Ramon the Sad Fish

Ramon the Sad Fish

Ramon was a fish in the Atlantic Ocean. He was a very sad fish, he always had a frown on his face, most of all he was lonely. Above all that lonliness he was afraid. He wished he could be a BIG and important fish like Juan the Monk fish. He wished he could have beautiful colors like Raul the Scorpion fish. But Ramon was just Ramon, he didn't want to better himself, he didn't want to go to fish school with the Sardines. He thought change was too hard and too scary. He was just Ramon the lonely fish. One day he set out into the deep ocean to prove he was important. He swam and he swam. He passed Malia the Tiger Shark, she was swimming happily enjoying the sunbeams soar through the water. When Ramon slowly lurched by she said cheerfully, "Hi Ramon! What are you doing today?" Ramon was surprised that such a big lovely Tiger Shark would notice him, let alone know his name. "Hi, Ramon managed to squeek out." Malia asked if Ramon wanted to play crack the whip. He was so pleased that someone wanted to spend time with him! Ramon! The sad, scared fish. Malia and Ramon played every day, they had so much fun together that they didn't even realize how much time had passed. They played crack the whip EVERY DAY at 5pm and Ramon started to have a little glint of joy in his eye, and he laughed a lot. One day, Malia the Tiger Shark told Ramon that he was a special fish, but Ramon didn't believe her. He only remembered that he was a sad, lonely and scared fish. He told himself he wasn't scared OR lonely. He told her she wasn't right, that her stripes were too big and her teeth were too shiny, she laughed too loud at the movies, and they couldn't play crack the whip anymore. Ramon thought he had all the answers, and for a second Malia thought he did too. Malia knew what she knew and that was that Ramon was so much happier with her around. He sluggishly swam away from Malia sure that he was right. He was so sad and lonely. Just then a net came and scooped up Ramon, he was caught by fisherman! Ramon was fried up for dinner for Tamada and Dior, and he stayed a sad and lonely fish forever.

Moral: If you have a tiger by the tail, you shouldn't ever let go.

4AM

I woke up this morning at 4AM.

I woke up to my head and my heart debating. 

It was a solid debate.

Both sides had valid arguments.

Neither could come to a truce. 

No decision could be made and I couldn't sleep.

An hour past in bed with these thoughts racing back and forth, and back and forth. 

So I did all there was to do. 

I ran. I have been scared to run. Mostly because my leg hurts and I have been babying my leg, but today marks two weeks since surgery its time to move. I guess I move when I want to. This picture is sunset in Spain, I took one this morning but I was in a running tank top and I am trying to post pictures that are modest. Running has this cathartic effect on me. It pulls out the scared parts of me and brings them to the surface so I can face them head on and look at them objectively. I popped my headphones in and The Killers song Be Still nestled its way into my ears and thoughts:

Be still
And go on to bed
Nobody knows what lies ahead
And life is short
To say the least
We're in the belly of the beast

Be still
Wild and young
Long may your innocence reign
Like shells on the shore
And may your limits be unknown
And may your efforts be your own
If you ever feel you can't take it anymore

Don't break character
You've got a lot of heart
Is this real or just a dream?
Rise up like the sun
Labor till the work is done

So as I look at two diverging roads, I am rooted to the spot I am in. One road is easy things are as they are nothing changes. The other road. The unknown road, the one where vulnerability lies and fear peeks over. The one where I have to face the girl inside of me that has parts still broken and bruised. The parts of me that I am babying and keeping safe because I am pretty sure this heart can't take another blow. So the debate is silenced for now and I am still. I will move when I want to. 

Back to School Panic...A Teacher's Perspective

Panic at the Disco.

As a parent back to school means several things for me. First the chorus to the Christmas song, It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year plays in my head. I am ready for the schedule that school brings. Second, a feeling of sadness and longing for long summer days playing with my kids. Lastly, the thought...UGH....All the stuff I have to buy for school, new clothes, new tennis shoes, socks, underwear, for Ellie new hair bows that match her outfits, haircuts, and not to mention the $60 each on school supplies, lunch boxes and new backpacks. As a parent back to school can be a harried undertaking especially if you have more than one child. Imagine having to do this for four or five children? I only have two! But if you are a Teacher.............................getting your kids ready for back to school is a cakewalk compared to getting YOU back to school. 

Trust ME. 

Outline of my summer:

• three lazy/busy weeks with my children (glorious I tell you)
• two delicious weeks in Spain (glorious, again)
• Flight home from Spain I was notified when I landed in Miami that this vein I have been trying to remove is now 100% approved for surgery. YIPEE. AND. They have an opening Tuesday, would I like it. YES! (Except, I am supposed to report back to work Tuesday for training.) Talk to WONDERFUL BOSS, I am not kidding I have the most LOVELY BOSS on the planet at ALA his name is Mr. Brown. He says, take care of yourself and some other really nice things about how important I am. Did I tell you I love working at my school? I do. 
• Surgery Tuesday..pretty much loopy until Monday but I attend as much training as I can handle that next week, which by the way was exhausting and painful.
• PANIC. PANNNNNNIC. Hits Monday as the full realization that I have MEET THE TEACHER NIGHT THURSDAY EVENING.
• PLUS. Training all week. Not to mention training 8-4 on THURSDAY! THE day of MEET THE TEACHER. Literally, panic attack #1 hits. 
• Three days of spotty training mixed with getting the classroom ready, Wednesday night at school until MIDNIGHT with the Wonderful Mr. Rogers who I am probably indebted to for the rest of my life for all of his help this week.
• Thursday Training, trainer lets us out at three. I have stabbing pains in my leg (remember I just had surgery and still wearing the stupid leg corset) Leg looks like this under the corset:
  
• Thursday Night was THE BEST. I have the cutest class in the world! That is the best part all this other stuff is SO stressful but getting to know the kids is what matters the most to me. I already love each and every one of them. 
• Friday ALL day in the classroom AND I was surprised with a brand new computer! So that made me happy. 

It is Saturday and the verdict is: I am not feeling anywhere close to ready. I have a messy house to clean, clothes to iron and get ready, Laundry, lessons to plan, my room is STILL not finished, copies to make and ALL I want to do is lay by the pool for a couple of hours. Is that too much to ask? I think seven weeks of summer with two in training and working in our classrooms isn't enough time. I just need ONE MORE WEEK. JUST ONE! I have been working so much I am exhausted. I have probably spent around $500 getting supplies for my room, and I have so much more to do. I feel unbalanced and I know I have to be careful and start doing some self care or I will get sick. My workouts start Monday and I am stressed about that because I would like to WORK more but it is imperative to the knots in my shoulders that I get some relief or the headaches will start. I need to make sure I am eating healthier. I have been eating out a lot REFRENCE filet-o-fish sandwiches. I was talking about this with Unasian Daddy Long Legs at dinner last night, I said I need to be eating more vegetables but they sound gross to me. I don't have any desire to eat a salad. To which she replied,"That's because there isn't any iron in salad." Which again, made TOTAL sense. Plus, I miss my kids so much. I am lonely for them. I feel like if I work myself to the bone again today I might die a death of exhaustion and fatigue. SO, to you and to myself I say my MANTRA: MY BEST IS GOOD ENOUGH. 

Today I will clean for one hour, and get done what I can starting with the grossest parts first, I will go to the pool and lay in the sun for one hour and relax because it is Saturday. I will go to my classroom and tidy up, make sure I have the copies I need for Monday and not spend more than 90 minutes there. I will make the book I have been wanting to make for my class. I might just have to live with the fact that every little detail I wanted to be ready, might not be. BUT, it will be in a few weeks time.The truth is, I KNOW what I am doing. I have been a teacher for over a decade, and it will all work out because it always does. I just have to BREATHE and be human, set some boundaries so I can be healthy then go and do the best I can do which is USUALLY pretty AWESOME. 

I must bid you Adieu, I have work to do....

XOXO-The Sunny D

Addict

Something weird has been happening to me the last week and a half.

I have been craving FILET-O-FISH sandwiches. In fact I have had three in the last nine days.

True story.

I was puzzled by this new development, I mean what is a filet o fish sandwich anyway? It's basically a giant fish stick with a slab of cheese, slathered in tartar sauce. Gross yet....delicious. It all began after my surgery and the craving has just never stopped. I tried to figure this oddity out the other day with Unasian Daddy Long Legs because she's really smart and generally has a good answer for everything. She said I must be low in iron. I decided that must be it too. Except, there may be a secret reason.

It's that time again. McDonald's Monopoly.

It draws me in every time. All I ever wanted in life was to win something from the McDonald's Monopoly game other than: Any breakfast sandwich excluding the Egg McMuffin or a Regular McFlurry or Yogurt Parfait. Why do they exclude the Egg McMuffin? That is just wrong. That is the sandwich I like the best, besides the filet-o-fish.
I really don't think it is too much to ask to be the million dollar winner. Right? I would share the million dollars. Heck, I'll take the $50 dollar prize, or the free Delta trip. I am not picky. I just have something to say to all those McDonald's workers out there please pick the containers with the game pieces I need, we all should be cooperating here. I don't need any more duplicates of BO Railroad or North Carolina Ave. Let's go for some variety.

I was starting to feel a little bit bad about my filet-o-fish addiction, and McDonald's Monopoly addiction until I came across Then and Now Meth addict pictures someone put on Facebook. You know, I didn't feel so bad about fish sandwiches anymore.


XOXO- The Sunny D

I Love You, Efan.......

Oh. My. Goodness. I love this little girl so much, for the last few days she has been entertaining us with a British Accent. She has a Spanish accent too. (I think they are the same accent) She keeps repeating the line from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, "Daddy, I want a pony. I want one now!"


 For a long time whenever a date would come to pick me up she would say,

"Oh, Hi Efan." (She has a little problem pronouncing"th")

The date would always ask me as we left my house, Huh??Who's Ethan? Always. I would just smile a half smile and shrug my shoulders like I was saying, "None of your business who Efan is." The truth of the matter is I don't know ANY ETHAN'S! Not ONE. I have never dated and EFAN (Ethan) OR had a friend name Ethan. I have dated a handful of David's (stay away from the David's), and men who have other names but to Ellie, THEY WERE ALL EFAN'S. Man, that cracked me up! I could not WAIT for the moment a date would come in and Ellie would say, Hi Efan. I loved that moment of confused perplexity on the dates faces. I thought it was JUST the BEST thing and broke my anxiety enough to actually get out the door with the date. She doesn't say that anymore and pretty much gets everyone's names right, but sometimes I wish she would just call them ALL EFAN. 



So. This is me when I started work. I have since put on 7 pounds. SEVEN. Two of those could be female hormone related and disappear by next week. BUT THE OTHER FIVE. I know. I know. YOU are probably thinking, what is 5 pounds. Well, it's the difference between a size 8 and a size 10 that's what. The fine line between me feeling good and feeling chub a dubs, between having a food tube roll over your waist band and NO FOOD TUBE. Phoenix Half Marathon...here I come.

Why do girls take pictures of themselves in the mirror? Or making faces in their phone? I couldn't tell you, I do it all the time. Apparently, I also take lots of pictures of my feet. I guess this runs in the family because this was a picture my Mom took on Sunday. We all decided my second long toe could TOTALLY take the place of my pinky finger, if I ever needed to replace my pinky finger. (My foot is bottom left.) Seriously, that is a TALL toe.

Cool Cucumber, I sure missed this guy! He came over Saturday night for a visit, every girl needs a calm BFF like him. He is just the best. Any girl that snatches him up will be a lucky one, I tell you. He is such a kind, loving, good guy. I am so lucky to have him as my friend. AND NO we are NOT DATING, NEVER HAVE, NEVER WILL. Just the best of friends.


This was yesterday. Picture Day. I officially started back to work last week. I have been working in my classroom this week. WHAT A JOB. Plus, it is HOT. I have to wear this stupid, uncomfortable compression sock that squishes my thigh. Ellie told me I had a chubby thigh the other day. I have to agree with her. It sure looks like it with the sock squishing it. It feels like my leg is wearing a medieval corset. I was able to take the tape that protected the incisions off today. It looks pretty good, if you look past the bruises and the fact that it looks like someone attacked my whole leg with a bat. One more week. ONE MORE WEEK and I will be leg corset FREE. The truth is, how lucky am I to have this awful vein removed at 100% coverage? I am so grateful. I have lots of blessings. I have had help in my classroom all week so far. I have more help coming tomorrow. I don't know what I ever did to deserve such wonderful, loving and helpful friends. I have so much work to do right now. I have so much, that I couldn't clear my mind to focus on it so I decided to blog. I worked all day, ate dinner, went out to Lakeshore Learning and just arrived home at about 9. I can't believe Summer is over. It went by WAY too fast, but I love my job and am happy to be back on a normal routine with my babies. I hope this is is a great school year!


Random Thoughts, Cheers Efan!
XOXO-The Sunny D

Lost and Alone in Madrid, Spain

 The Madrid Spain Temple

I have to tell the pre-story or PREFACE of this story before I can get into the actual facts of getting lost in Spain. Here it goes.

If you are my friend on Facebook you were able to see a little video clip I put on there of me in Plaza de America's being totally swarmed, and attacked by pigeons. It pretty much consisted of me squealing and pigeons flying into my face and me feeling totally disoriented.

In fact here are a few pictures...nothing like getting up close and personal with a gazillion white doves and pigeons.

I guess it is too hot for visitors to come and feed the pigeons in the summer. You can imagine the birds glee when this young, beautiful, ignorant, American girl came for the pigeon feeding experience. I had visions of me singing to the birds like Snow White and them gracefully landing on my hand (ONE AT A TIME) and happily chirping and taking a little seed as a snack from my palm. Alas, life isn't ever what we think its going to be is it? It was more like attack of the pigeons..feeding frenzy massacre. SO after I posted this video my friend Tara sent me a message through Facebook basically telling me she was in SPAIN TOO! RIGHT THEN! Can you imagine my happiness and surprise! This isn't just any old girl, this is TARA. Who I grew up with, and ran my marathon with in OCTOBER! After talking we learned that we were going to be in Madrid at the SAME TIME and decided to spend a few days together. The first thing I wanted to do was go to the Madrid Temple. It is a place of worship for people in my church. To me the temple is a place that is beautiful, quiet, peaceful, and where I feel right at home no matter where I am in the world. So I longed to be there.

I talked to Spanish Sassafras about this new development and we made a plan for me to take the first train out of the station Wednesday morning and she would fly into Madrid that evening and meet me. I then received a stirring lecture about all of the scary things I could encounter on my journey and Tara needed to meet me at the station so we could venture through the city together, since I would be hefting a whole bunch of luggage. I heartily agreed.

Well. Remember how I said life doesn't work out the way you think it will? Let's just say that is the theme of this post.

The morning of my train ride SS (Spanish Sassafras) received a text from Tara stating that they couldn't meet me at the station and gave step by step instructions on how to take the Metro from the train station to get to the street the temple was on.

SS was NOT happy. In fact she was SO worried that I would get mugged, or hurt, or lost, or victimized in Madrid..when SS is riled up her speech becomes very fast English with a Spanish accent..kind of like listening to a video on the computer at triple time...with lots of hand movements.She said, "LOOK at YOU! YOU SCREAM TOURIST! I am a woman all alone, mug me please!"

 Tara was worried we wouldn't make it on time to the temple because of the Spanish Siesta, and just figured it would be best for us to meet there. Which I of course understood, and I also overestimated my ability to get around a country alone in which I did not speak the language. I assured SS that I would be fine, I had taken MANY a Metro in my life time and even traveled all over New York all by myself.

To which she retorted, "BUT you were in the USA and you SPEAK THE LANGUAGE and you weren't carrying a whole bunch of luggage's!!!" SS's Mom started to chime in, two Spanish women worried for my welfare. It deepened my love for these two women that they were so concerned for me but I felt like I would be fine. However, after seeing them so worried in my mind I started to worry too. I then told SS not to worry because I traveled all over London on the Underground and Londoners basically speak a whole different language AND I had navigated through Paris for 8 days without a hitch. She reminded me that I was married at the time and not alone and NOT CARRYING LUGGAGE'S! She was right, my attempt to lessen her worry failed.

She insisted that I call Tara at 4:30 in the morning, I tried but Tara didn't answer. I had not one doubt in my mind that she had been painting the town Spanish red and gold the night before and had probably just laid her pretty little head down to sleep.

We drove to the train station and SS dropped me off. She took my BIGGEST BAG, a giant green monster of a thing so I could have one free hand to fight off molesters. Ok. I am only kidding about the molester part. She decided it would be much easier for me to get around without it and she would just check it on the plane that night. I followed the crowd, THAT is my only GREAT TIP. If you are in an AIRPORT, or TRAIN station or METRO station in a place where you don't speak the language...follow the crowd. They will usually lead you to the signs that will tell you where to go. Like Metro-----> with an arrow pointing the way. 

I arrived just barely in time to catch my train. I hopped on and was flooded with anxiety. I knew that was not good, I don't always function my best when I am anxious. I started to worry that I was on the wrong train. Had I gotten on the wrong train? ALL of the instructions from the monitors were in Spanish. The conductor came around, I knew if I was on the wrong train, he would certainly let me know. He looked at my ticket, punched it and went on his way. I could relax for the next hour until I had to switch trains in Sevilla. I plugged in my earphones an listened to a book on my iphone. 

We arrived in Sevilla, I got off the train and followed the crowd. (smart trick) I found my train went through the security checks, and found my seat. Actually, someone was sitting in my seat. So I sat in another seat, but then the guy came to sit in the seat I was in and I had to actually talk to the guy in my seat. He was with the girl that sat next to him and would I mind switching. Ok, I said and moved up to his seat. I was internally annoyed, mostly out of fatigue and hunger. Then I got to see my seat mates. 

I know what you are thinking.
Lucky girl.
This guy in the blue shirt slouched down in his seat took up ALL of my leg room. Which is a problem because I could have taken up all of HIS leg room, and...AND he kept stepping on my feet. I finally gave up flopped over sideways in my seat, on top of my backpack and crashed for an hour or so until I awoke to stabbing pains in my left leg. The bad one, with the veins that had not been removed at this point. My whole leg was asleep from ankle to hip. Super great. And this is when I decided that he got to appear on my blog. I was hungry and grumpy at this point and I had to use the bathroom but I didn't want to wait in line so I waited and ate some trail mix. OH, another tip...I always, ALWAYS pack a gallon Ziploc full of high protein/fiber snacks for moments JUST like this one where you are caught starving.

Snacks I like to pack:

• dried fruit ( I like apricots)
• apples
• trail mix
• beef jerky
• protein bars..my favorite are the Cliff 20g of protein bars peanut butter chocolate. It tastes like a candy bar AND makes you feel super full.
• a few hard candies
• Sour Patch watermelon's
• I brought dark chocolate covered acai berries...so delicious
• Nutri-grain bars when I can't stomach a protein bar but need SOMETHING.
• a hand full of single serving crystal light mixes for water bottles..the ones with the caffeine.

I arrived at the strain station in Madrid and happily exited the train. I had taken pictures of the directions Tara had given me and a picture of the Madrid Temple with the physical address. 

 Here they are. Oh and I failed to mention the day before I managed to almost cook myself on the beach. I was well done. So that added to me being a little, grumpy and hot and uncomfortable.

I bet a sunburn like this didn't scream...TOURIST.  I had my luggage in hand, and FOLLOWED THE CROWD.  Oh look, the font and my skin match.
Soon enough I spotted the sign that pointed the way to the metro. The tricky thing about train stations is generally there are several levels. So I had to take some stairs up to get to the metro line. Once I arrived at the Metro line it was blocked of with yellow caution tape and SEVERAL police men.

It was at this moment that I felt my first real SURGE of PANIC. I found the policeman that spoke English. Which I did not understand except for the Metro is closed, which I had already deduced from the yellow caution tape. He pointed me back in the direction of the trains and told me I had to take a train up to the next Metro station.

I thanked him and turned. There was a little cafe behind me, it was about 10:45 and I had been up since four. I had eaten the equivalent of a handful of trail mix at this point so I decided to grab some food. I picked a pastry that looked WAY better than it tasted, a bottle of water and a Coca Light for good measure. I ate two bites of the pastry and chucked it. I started to walk back down to the train station and was overcome with an intense feeling that I was not safe. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. It could have been all the warnings I had received from SS and her Mom. I am not sure, I just know how I felt. I also know that when I feel this way there is only one thing to do.

I prayed. 

As I walked toward the train escalators I said a silent, and anxious prayer for help. I said, "Heavenly Father, I am lost. I have no cell phone service to call anyone. I can't even access the internet to find my way to the temple. The way I was supposed to go is shut down and I don't have a plan B. I need you to direct me where to go AND I do not feel safe. Please send my Ministering Angels to surround me in a circle of protection." *Ministering Angels AKA Guardian Angels. 

What happened next built my testimony of my Heavenly Father's love for me, that he is ALWAYS aware of me and that he WILL help me. 

I got on the escalator going down to the train station. I felt my Grandpa close by. I knew he was there, I know he is one of my Angels. I had a birds eye view of the station and realized at this point what a huge mass of confusion it was. There were hundreds of people swarming around like bee's in a hive trying to find alternate routes, with the metro shut down. There were long lines at every kiosk and at the station desk. There were stacks of luggage everywhere the whole place was abuzz. I stepped off of the escalator into the swarming crowd and as I moved through it I noticed immediately that a LARGE circle where I had MORE than ENOUGH personal space began to separate ME from the crowd. It was like I was Moses parting the sea, and everywhere I walked a large circle stood between me and all of Madrid. I knew I was being protected, I couldn't see the protectors but I could see the effect they had on the crowd around me and I thanked Heavenly Father for his help and asked, "Where should I go?" I felt to go to the train line as I had done this in Paris and it had worked for me there, I knew that the people behind the glass counter usually spoke pretty good English. This was a long line, but I was not crowded by the people and the unseen circumference of safety stayed in tact. I arrived at the counter, and  tried to explain to the lady my situation. She did not speak English. I showed her the address, she was no help. A man in line behind me began to hiss in some weird expression of annoyance at my being in line. I thanked the woman and left the line. I stood for a moment, still a circle around me of space separating me from the crowd. I felt safe. My head was clear and the anxiety had left. I had this continuing prayer going on, and I said, OK. That didn't work, please direct me where to go next. I looked to my right and there was a sign in purple that said something in Spanish and underneath it it said in small letters. Customer Service. I heard, Go There. So I did. 

There was not a line. I walked right up to a lady's desk she had a calm and kind disposition. She spoke SOME English. I gave her my final destination the picture of the Temple Address. She found the train I needed, and the Metro line I would have to take from there that included several line changes. I was so relieved, because I knew what to do. I then realized that I had to go to the bathroom..PRONTO. I asked her Donde esta el Bano? ( BOY, I am SURE glad I took three years of SPANISH in high school because it has sure served me well) She directed me which way to go and I headed that way. I found the bathroom and locked myself in the stall. I thanked Heavenly Father for his help and guidance. I then decided I would change into a more suitable dress as the one I had been traveling in was not what I wanted to wear when going to the temple. I was thinking about my next steps to take in my travel through the city. I looked at my clock and realized that I had been in the station for over an hour. It was 11:15 and I was supposed to be at the temple for the 12:00 session. I was running out of time and didn't know if the train ride and all of the line changes would get me there in time. I then remembered Loli ( SS's Madre) say, "If all else fails take a taxi." Then SS saying YEAH but a taxi will cost you 30-50 Euro's which is $45-$60 US dollars. There are things I don't mind spending money on like say..SHOES and things I am so CHEAP I don't want to spend money on like...TAXI RIDES. Especially, if I can take a metro which is TEN Euros for 10 RIDES!!! I weighed my options. I decided I should probably take the taxi, since I was alone. I came out of the stall, washed my hands, swiped on some lipstick and adjusted my dress. I walked out of the bathroom and right above me was a LARGE GREEN ARROW with a TAXI on it. I was more and more grateful at almost every turn in this train station. I followed the sign and took a picture here...

I easily found the door to the taxi line and hopped in one.

Here is my taxi. The taxi driver had a app on his phone that translates, I did too but I didn't have WiFi for it to work. I showed him the temple address and he put it in his GPS. I asked him Cuanto..meaning How much will this ride cost? He didn't understand me and handed me his phone. He said it would take 20 minutes to get to the temple. I was adding this in my head and I thought...GREAT this is going to cost me an arm and a leg. I typed in, How much? He typed in 18 Euros. I wanted to click my heels. I said, OK thank you. We were at the temple within minutes. I happily paid the driver and hopped out of the cab. He handed me my luggage and I said, I am a Mormon and this is our temple isn't it beautiful. He said, Si.

I stepped foot onto the temple grounds and gratitude spilled out of my heart. I literally had the feeling that I had been LOST and now I was FOUND. I cried and I was so happy. I walked into the temple and was Welcomed with open arms, I was directed to the Temple Hostel to use the free WiFi. I contacted Tara and SS to let them know I was at the temple and safe. Once inside I ran into a flurry of Sister Missionaries who heard that a Gringa from Gilbert was at the temple. I happily visited with these wonderful women who were dedicating 18 months of their life to the Missionary Work. They each had a connection in Gilbert, none of which I knew. I had a homecoming in the dressing room of the Madrid Temple. I had arrived. I was right at Home.

I know that I am loved. I am loved by my Father in Heaven, by my guardian angles, by my friends and my family. I know that Heavenly Father will help me ANY time ANY where I need it. I am grateful for this experience, and the depth of this knowledge it gave me. I am one lucky girl.

Blessings.
XOXO- The Sunny D

Under Pressure

Here's to hoping there is light at the end of the tunnel.

The Pressure. 

Life is full of it. How do you manage the pressure? Well, I am not always sure. 

I have been thinking about pressure a lot lately. 

I am wearing a compression hose up to my thigh, it puts pressure on my leg and holds my veins in, it keeps it from swelling and gives it support. So pressure isn't always bad. 

Pressure Cookers are good, you can cook a delicious meal in under 30 minutes in one of those. Yum, that would have been handy tonight. My kids and I had popcorn at the movies for dinner, and I felt the pressure of not feeding them something a little more substantial right beforehand. They had a big lunch. Homemade Lunch I might add, and no body complained so I let it go. 

I have Meet the Teacher night this coming Thursday. I had surgery on my leg Tuesday, so I am pretty much feeling the pressure to have everything perfect before my student's meet the teacher...except I am still tired from surgery and my leg HURTS. How am I going to pull this one off? I don't know yet. PRESSURE. 

I had a pressure release today actually, a dear friend of mine offered to help me with my classroom. You know I am typically a, "I got this covered" kind of perfectionist girl. The fact that he offered was a huge pressure release. Relief. A helper. I think this is a key to relieving the pressure, having someone to work through it with. 

The new Common Core Standards in teaching..more pressure, but I am confident in teaching and so I have that one covered.

What about the pressure of kissing a boy? I can't even look boys in the eyes most of the time without feeling the pressure of insecurity. That's a desirable trait. Feeling insecure. You sort of have to look at someone's face in order to kiss them. PRESSURE. 

At the beach in Spain there was NO PRESSURE to have a perfect body, natural bodies were PERFECT. Even mine.

 It was hard to not compare the beach in Spain to my last beach experience at the Huntington Beach Singles Conference. There were a lot of peacocks, men and women prancing around in the sand. They may as well had a tattoo across their chest that said...look at me... They were perfect and not natural, not natural at all in fact and probably more insecure than me because what do I have to prove? Except, I felt the pressure of perfection. That little voice that said, a perfect body is the only way you are going to have the life you want. A perfect stomach, in a perfect bikini, with a perfect tan, and then some. Oh, and what about the pressure of aging? Wrinkles. You are not perfect. 

Then I read this: An excerpt from the book I read at the beach called, Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter.

The first impression one gets of Michael Deane is of a man constructed of wax, or perhaps prematurely embalmed. After all these years, it may be impossible to trace the sequence of facials, spa treatments, mud baths, cosmetic procedures, lifts and staples, collagen implants, out patient touch-ups, tannings, Botox injections, cyst and growth removals, and stem cell injections that have caused a seventy-two-year-old man to have the face of a nine-year-old Filipino girl. 

I feel pressure to be young, look pretty and thin but I want to look like me and feel like me. Aging is natural, and the body wasn't ever meant to be perfect. We are not meant to be perfect. I prefer the Spain attitude, just be happy in your skin. Enjoy the beach, love your kids and play. That is a happier way to live. I heartily laughed at this excerpt because who wants to be 72 and look like a 9 year old Filipino girl? 

My friend wants me to go to a Fireside with him Sunday. I said, NO WAY. I have a limp from surgery!  Again, there is that perfection thing. Plus, the pressure of talking to everyone and being happy and friendly. I know, sad that I feel this way but sometimes I just want to be friendly and talk to the people I know and actually LIKE. Less pressure. BUT then there is the PRESSURE...FAITH WITHOUT WORKS IS DEAD and if you really, actually would like to get remarried someday..hopefully sooner than later that means one thing. You have to get out there and rub shoulders with people. So you can go on dates, which lead to having to look men in the eyes. Which leads to...kissing. Is there a way to go about this without the pressure? 

In Spain I bought a baby dress. Why? I don't know it made me sad but I couldn't help it, it was so cute. There is some more pressure. My heart is aching for a baby. ACHING. I think that is probably why I bought the dress. YOU should never admit that you want babies especially if you are 35 going to be 36 in about a month. OH and single OH and can't look men in the eyes. There is a twinge of sadness in this pressure for me and a sliver of hope too. Pressure I put on myself. 

 Last Sunday I went to church and there was this beautiful family. Three children, one of which was just a new, little, precious baby. There was a wedge in my throat, and I was sad. I almost, ALMOST cried. Then I remembered all the turmoil I went through to get Aydan here, and how just one day it happened. I found out I was pregnant and then I remembered that a couple years later Ellie arrived without a hitch! I realized that I don't know what the future holds. I mean I could get married this year. I just don't know it. Maybe it is around the corner, and maybe it is not. But in that moment I counted my blessings because I thought maybe the Mom in that family looks at my life and thinks it is pretty great. I was tan, had hardly any make-up on, I was at church without anyone hanging on me or needing my help. I mean I had just been on vacation for almost two weeks. I have two children who I love more than I could even express to you in words. There are twinges of sadness here and there but I am really happy. I mean truly, sunshiny, big smile on my face, giggling happy. 

Now. If I can just get rid of some of this pressure! 

XOXO The Sunny D 

Spain is........

Sunflowers as far as the eye can see......

Riding Bikes to the beach, and grocery store, and mercantile to buy stamps...........

Spain is beautiful beaches and sunsets at 10:30

Spain is good friends, children and first taste of sardines..........

Spain is Cathedrals

Spain is palaces......and it is hot. 

Spain is me living a life without fear

and of course, new shoes........

Spain is old and new all in one

Spain is dancing in the square.........

it is old doors

and lucky to meet old friends.................and ancient Roman Aqueducts

Spain is arches, my favorite...architecture......arches..sigh

street markets......and more Catholic churches

I wish I had a blanket so I could just lay down and look at the sky here. It is lovely little parks tucked here and there

One of the only octagon churches anywhere........this happens to be a Knights Of The Templar church..Spain is Rubenesque painting like views........

Spain is succulent pigs, which I did not try...because I thought it was sad

Spain is REAL poppies and medieval walls..........

It is Apostles and Christians

 Spain is fields of gold

and old forgotten sheds

and friends and gardens.............

Spain is white washed towns with a church in the middle...Andalusia

Spain is love and romance.............these statues stand for the three degrees of love. The first woman a young girl thinking of what love might be, the middle a woman middle aged revelling in love and the third woman in her old age wistfully thinking of the love she had.

Spain is lily pad's.......

Spain is tree lined streets with carriages...........

I can't wait to go back.