? Will Husband and I have two dinosaurish children roaming the Earth?

With how my belly feels now, I have a feeling he's going to be mammoth. I have only gained a total of 14 pounds during my pregnancy so far and feel like 13.5 of those pounds is all Baby Boy. He jabs like a boxer and moves like Jagger all throughout the day.

I wonder sometimes, Is this what Bella felt like in Breaking Dawn: Part 1? 

Although, not to to toot my own horn (but I'm tooting), I definitely don't wonder if I look like her in Breaking Dawn: Part 1. 

Jokes aside, I can't believe that in 8 weeks we will have Baby Boy in our arms: tiny, fragile, new to the world Baby Boy, to rock and feed and wake up with at all hours of the night. I can't believe we get to do this all over again. I'll be eating my words, I'm sure, then, but right now it's kind of exciting to do it a second time - this time knowing what to expect.

With Rafa it all went so fast. That first month was so hard that like a roller coaster at the top of that first fall, I closed my eyes and hoped to God that I'd get through it. I remember moments like flashes. I remember not being sure some days if I had brushed my teeth or throwing on the same house dress just to say that I was "dressed." I remember leaving the house and not remembering what the outside world looked like or how I fit in it, shielding my eyes like a vampire (or Gremlin depending on your generation) from sunlight. I remember her morning naps giving me enough time to (a) take a shower, (b) make breakfast and eat half of it, OR (c) check emails - ONE not all three. I remember the times that she pooped on me or at me. I remember the frustration of breastfeeding and the victory of getting her to sleep.

But I remember all of these things clumping into one flash like they all happened together and so fast that before I could store them in my brain's memory they were gone. Poof!

My hope is that with Baby Boy we can take it in more; we can experience it more instead of holding on for dear life and being scared that we weren't buckled in.

As I say this he throws a hard jab to the left rib -

oh boy... this is going to be a fun ride.

Excelsior - A Yoga Retreat in Las Galeras

Set Scene: Wave roll.

"As you exhale, lift your left hand towards the sky, finding that gentle twist in your spine."

Set Scene: Waves crash, gentle breeze tickles my face and arms.

"Inhale. Reaching arms over your head. Lengthening through your spine."

Set Scene: Kevin, our yoga musician, plucks each guitar string gently creating beautiful music for our yoga practice.

"Opening your chest and heart, feeling your body stretch and extend."

Set Scene:  The sun begins to peek out of the morning clouds and Kevin's fingers, though they create their own original music, start to strum a familiar song, "Here comes the sun - doo doo doo doo. Here comes the sun and I say... it's all right." I smile a smile as though I have a secret with only myself.

"Release your hands back down and with it the weight of your life."

Whoa.
My yoga mind breaks concentration - if only it were that easy. To release my hands and with them the weight of all of my worries, all of my judgements, all of my negative emotions, all of my criticisms?

But why can't it be?

As in all things yoga, this statement - the idea of releasing the weight of the world - is a bigger idea; it transcends an 8am yoga class.

I think about this, about other "yoga truths" as I rest in child's pose - a pose that has become much harder to relax in with a belly 30 weeks full of baby. For some time, I've been feeling the need to reduce my stress, to be lighter with worry. Why? I often ask myself, do I stress myself out and sweat small things, when we are living the life of our choosing? Is it ever possible to just be?

Think about a mantra and repeat it silently three times as if it is already yours, Instructor says to us. So, for example, if your mantra is "love" than you should silently repeat I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. 

The first thing that comes to mind is Excelsior.

Having recently seen Silver Linings Playbook you would understand the reference. The title refers to Bradley Cooper's character trying to find the positive - the silver lining - in any situation, what he calls "excelsior." Since seeing the movie I have found myself using trying to use some "excelsior" in my own life, so when she instructs us to find a mantra, it just makes sense.

I repeat to myself three times silently I find silver linings. I find silver linings. I find silver linings. 

Inhale.

Armed with Excelsior and the realization that our yoga practice is like a Leo Leoni book, an allegory - a story that tries to convey a larger lesson or meaning to life - I start to see that while yoga is good exercise it is actually a deeper philosophy for living life.

Wow. Deep.

Exhale.

"It's not about the pose but about finding your place in the pose." 

When Instructor shares this little gem with us, I just about fall out of my current pose - dangerous for a third trimester baby holder. I've heard it before. There is nothing new in what she says but for the first time I really hear it. For the past few months, I have been wondering if I will ever be satisfied with where I am. Will I always need to keep moving, searching, writing, changing (list continues), to be happy?

I realize at this moment that life is not about the situation (the pose) but about finding my place within that situation. I could resist it or sink into it. I could judge myself on how I'm doing it or be proud that I'm doing it at all. I could allow myself to think I'm a bad mother everyday I leave the house to write or stand true and tall that I am following my dreams, and in doing so, teaching my daughter to do the same especially when it's hard. I could let others try to make me feel guilty about my choices as a parent and our openly easier lifestyle here in Dominican Republic of having a nanny and a maid or decide that my choices as a parent to set up an easier lifestyle are what is making my family stronger.

It is about finding my way, my place in this pose of life.

"Give into gravity and the other things in life that you can't control."

And that is a lot. I don't get mad when I jump up high and come back down to the ground. I don't curse gravity for being what it is. So why do I curse the things that just are the way they are? Because I want to control them. Because I want things to be "fair." Because I want things to be different. But they aren't. Gravity will always bring you down. That is the job of gravity. Just as the sun will rise and the rivers will run.

Inhale.

Our dog, Jersey will throw up on the carpet instead of the tile floor. Every. Time. Traffic - especially in this city - will happen. The guard dog behind our apartment will bark passionately and mightily at the wee hours of the morning, waking up an already lousy sleeping pregnant me. The rules will be broken and exceptions will be made for me sometimes and not for me at other times. In-laws will always be a struggle. Marriage will change. Children will grow up. I will get older. My mother will always drive me crazy and be my favorite person at the same time. And I have no control over any of these things. If I remember this, really inhale and deeply breathe the idea that I have no control over changing someone else or making some situations different than maybe I could let them go and just keep moving forward.

Exhale.

"Let go of the notion of right and wrong. The ocean doesn't say This wave is wrong, it just moves. It lives. It breathes." 

In alignment with my cusp birthday (January 20 falls in some calendars as the last day of Capricorn or the first day of Aquarius), I am a mystery. Capricorns are known to be stubborn (or strong-willed if you want to say it nicely), confident, reliable, and calm. While Aquarius' are known to be witty, inventive, original, clever, and flighty. Husband will tell you that my "cuspness" makes perfect sense since often times he has NO IDEA how to figure me out. 

The Aquarius in me wants to let go of being right or wrong but the Capricorn in me has a hard time letting that happen.

Most times I am harder on myself than I am on anyone else. It's why our apartment is organized with labeled bins and designated spaces for each item. It's why clothes in my closet are color-coded and arranged by sleeve length. It's why I make my bed instead of having the maid make it. It's why when the maid does make the bed, I go back and rearrange the pillows in the order that I like them. If I'm not careful, I will be diagnosing myself with OCD very shortly.

Sometimes, and many times I am aware of these moments, I have to allow myself the space to be wrong or for things to not be exactly as I think they should be. I have never liked being wrong. It's not something I do graciously and luckily not something I do often - insert wink (^_-). So I gather my sources. I think and rethink. I decide the best way to handle any situation, including the ones that haven't happened yet. I have a plan of action for everything so that when something happens, I'm ready.

Being prepared, gathering information, thinking aren't bad things but it'd be nice to remember this idea that the ocean doesn't judge the rightness or wrongness of its waves. It doesn't have time to judge itself so harshly. The ocean, like us, does the best it can.

Inhale deeply.

"Wherever you decide to go from here is perfect."

Instructor moves us through different positions always reminding us that everybody's body is different depending on so many factors of our life: skeletal system, experiences, injuries, emotions. We are not all in the same place. We do not all sit in poses in the same way.

I discuss this idea with some people afterwards. Think about all of the things you have endured in your life. Heartbreaks, knee surgeries, marriages, asthma, taking care of your sick father, backaches, curvature of the spine, shoulder surgery, childbirth, hiking the Appalachian Trail, car accidents... how can we possibly think that what we look like will be the same as what someone else looks like doing the same pose? How can we think that anyone will react to the same situations in the same way when we come from such different places? Impossible. We have to make our own way, choosing our own perfect direction based on where we are coming from and where we need to go.

Our friend, Mary confidently tells us that her biggest strength in yoga is power and endurance. I think back to knowing that she played on her high school soccer team... as a beast I'm sure. She's a tough lady. Gina and I took dance our whole lives. Would it surprise you to know that our biggest strength in yoga is flexibility? Johanna, the choir teacher's strength... steady breathing.

Perfect.

"In your journey," Instructor says, "as long as you're moving in truth, you are exactly where you should be and going exactly where you need to be."

What an idea! That my journey and someone else could seemingly look alike but be different and that wherever I go and whatever choice I make is perfect because it's mine, my choice that I made while I was being true to myself and only myself.

What's right for you? What's true for you? As long as you're asking yourself this and answering it honestly, how can you end up in the wrong place?

Major Exhale. 

"Remembering that everything but breathing is optional."

Instructor instructs us through bends and tells us to find deep twists. She tells us to lift our arms and chests to the sky, to find connections and balances, to move to and from poses, to weave our arms behind our legs. 

Inhale.

Through all of this she tells us that we can stay in one pose or move to the next, that "either option is a beautiful option." She allows us the freedom to choose our pace and to choose what we want to do next or right now. Whichever. 

The only option we do not have is to breathe. Breathing is not optional. Both in yoga and in life, breathing is essential. No matter what position we are in we have to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Isn't that what people tell us when we're bawling our eyes out. Breathe. When we're so mad we want to punch a wall. Breathe. When we're delivering a baby. Breathe. When you're terrified of doing something. Just breathe. 

Exhale.

Isn't that the foundation of it all? Breathing

***

After my delicious yoga retreat weekend, I think about all of the things that I took away in my time away. Through many moments alone and many moments surrounded by original, intelligent, strong women you can learn a lot.

I take away that what matters is not ever 100% perfect and that perfect doesn't really exist because my perfect isn't your perfect. Your perfect downward dog might not be my perfect downward dog. My perfect husband who leaves me reasons that he loves me in hidden places around our apartment for me to find might not be your perfect. On a few days he's not even my perfect. Your perfect apartment might include a fireplace, mine a reading and writing nook. It's all relative. Perfect is an idea that rarely exists but that always holds you back. Ask any writer that has ever suffered from writer's block due to trying to find the perfect sentence or scribing the perfect paragraph. Like our yoga poses we are ever-changing. "Perfect" today isn't "perfect" tomorrow.

Only at this moment, as I'm finishing writing this post and looking Excelsior up in Wikipedia do I find out that Excelsior translates to "ever upward." I smile to only myself because it's been a long time since I have thought that a coincidence is only a mere coincidence. It's never a coincidence.

Finding a silver lining. Moving forward. Striving for more. Heading up. Not looking back. The perfect mantra...

... at least for me.

Soundtrack of My Life

This weekend was unbelievably unforgettable for so many reasons: the location - breathtaking, the company - inspiring, the time - relaxing, the ability to make whatever choice at whatever moment - priceless.

One of the biggest pleasures of my weekend; however, was something so simple and familiar and yet something I hadn't done in years: listening to music.

As I sat at the pool, taking in some rays, just me and my Baby Boy Bump, I plugged in my headphones - one end to my iPod the other end into my ears - and pressed PLAY.

I breathed deeply as we had in our yoga sessions and allowed myself to sink into each song. At times, I kepy my eyes closed and thought about how amazing a path my life was on; a path that allowed for long weekends with incredible friends and deep relaxation. Sometimes, I opened my eyes and looked around at where I was, with who I was and again came back to the same realization that the path I was on, at this moment, was not to be downplayed or overlooked. I am living a dream.  A romantic and beautiful man that I am happily married to, a gorgeous, intelligent daughter that makes my heart pound, terrific friends that buy me chocolate croissants and foot rubs on my birthday.

As Husband and I so often say This is a Good, Good Life.

Listening to certain songs I realized that this was the Soundtrack of My Life. I've often thought about this. If my life was made into a movie, what songs would make up the soundtrack?

Music has been such an integral part of my life for so long - thanks to my father that has loved and listened to all types of music from any and every genre imaginable - that it only makes sense that the big moments of my life have been accompanied by song.

And so I came up with the Soundtrack of My Life (in no specific order):


1. Good Life (One Republic) - this song makes me want to stand on the front railing of a ship with open arms, wind in my hair. The first time I heard this song, I was pregnant, planning my wedding, and our move abroad. I knew then that what we were about to embark on was something incredible. Special. Unimagineable. It made me cry. Still does. Part of my this blog, Our Buena Vida, is named after this song.

2. Conga (Miami Sound Machine) - when I was five, I shook my ass to most any song that my father played for me on his record player - yes I said record player - the same recorde player he still has. But Conga, ohhhh Conga. I have very fond memories of my mother getting ready for her afternoon shift as a toll collector at the Port Authority of Ny & NJ. I had just come home from Kindergarten, put on my favorite heels that my mother owned and danced to the record of Conga. And when it was done? "Maaaaaami?! Could you play Conga again?!" She had no choice but to redrop the record needle to the beginning of the song.

3. Yellow (Coldplay) - When Husband and I were deciding the music to our wedding, there was no question that this was the song that I would walk down the aisle to, the last moments of my single years. My father would walk me into Husband's arms. Perfect.

4. Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours (Stevie Wonder) - Also in our wedding, Husband and our bridal party danced their way down the aisle to this favorite of ours. It will be with us forever.

5. Home (Phillip Phillips) - Last year, I had the pleasure of working on part of the end of the year CMS video. Dear friend, Shayna, introduced me to this song and it was over. Pictures of all of the families that we had come to know, pictures of some of us pregnant followed by pictures of us in the delivery room,  pictures of our kids playing together at the park, at the beach, on long weekends, after school, pictures of our dogs running in the fields. The simple strings of the guitar, the beautiful words of this song:

Hold on to me as we go, as we roll down this unfamiliar road. And although this wave is stringing us along, just know you're not alone, cause I'm gonna make this place your home. 

Settle down, it'll all be clear. Don't pay no mind to the demons they fill you with fear. The trouble it might drag you down. If you get lost, you can always be found. Just know you're not alone, cause I'm gonna make this place your home.

Maybe it's the thoughts of Rafa that I conjure up in my head or the idea of our soon-to-be-here baby boy, or the images of my little family, but this song make me a bumbling, sappy mess. It's the song that is our Family.

6. Bleecker Street (Simon & Garfunkel) - Years ago I heard this song. It might have been my love for living on Bleecker Street (260 Bleecker Street to be exact, The Atrium) combined with the very artist/writer feeling I get from this song but I swallowed this song fully at our first meeting. It is always my "Go To" inspiration song when I'm stuck in writer's block.

7. I Will (The Beatles) - My sister was the first person to introduce me to this Beatles' song. She was in a deep Beatles phase and had a book that decoded the meaning of many of their songs. She played this for me and I had decided then, in middle school, that this would be the song I sang as a lullaby to by future babies. I imagined my unborn babies in my arms as I rocked us in a rocking chair singing or humming this song. It's nice when dreams come true.

8. Here Comes the Night (Van Morrison) - Click here for song

9. Everything (Michael Buble) - when Husband and I were just boyfriend and I this song had just come out and Michael Buble was not as big a name as he is now. I heard it one morning getting ready for school and played it over and over and over and over again. We worked together in the same classroom, which is how we met, and that morning, I headed over to his apartment before work from pure excitement over this song. We were already in love and this song exemplified it for us. For reasons unmentioned, it did not become our wedding song but it will forever be "our" song.

10. Little Red Corvette (Prince) - Growing up in the same house, my sister and I listened to the same music - Dad's Music. When we got older we would take road trips to Miami to visit my grandparents and still listen to the same music - Dad's Music. On one of these trips Paul Young's "Everytime You Go Away" came on the radio. My sister started singing along with the chorus, "Everytime you go away, you take a piece of MEAT with you..." Wait. What?! "What are you singing," I asked her. She sang it again. "Sister," I asked, "What in the world would make you think that someone would take a piece of MEAT with them.

This would have been a surprise to me if we hadn't already made up the wrong lyrics to Prince's "Little Red Corvette." We were girls. There was two of us. Of course we thought the song was called, "Little Red Barette." More than anything this song reminds me of my childhood with my sister.

11. Glory Days (Bruce Springsteen) - this song could single handedly define my college years for me. I played it on the jukebox every night I spent at Ryan's Bar on Gold Street. Though the bar is no longer there, Glory Days spot on the jukebox - 6910 - will forever live on.

12. Dancing on the Ceiling (Lionel Richie) - Music in my life is pretty synonymous with my dad. One of the best memories was of this 1986 hit. Still young enough to reap the benefits of being picked up by my dad, he used to play this song, lift me upside down over his head and I, folks, would yes, DANCE ON THE CEILING!

13. Eye of the Tiger (Survivor) - the quintessential ass kicker song, this song came creeping back into my life as a Cuppercake, Cuppercake # 8 to be exact - it's a Willow Lake Day Camp thing. When I was teaching at my old school the students had to label every paper to me the same way. Name, date, subject, assignment, and quote. The quote was "Eye of the Tiger." I would give these students the "Eye of the Tiger" as my way of dismissing them. Each individual student would have to wait for me to give them "The Eye" as a sign of me knowing they were ready before standing p pushing in their chair and getting on line. At our wedding, Husband and I asked our friend who is aprt of a band called Lightning Jar, to play a rendition of Eye of the Tiger as we were announced as Husband and Wife for the first time. Need I say more as to why this is part of the Soundtrack of my Life.

14. You Were Born (Cloud Cult) - If you are a mom and haven't heard this song yet, click here. you will understand.

What songs would make up your soundtrack?

I'd love to read a message or comment with at least one song that would HAVE to be on the soundtrack of your life!

Just Us Girls Weekend

One of the beauties of living on a tropical island (besides the Caribbean Ocean, the sweet, fresh fruit, the swaying palm trees, the laid back attitudes, the peaceful breeze, the manageable lifestyle with the nannies and maids, etc., etc., etc) is that weekend trips aren't just doable, they're almost mandatory!

I will stop here and say that since Husband and I got here, we have taken some long weekend trips but not all since we got here with belly 7 months swollen and we are family living on a one parent income so we don't have as much in the extra finance department as others (insert another beauty of tropical island living: that we could still even afford to live off of a one parent income, let alone go away on occasion.) With that being said, this weekend is a long weekend here in Santo Domingo and while normally we spend it as a family, this weekend will be a little different.

Our great friend Shayna, at the beginning of the year, took the reigns and started organizing a Girls' Yoga Retreat Weekend. She did all of the legwork: the searching, the calculations, the booking, the details, the instructors, and so forth. For months we have been paying installments to her so as not to get behind and now, after 4 months, it's finally here. We leave tomorrow - 17 of us girls - for a long weekend of yoga, meditation, and each other.

Let me say that again - 17 of us girls are going away together - no kids, no families, no responsibilities but being good to ourselves, our bodies, and our minds. Do you know how rare that is? Dare I say that this will be the first time some of these ladies will ever be away from their kids!

Being 7 months swollen - again - I don't know how much I will be able to downward dog and triangle pose but what I am searching the most for is quiet. A time and place to clear my head and relax - truly relax - before our newest addition, our beautiful baby boy, fills our life with another set of pitter pattering feet. A time to read, a time to think and be, a time for a hot cup of uninterrupted coffee with good friends and amazing, inspiring women.

We are staying at Villa Serena located in Las Galeras, a location that National Geographic voted one of the most beautiful beaches in the world - not bragging or gloating or anything. To understand my complete ecstatic-ness of this weekend, please click the Villa Serena link to get an idea of where we are staying this weekend... just us girls!

Shayna - you will SOOO be missed this weekend. ♥2♥

Here are some pictures of our first trip to Villa Serena

Rafa and Papi at the pool having a blast!

More Rafa fun times at the pool

The Hotel

Simple view from our room