Something's got to give

Turns out learning 90 or so pages of dialogue

and

maintaining my self-imposed Spanish-learning schedule (Oh wait. That one had to give, too.)

and

trying to make sure my family doesn't feel neglected by my new obligation

and

dealing with Lulu's raging case of strep throat with high fevers and such bad wheezing that she required breathing treatments

and

Shawn's upper respiratory/ear infections - so severe that I found myself putting aside my life view that he's a grown-ass man who can take care of himself and instead worrying that he was going to end up in the hospital with pneumonia

and

traveling to meet him while he was at a meeting in New York; getting stuck in Houston on the return trip home and promised a flight home two days later; not accepting that solution and driving the ten hours home (with a 2am pit stop in Wichita Falls; 5 hours of sleep and hitting the road again)

and

getting ready to take the kids skiing for their President's Day break from school

leaves 

no time to blog.

Until this play runs the first two weekends in March, I will hereby reference this blog post as "Post 2.14" and refer to it when life is just too crazy - and something has to give. And, judging from the fact that this very post sat unfinished on my computer for a week... I'll probably be referencing it a lot.

This, That and The Other

Whatcha been dooooooin'....?

Me?

I've been:

a) not blogging.

b) READING. I mean reading like they're about to stop making books.

I've read The Thirteenth Tale (for the third time. I'm telling y'all. It's hard to get into, but the ending. OMG. The ending. It makes it all worth it.)

I've read Guilt By Association (a friend's suggestion). Another one with a great ending, although I felt like I was trudging through parts in the middle.

And, also, because I'm a girl and I thought it was a requirement to read Nicholas Sparks, I read his most recent The Best of Me. Oh, sweet Lord. Those are a couple days of my life I'll never have back. CHEE-SY! I feel like Mr. Sparks might owe me some compensation for the part of my brain his corny story is occupying and won't relinquish.

c) learning Spanish. ¡Ay de mi! Es muy dificil. Posiblemente, porque soy estúpido.* Y'all? This is not an aptitude for me. I have a friend (from Brazil nonetheless) who says she loves learning new languages. This. is. not. something I can comprehend. But, I refuse (REFUSE. Do you hear me?!) to let this thing beat me! So. After a brief lengthy hiatus, I'm back at it. Rosetta Stone made me do about ten reviews before I was back at the lesson where I left off. I think that was it's way of reminding me how long I'd been gone. Tacky, Rosetta Stone. Tacky.

d) traveling. When you think of a chid-friendly, blast of a destination, where do you think? NEW JERSEY! I know! Us too! Long story, short, we were going to go with another couple to visit some friends who had moved to Jersey. But at the last minute the other couple had to cancel. Since our kids have known this family (in Elizabeth's case, literally) their whole lives, we decided to pack them up and take them with us. Best decision we've made in a while. Our kids and their kids had such a blast together, there were even a few damp eyes as our visit neared its end. And, on the drive to the airport, the kids asked why we can't just move to New Jersey. I'd say that's a good time.

e) holding down the fort. Shawn's out of town. Again. But, he gets back tonight. I would like to reiterate my theory that he just leaves town so I will appreciate how much better life is when he's here. That. And, he wants to be sure I know who the favored parent is by letting me hear our children ask, "When is Daddy coming home?" three or four times a day.

So. That's life in a nutshell.

I'm going to work on Spanish. *groan*

* Use Google Translate - you can see what that means.

When I Grow Up, I'm Going to be Responsible. I Wonder When That Will Be?

Today it was like I woke up and decided I should go ahead and continue with undertakings that I have completely and utterly pushed aside during our lazy summer.

First, I went back to workout at the Class of Torture I started attending back in May. It's no mystery why this has been getting neglected. It turns out it's fairly impossible to do squats while on crutches. But, after six weeks in the heinous Aircast from hell, I got the all-clear to exercise as long as I wear an only-slightly-less-heinous, lace-up brace for six more weeks.

I decided to amp it up a notch and attend class at 5:30 in the a.m., too. Because 9:00 a.m. is just too reasonable. That. And, I hate taking my kids to the childcare at the gym - they always look at me like they're living through their own personal Sophie's Choice... and I haven't chosen either of them.

So. Now I'm tired. And, my stomach muscles hurt so badly I think I might cry if I have to cough later.

But, waking up at the crack of dawn and pushing my body to its physical limits wasn't enough for me. Oh no. I decided to crack back open the Rosetta Stone. I quit doing this because... it's hard... and I'm a baby. I didn't want to do my Spanish lessons! (Imagine me stomping my feet for emphasis when you read that.)

But, I RE.FUSE. to admit defeat. So, I sat down with my laptop and headsets, opened up Rosetta Stone, and I'm pretty sure it said to me, "Where the hell have you been?!" But, it said it in Spanish, so I can't be sure.

I yelled, "Algún día trabajarán en un restaurante," and "Sí, tengo un pregunta," a couple of times... and, then I started writing this blog post... and reading other blogs... and commenting on other blogs... and adding some stuff to pinterest... and I did start some laundry...

Yep. Responsible. That's what I am.

I've Seen Who I REALLY Am. And, It's Not Pretty.

Just a little tip: If you don't want to be stalked by every bedridden invalid on Facebook, you should set your privacy settings very high! Be warned.

And, if you have the misfortune of actually being one of my friends on Facebook? The chances are very good that I have stalked you. And, if I haven't, I will soon.

So. To be clear. This is what I do with my confinement:

• I learn Spanish.
• I look through your pictures on Facebook.

Now you know.

My conscience is clear. Confession is good for the soul.

Now. I have to go. Tengo que hacer acosando.

Updates on Spanish, Exercise and Fascinators

There's not much to report around here.

In fact, there's so little going on that I took my obsession with the royal wedding to a whole new level and put a fascinator on my head.

Yeah. This is me taking a picture of myself and my
fascinator in the bathroom mirror. Don't judge me.

I like my fascinator. But, my sister probably said it best when she responded with, "London - yes. Amarillo - no." *sad*

I took a week off of Spanish. But, I'm back at it now. It's making me learn past and future tenses and it's just hard! *Imagine me stomping my feet and whining* I'm pretty sure that I almost told the Spanish-speaking housekeeper that I was going to "sell" her instead of "pay" her, too. I'm guessing she might not come back after that. Some people don't like human trafficking.

I've also begun acting like English is my second language. The greeter at Wal-Mart told me to "come back soon," and I had to think of the proper response because I knew it wasn't, "You, too." I asked the checker at Hobby Lobby, "Where is framing?" because I couldn't think of the pleasantries that should surround that statement.

In other news: I joined a gym. Even sweet Shawn agreed that I was probably asking more of my pants on Sunday then they were able to give. Sad. I guess I can't pretend that carpool pickup is exercise anymore. I haven't "officially" exercised now for four months. That's a third of a year. I should be ashamed. But, really. I hate exercise so much, I'm not.

However, getting out of shape has made my joints hurt. This is the beauty of my aging body: If my muscles aren't strong, my joints do all the work and they hurt. If I get up from sitting too long, I walk just like my 66-year-old dad. (Sorry, Dad, but it's true. My gross heels look like yours, too. Thanks for the DNA.) My hip hurts so badly at the moment that I think I had better get a Life Alert button. There's a chance I might fall and not be able to get up.

But, wait. Maybe I'll ditch exercise altogether and get a scooter! A scooter and a Life Alert button. And a fascinator. I'd be the hottest 37-year-old on the block!

Español es Dificil

... and I only wrote that title because I don't know how to say, "Learning Spanish is freakin' hard" in Spanish.

First off, I was wrong. There are five CDs for the Rosetta Stone Spanish course. There are four units in the first CD, so I'm assuming there are four units in each CD. That's twenty units (if only I were as good at Spanish as I am at multiplication...). I'm in the fourth unit. Ouch. I walk away from my lessons looking at Shawn like I suffer from PTSD and murmuring, "What have I done?!"

And, I still can't speak it. Except to my kids... who don't know anything more than remedial Spanish. So, I tell them I'm right, and they answer, "uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis!"

I also walk around my everyday life thinking things like, "Desayuno! That's 'breakfast'! Is that 'breakfast'? I don't know. I think that's 'breakfast.'"

I looked enviously at Elizabeth's Pre-K worksheet the other day. It said "Circle the things that are above..." and "Circle the things that are below..." I thought, "I could totally do a Spanish Pre-K worksheet." Unfortunately, I don't think anyone is going to handle me like a four-year-old when I try to converse with them in Spanish. So unfair. Those four-year-old Spanish kids don't know how good they've got it.

I'm not giving up on you, Rosetta Stone. I still believe your claims that you can teach me Spanish by the end of the twentieth unit. But, at the moment, you could call me skeptical.  Pretty much, if I went to a Spanish-speaking country right now, I would be committed to an insane asylum because I would just walk around yelling words like "breakfast!" and "bicycle!" and "sixty!"

Happy Birthday to Me...

...Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday dear Meeeee-eeee! Happy Birthday to Me!

My family is treating me like a queen... Well, unless the kids are acting like Spring Break-addled savages.

But, Lulu did dress like a "Birthday Sister" for me today:

This is what Sisters wear when there is a birthday. Didn't you know?

There's not much to report around here except that two semesters of college Spanish will, evidently, get you through Lesson 4 of Disk 1 (out of three!) on Rosetta Stone. Awesome. And, I'm pretty sure the Spanish-speaking housekeeper is getting nervous listening to me yell, "Las bicicletas son amarillas!" at the computer.

Also, Cousin David is visiting from Kansas. He's staying with Shawn's parents. But, I've somehow managed the coup of sending both of my children with G'Pa, as well, the past couple of mornings! And, tonight all three kids are going to have a slumber party at G'Pa and G'Ma's house so Shawn can take me out for a Birthday Dinner. Have I mentioned how much I love my in-laws?

I should probably appreciate them now, though. I'm pretty sure they'll be dead by the morning. These three kids are a lot to handle all at once. Their rowdiness grows exponentially when placed in the same room together.

And, there is a better than average chance that I signed up to host that slumber party tomorrow night. I'm getting dumb in my old age.

Anyway. Happy Birthday to Meeeee!

Sí, Yo Estoy Aprendiendo Español

Yes, I'm learning Spanish because, well, duh. Why wouldn't I be learning Spanish?

Actually, I'm learning Spanish for Lent. I don't usually like to talk about what I'm doing for Lent*, but I realized it was a little odd to announce that I was learning Spanish without a bit of an explanation.

Anyway, I stole my mom's Rosetta Stone. And... I'm off.

I've finished Lesson 1. So, pretty much, if you need me say "hello," "goodbye," or tell you that he/she/they are eating/drinking/running/reading/or cooking... I might be able. If you gave me some time to think about it.

And, that Spanish title for this post?

I had to use Google Translator.

*(DISCLAIMER: The following expressed views, opinions, positions or strategies are Ali's alone and do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions, positions or strategies of any other religious and/or reasonable person in this universe.) I think Lent is our time to think about the sacrifice and gift God gave to each of us, personally, on Easter. Therefore, whatever we sacrifice or dedicate as a penitence to God should probably be kept between us and God, don't you think? I mean, I know someone might ask, or you might have to explain why you're passing on that glass of wine (so people don't accuse you of being pregnant and then you're all mad and that's not what God intended for his children...) - I mean, I don't hold it as closely a guarded secret as I would, say, my cherry pie recipe. But I don't know. For me, it's personal.

But, don't even get me started on the people who use Lent as their own personal kick-start to a diet every year... But, I'm not judging. Nope. I gave that up for Lent, too. Oh. Wait. Damn...