Category Archives: Videos
Seanna’s first trip to the Cherry Blossom’s in DC
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This was first trip to DC, first Cherry Blossoms, first picnic and first time eating fruit. Yup, a full day of firsts for her. As you can see, we pretty much pack the entire kitchen and bedroom when we take her somewhere. And by “we”, I mean Monica.
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The Cherry Blossoms Picnic Crew:
2009 Year in Review
What a great year! Worthy of being in VH1′s “Best Year Ever” episode. I got promoted at work, bathed in 9 different beaches, become closer with my family, closer with friends, and received the gift of creating life: my little lady, Seanna Sofia.
She’s so beautiful. So adorable. So gentle. Tender and sweet. Just like the flesh that made her and carried her in her womb. I love how she smiles in her sleep, how she opens her mouth wide and closes her eyes when she yawns, how she makes sounds like a kitten when she cries — But I’m getting ahead of myself.
So let me start with the first day, January 1, 2009. Man, what a party! What a crazy youth-spirited reckless night! What loss of control, what disregard for the norm of society. It was fun. To be careless one last time. To sing along songs, out loud; to dance like a high schooler, raising a glass of champagne to love and life, and bring in the new year one last time without second thoughts, toasting along friends and my beloved Monica. Aniceto and Jose, Primo Productions, you are to blame for such madness. And that was it. No more partying like a rockstar. We felt that it was not for us anymore.
As far as getting the new year started, Bianca, Monica and I went snowboarding and man it was about 75% torture and 25% fun. We ended up on the ground so many times that I felt I had bursted an instestine. We hit the ground so hard so many times that even though we had gotten the “All Day” pass until 10PM, by 5PM we couldn’t get up anymore. When we fell, it took us a good 5 minutes of just laying there, motionless, groaning, gathering strength to get back up. The problem was that when we went, even though it was cold, it wasn’t snowing. Instead of snow, there was ice on the slopes. It was basically trying to snowboard on frozen concrete. Looking back, I don’t think it was the determination to master the bunny slope that kept us there, it was plain masochism. This was just plain painful. I wish we could have made it to the regular “grown up” slope though, but we’ll shamefully admit that the Bunny Slope punished us so bad we got scared. After we left, Bianca looked like she had gotten in bar brawl, Monica looked like she had married a wifebeater, and I, well, I still looked good.
In February, we visited our good friends Yazmine and JP in Puerto Rico. We really enjoyed our stay with them and got to visit different parts of the island. I had many times seen the sun at sunset, but never actually sat down to contemplate it and enjoy it. When we visited Dorado, we did exactly that. And it was beautiful. It was an orange reddish circle with a soothing glow, slowly being swallowed by the dark sea and the endless dance of the waves. I wrote about this beautiful experience here. We also got to visit hidden coastlines and experience Puerto Rico underwater; we went Scuba diving in La Parguera, a diving spot where you can supposedly spot whale sharks during their migration. Unfortunately, we were a day late. The guides said they had seen a 40 foot whale shark the day before. What a disappointment 
Puerto Rico was a lot of fun and its waters hold a special place in our heart since that’s where Seanna’s nickname “Sirena” came from. I was going to write about our scuba diving experience but didn’t get to it because Monica surprised me with the news that she was with child. I won’t be able to finish the second half of our Puerto Rico experience, but below are some videos and pictures we took of our dive trip. Although it was nice and full of corals, we were disappointed that there were very little fish. Weird.
Video of Scuba diving. From getting into the water, diving to bottom, seeing the “wall of corals”, to getting back on boat:
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A baby’s worst day ever!
Note: This story is based on a true story. If you love babies, have a weak stomach, are easily depressed by terrible news, or are a person that can’t handle a stories of babies having the worst day ever, we suggest that you click away from this site now. That being said, it must be also noted following story is based on a true story as written by Seanna Sofia Downs – aka “Little Mama” (named after her mom, “Hot Mama”).
Back then the world seemed so small, like a small box. Or as big as daddy’s bedroom and the living room where I would just sit and watch tv with him. That day, that unfortunate day, the worst day of my life, daddy was watching TV without me as mommy started putting layers and layers of clothing on me to the point that I could hardly move. We were going to the Doctor. Daddy stayed behind because he had hurt his leg and couldn’t walk. Daddy kissed me goodbye and then I was taken to the car. Once at the doctor’s office I was stripped off my clothes and stayed in cold room until the executioner came by with some sharp, thin sticks called needles. She stood in front of me and without warning, as I was charming my mommy with my usual “goo-goo and gaa-gaas”, she impaled both my legs with something called vaccines. I cried like I have never cried before. I felt like those needles had penetrated the bone and the pain was like nothing I had experienced in my whole life. I cried and cried. No one could comfort me. No kisses or hugs could take the chill and pain in my bones that the needles had left. It didn’t matter how much mommy rocked me, how much she told me it was going to be OK, how much she caressed me, it wasn’t ok, I still felt the pain, and tears ran down the cheeks that Daddy loved so much. Why did he not come with me and save me from this torture? How I missed and needed my daddy!
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The US Capitol Christmas Tree!
I feel proud right now! Below is a live streaming video of the National Christmas Tree at the US Capitol. I’m glad that they haven’t stopped calling it what it is, a Christmas Tree, not a Holiday Tree. Sweet!
Our baby’s heartbeat
Mónica acarrea ese bebe, ese esplendor que va durmiendo, sonriendo, bailando en su vientre y que, incluso sin conocer el mundo, sabe quién soy.
Qué me lleva a pensar eso? Escucha su corazón, escucha esos saltos, esas patadas, ese vibrar que es como… como una bandera en las alturas de Neuschwanstein.
Monica carries in her that child, that splendor that goes on sleeping, smiling, dancing in her womb and that even without knowing the world, knows who I am.
What leads me to think this? Hear it’s heart, listen as it jumps, kicks, vibrates like… like a flag in the heights of Neuschwanstein.
* Friends, readers, we ask that you do not leave any comments on any other place but this blog. The reason is simple, when you leave comments on Facebook or Myspace, they will disappear one day when we decide that we have outgrown them and disable our accounts. When you leave comments on this blog however, your comments will remain for years and years to come. You will leave your mark and the comments will be a part of our history. We will always look back at this entry and see everything that has been written without worry that someone else can delete them since we own the content of this site. Feel free to leave a comment and share with us this joyous occasion. -Monica, Alex, our Love Child, and Romeo.
Valentine’s Day Getaway in Puerto Rico – Part I
For Valentine’s Day weekend, we went to the enchanted island once again. We had previously visited back in 2005 when Monica and I had just started going out. We now returned as a married couple. On our first trip we visited Old San Juan, El Yunque and the beautiful island of Culebra where we did some serious snorkeling. This time, we went to visit our good friends Yazmine and JP (Juan Pablo) and visit the west side of the island. We were very happy to see them both again. We hadn’t seen them since our wedding, 7 months back. Yazmine and I have been friends for many years and when she moved back we promised her that we would go visit her. It took a few years, but we finally made it and we were very excited! When we arrived, the first thing we did was to go see her at her workplace after JP picked up us from the airport. We wanted to know about everything that went on when she audition for American Idol and made it to Hollywood. After a brief catching up, we went to get some typical Puerto Rican food, Chuleta Can-Can (Fried Pork Chop) but I was disappointed I didn’t see Arroz con Gandules, a typical Puerto Rican cuisine, on the menu. The pork chop was a vicious meal, I was stuffed to the core. So after this serious meal, we went to the Yaz-JP Hotel and met the rest of the family, their four dogs. When Yazmine got home from work she got ready for us to go to Old San Juan and have dinner. This is when I realized that while JP has been in PR for years, I, a native of Nicaragua, living in the US, had to introduce him to one of PR’s best liquors: Passoa! Passoa is a passion fruit drink that is very tropical and an exotic taste. Women love it because it doesn’t really taste like alcohol, men love it because women get drunk without knowing and then get wild. So after a drink, we went to DragonFly a chic restaurant to get some sushi. After dinner we returned home and passed out.
- JP Yaz and Alex
The next day we woke up early and made the hour trip to Crash Boat beach. We drove out early in morning, about 7 or so, to Crash Boat, a beach west of San Juan. First we searched for a bakery to eat some good typical Puerto Rican breakfast but we couldn’t find any. We drove on the expressway but got back on the local roads because Monica wanted to pass out from hunger, but nothing. After an hour, we decided to stop by a McDonalds and get some boring American breakfast platter. There we asked for directions to get to Crash Boat. It turns out that giving directions in Puerto Rico is just like they give directions in my native Nicaragua. No one knows the actual road names, instead the use landmarks and estimates of distance to make a turn. For example, the lady at the McDonald’s gave us the following directions: “You go the right at the corner, then you’re going to go for another 40 minutes and pass three McDonalds and then make a right, then you’ll go to a church and make a left, then when you see a big tree, you take the next left.” I am not exaggerating. When I asked what the name of the roads are, they didn’t know. When I used my iPhone and named the roads (302, 28, etc), they didn’t know even though it was the road in front of them. But, the directions worked.
We made it to the vicinity but got lost after the third Mickey Ds. So, I asked for directions yet again, but to my luck, the guy I asked was a mute. He was mumbling something but we didn’t understand. We felt bad for him because he was trying help, but we had to ask someone else right next to him. And what do you know, he gave us the following directions: “Make a U, go to the church, make a right, continue until you pass a big white house, make a left and continue until you see a small blue sign.” Perfect directions.
As soon as we go there, we parked and ordered some Pinchos from some street vendors. Here you could order pork, beef or chicken on a stick, lathered with BBQ, and topped with a Tostone with garlic. Yummy and cheap! I had been to Crash Boat back in 2003 with my boys (Pato, Bori, Daniel and some Chinese guy) and it was a great time. The beach back then was full of life, it had a diverse group of people, locals, tourists, couples, singles, etc. This time however, it was one HUGE sausage fest. It was like College Spring Break without the chicks. Ok, it had some chicks, but they were jailbait. Not that I was looking for chicks, but I couldn’t help but notice how there were 30 guys to every girl. And there were all young. I guess it must have been either High School skip day or some freshmen college hang out day.
Anyways, I decided to go and do some snorkeling. There was absolutely nothing but white sand. There was an occasional unremarkable fish that followed me around, but that was about it. I ran into some scuba divers that must have been some real amateurs because they were occupying themselves with some small fishes. I guess they were learning. The diving at Crash Boat is just terrible, anyone who thinks it’s great has obviously not fully experience anything other than snorkeling. After about 15 minutes, once I made it to the pier, I made my way back. My uneventful snorkeling was disrupted when two guys jumped from the pier into the water and then started making out next to me. Yeah, awkward. After I made it back to land, we took some pictures but had to move to a more obscure location because the guys were just foaming at the mouth and the young chicks were hating on the hot woman with the hot bikini. Below are some pictures:
- The hot wife with the pier in the background
The hot wife striking a pose
Diving with Sharks in Little Corn Island (Honeymoon Day 6)
Although it was not always the case, rain had a peculiar way of changing my mood. It would bring a certain melancholy mixed with a hint of nostalgia and it would bring upon me an indistinct sadness that I carried with me like a rotten bag of potatoes over my shoulders. At times, this sadness, this vague loneliness would seep into my being like drops falling into an empty jar, somewhere in the darkness echoing regrets and past wounds. It was raining in paradise tonight. It was raining hard, with drops that hurt and were like small relentless darts piercing the ground. But tonight, oh tonight that jar that was hidden in the depths of my private solitude, that jar that was always thirsty for the melancholy and sadness was filled with the love of her breath, the warmth of her body and with each kiss, each splendid “I love you” sadness packed up and took it’s cold torturous hands, once used to chilling even my bones, and left. This was our first rainy night as a married couple and I, for the first time, felt whole when it rained.
It was a night tempered by furious winds from the sea and lighting streaks across the dark sky. The sound of the rain was fighting a losing battle with the sound of thunder rolling from one side of the punished island to the other. If the clouds were God’s wooden floors, then that night He was moving furniture around; that’s how the stern, harsh sound of rolling thunder sounded. We would be awakened by the recurring thunderclap that sounded like shattering crystals across the infinite sky. We could hear objects of all kinds flapping, pieces banging into the thinning palm trees which were fighting the heavy winds. I was more at peace than Monica. She was freaking out. Any major roar in the sky from thunder and she would twitch in her sleep.
In case you didn’t notice on the previous video I posted earlier, our love shack doesn’t have any lock, so essentially any one could at any point walk right in. As we were sleeping, Monica whimpered silently with fear. She made that sound that a frightened child would make. Her breathing increased exponentially, it felt as raging as the wind outside, but instead of the furious breathing of the sea, it was a breathing that cried of desperation. And then she made that sound: It was a genuine, gut-filled, blood rushing, breath-taking, my-life-is-flashing-before-my-eyes type of panicked shriek! She was wide awake, almost crying. “What’s wrong,” I urgently asked. “Someone is grabbing my feet!” she exclaimed panic-stricken. I searched in the darkness of the night for a silhouette of a perpetrator. And with all the wind that was angrily blowing through our love shack, the waves hammering the sand, the flapping of the leaves from the palm trees, the thunderclap, the lightning and the torrential rains this was a perfect setting for a horror movie. I narrowed my eyes and saw no movement by the door, no shadows among the shadows. Then a flash of lightning revealed nothing. I asked Monica if she wanted me to turn the light on. She whimpered again. My hand reached slowly towards the light and I felt Monica hold her breath in suspense, as if waiting to scream in terror. If this was a movie, there would have been that ominous sound of a violin or Psycho theme soundtrack as the camera focused on my hand slowly turning the light on and then it would have focus on her fear-gripped eyes as she hid her lower face behind the covers waiting to see the midnight foot masseuse at her feet.
And as you might have guessed it, it was nothing. I explained to her that the chances that a man was going to cross the jungle in the middle of the night, during a raging storm, only to come and give her a foot massage was very rare, almost next to impossible, and that that man would only be me. I must admit that she does have nice feet, but c’mon. As it turns out, luckily for her, her midnight foot masseuse happen to be me anyways. Well, sort of. You see, every time there was a loud thunderclap, Monica would twitch. It was like an automatic reaction or reflex. So, I thought she was having a nightmare, and like any loving husband, I moved closer to her and with my lonely feet caressed her tiny feet. I was only seeking to comfort her, to shield her from her own dreams. Little did I know this simple action of love was going to make us feel as if we were about to star in our own (very fake) horror movie sketch. After laughing about it, we went back to sleep with the soundtrack of nature’s rage.