I've never been the sort to forge a link between personal change with the beginning of something--i.e. New Year's resolutions, starting a diet on Monday, quitting smoking/drinking/inappropriate fornicating after Friday's party, etc. Having subscribed long ago to the belief that self-improvement should begin immediately, posting this blog is, well, a bit stressful. It is officially New Year's Day and it appears, for all intents and purposes, that I have resolved to quit neglecting my blogs. The truth is actually a bit more complex.
A couple of months ago, I realized that I hadn't blogged on this website or my writing blog in a rather long time (although I truly had no idea that it had been well over a year!), so I needed to either resume blogging or shut both down. Well, a few people know that a couple of years ago, I started a novel. The writing website was created to promote myself and eventually the novel. Meanwhile, one kid has graduated from high school, another is set to graduate this spring, and the youngest has been busy being the youngest. Add to that the day-to-day business of running a household, nurturing a marriage, working part time, etc., I haven't given much thought to the details that make me who I am at my core. Throughout my being, I'm a creative, artsy-fartsy sort. So why hadn't I been knitting, writing, or making stuff? Life is the priority. If it couldn't be combined with family time, it simply didn't get done.
For now, the plan is to post here and to the writing blog a few times a week. Most of my handmade stuff will get posted here. The other stuff--memes, real life, fiction, pictures--will go to the other site. But at the end of the day, I cannot predict the outcome of this website or progress on my writing website. All I can really say about it is that I hope I can balance my priorities. Perhaps my responsible self will learn to coexist with my creative self. And really, that's all that any mom/wife/sister/friend/__ can ask for.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Monday, December 6, 2010
"How Do I Look?"*
When you hear "Audrey Hepburn," perhaps you think of...
Although most people probably think of...
But if you want indisputable proof of her beauty, consider this...
* Quote from Hepburn's character, Holly Golightly, in Breakfast at Tiffany's, to which the character, Paul Varjak, replies, "Very good. I must say, I'm amazed."
Although most people probably think of...
But if you want indisputable proof of her beauty, consider this...
* Quote from Hepburn's character, Holly Golightly, in Breakfast at Tiffany's, to which the character, Paul Varjak, replies, "Very good. I must say, I'm amazed."
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Free Reads
We TV premiered a new reality show called "Downsized" (Saturday, 9/8c). It features a blended family of 9, struggling to make ends meet since the economy and housing market took an enormous dump. They've already filed bankruptcy and now they're dumpster diving, scrubbing toilets, and doing whatever they need to in order to get out of their state of poverty.
Although I find some aspects of the family dynamic to be ridiculous (i.e. applying 8% of the family's income toward the youngest daughter's cheerleading, when they barely make rent), a few ideas are pretty darned inspiring. In last week's episode, the mom started a housecleaning business. She's a bit of a wuss, so not only did she undercharge the homeowner, she agreed to bring in her own cleaning supplies. Since the family didn't really have the money to invest in cleaning products, she looked up recipes using common household items like baking soda and vinegar. I've been using both homemade cleansers as well as the commercial varieties, so I paid some attention. Now, for my wood furniture, I'm partial to Pledge. It's a throwback to my days as a wee one. Since my bathtub isn't connected to the shower and I don't have an extendable nozzle for it, I prefer baking soda and Dawn because everything is a pain in the hindquarters to rinse, and if I don't rinse as well as I should, it'd probably be better to soak in a tub laced with baking soda and dish soap than a tub of Soft Scrub. Anyway, when you're looking at a lady and her kids who are used to paying someone $125 to clean the house, it's pretty neat to watch them switch gears and choose responsibility over self-pity (in which they occasionally indulge). Anyway, it all got me thinking that even though my family is doing okay these days, saving money is never really a bad idea.
Last year, I went on a magazine and novel diet. When I learned that I was spending up to $175(!) a month on novels, I knew that I had to put the kibosh on that and really analyze how I spent the family's money. So for a month, I decided that I wouldn't buy any magazines or novels for myself. That meant learning to limit myself to window shopping at Barnes & Noble and Half Price Books, undoing habits that I didn't even realize I were ingrained.
The city libraries made it so much easier. It seems that almost any title I'm interested in is available at the library, including a few magazines I enjoy, such as Self. I come from a city with the worst library so this is truly a breath of fresh air. The big prince's school has a public library on its campus, so I often send my checked out items to school with him so he may return them for me. They also have a decent stock of ebooks, so I've spent very little on books for my reader. In fact, last summer, I kept myself up to my armpits in ebooks from 1,250 miles away. The first three weeks were pretty easy, but I almost fell off the wagon on the 28th day. The book section at Wal-Mart called to me like the donut shop next to the Jenny Craig. However, with some help from my step-princess, I stayed on track. So I did what any intelligent, victorious woman would do--I extended the diet. For four month, I didn't buy a magazine or a book.
When I did give myself permission to buy a book, my standards raised to the point where for weeks, I couldn't decide on a book to buy. When I finally did, I felt horrible about it, like I had betrayed my family. Eventually, book shopping became easier until I could finally shop with wild abandon again (although not to the tune of $175 a month).
So here it is, a year later, and I'm back on the magazine and novel diet. The trigger? After watching "Downsized," I autumn-cleaned my house. The number of magazines that went to recycling and the library swap bin was astounding. Many dollars over the last few months gone down the drain. The two exceptions are knitting books and magazines (same exeption as the last diet) and Runner's World (since the library doesn't carry it and Half Price Books seldom gets recent copies, plus I plan to actually subscribe to two knitting magazines and RW). Maybe it seems ridiculous to feel so good about doing something so small, but I've learned that small things can lead to more small things until everything together equals big change.
Although I find some aspects of the family dynamic to be ridiculous (i.e. applying 8% of the family's income toward the youngest daughter's cheerleading, when they barely make rent), a few ideas are pretty darned inspiring. In last week's episode, the mom started a housecleaning business. She's a bit of a wuss, so not only did she undercharge the homeowner, she agreed to bring in her own cleaning supplies. Since the family didn't really have the money to invest in cleaning products, she looked up recipes using common household items like baking soda and vinegar. I've been using both homemade cleansers as well as the commercial varieties, so I paid some attention. Now, for my wood furniture, I'm partial to Pledge. It's a throwback to my days as a wee one. Since my bathtub isn't connected to the shower and I don't have an extendable nozzle for it, I prefer baking soda and Dawn because everything is a pain in the hindquarters to rinse, and if I don't rinse as well as I should, it'd probably be better to soak in a tub laced with baking soda and dish soap than a tub of Soft Scrub. Anyway, when you're looking at a lady and her kids who are used to paying someone $125 to clean the house, it's pretty neat to watch them switch gears and choose responsibility over self-pity (in which they occasionally indulge). Anyway, it all got me thinking that even though my family is doing okay these days, saving money is never really a bad idea.
Last year, I went on a magazine and novel diet. When I learned that I was spending up to $175(!) a month on novels, I knew that I had to put the kibosh on that and really analyze how I spent the family's money. So for a month, I decided that I wouldn't buy any magazines or novels for myself. That meant learning to limit myself to window shopping at Barnes & Noble and Half Price Books, undoing habits that I didn't even realize I were ingrained.
The city libraries made it so much easier. It seems that almost any title I'm interested in is available at the library, including a few magazines I enjoy, such as Self. I come from a city with the worst library so this is truly a breath of fresh air. The big prince's school has a public library on its campus, so I often send my checked out items to school with him so he may return them for me. They also have a decent stock of ebooks, so I've spent very little on books for my reader. In fact, last summer, I kept myself up to my armpits in ebooks from 1,250 miles away. The first three weeks were pretty easy, but I almost fell off the wagon on the 28th day. The book section at Wal-Mart called to me like the donut shop next to the Jenny Craig. However, with some help from my step-princess, I stayed on track. So I did what any intelligent, victorious woman would do--I extended the diet. For four month, I didn't buy a magazine or a book.
When I did give myself permission to buy a book, my standards raised to the point where for weeks, I couldn't decide on a book to buy. When I finally did, I felt horrible about it, like I had betrayed my family. Eventually, book shopping became easier until I could finally shop with wild abandon again (although not to the tune of $175 a month).
So here it is, a year later, and I'm back on the magazine and novel diet. The trigger? After watching "Downsized," I autumn-cleaned my house. The number of magazines that went to recycling and the library swap bin was astounding. Many dollars over the last few months gone down the drain. The two exceptions are knitting books and magazines (same exeption as the last diet) and Runner's World (since the library doesn't carry it and Half Price Books seldom gets recent copies, plus I plan to actually subscribe to two knitting magazines and RW). Maybe it seems ridiculous to feel so good about doing something so small, but I've learned that small things can lead to more small things until everything together equals big change.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Mother Knows Best (and I've been called a mutha...)
After the kiddos hit the sack last night, I roamed my Blogger dashboard and rediscovered my former blog. For no identifiable reason, I read the posts. Perhaps such nostalgia should have been saved for the daylight hours. Well, live and learn.
One of the posts from May 2008 announces a trip to California to accompany my then ailing mum to various medical appointments. I remember knowing that something was terribly wrong with her and believing that the solution was as simple as an accurate diagnosis.
Skip ahead to the next post, a month and a half later. I composed it 8 hours before my mom died. As I reread my words, everything flooded back--worry, anger, resentment, and above all else, fear. And my fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in. Here I am, years later, Pandora's Box open wide. Last night, every muscle raged to kick things, scream, call my mum's doctors to remind them of what I've lost.
But one thing that 36 years with my mum plus 2 1/2 years without her have taught me is that sometimes your first instinct could be entirely wrong. Everything looks different in the natural light so it may be best to step back and really analyze the situation. I took a scalding-hot shower and thought that if it's 1 A.M. here, then it's only 11 P.M. in California, so it wouldn't do any good to call the hospital with my rants because I probably wouldn't be waking anyone up (never mind that the offices were closed, anyway). And what's the point of a middle-of-the-night rant if you're not making someone on the other end miserable?
Today is sunny and cool, the air is fairly still. Basically, it's a perfect day in Texas, providing what Mum would agree is the perfect light. Everyone looks amazing and perfect on a day like today and troubles, well, it's much easier to remember that they're temporary. Everything is.
It's over 12 hours since my "episode." I spent the morning having coffee with two of the most amazing women I have the privilege to know, followed by an hour of listening to my boy's school rave about how fantastic he is. Yes, I'm still miffed about my mum getting the shaft, but she promised me that everything would be fine, and she was right.
Same blog, six months later, exactly two years ago from today... I declared the Year of Michelle. At the time, I figured that if I could make myself a "better" person and make good things happen for myself, good things would happen for others around me as a result. I've spent two years stage-hopping through grief, while the Year of Michelle took a backseat to other priorities.
But without even trying, things have changed for me. My family and I have shared around a zillion laughs, my kiddos reached milestones, I've become kinder and less judgmental, and I have a much closer relationship with my dad. I've overcome my fear of singing in public (well, sort of), become more fiscally responsible, read some of the best strings of written words, and found a way to pay homage to the females who mean everything to me.
So really, Year of Michelle rolls on. I'll continue to hammer out power ballads on my drums, drive like the old lady in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, alert people who have food between their teeth or toilet paper from their shoes, and marvel at how a smartass like me has such sweet, helpful, disciplined, well-rounded kiddos.
One more task is added to the mix. I will no longer take peaceful moments for granted. It's one thing to notice a pretty flower when you're walking past it, but it's quite another to actually stop and smell it. So I challenge you to do the same. Every now and then, just stop to consider that everything is actually okay. And if it isn't, then it will be. I assure you of this because my mum told me so.
One of the posts from May 2008 announces a trip to California to accompany my then ailing mum to various medical appointments. I remember knowing that something was terribly wrong with her and believing that the solution was as simple as an accurate diagnosis.
Skip ahead to the next post, a month and a half later. I composed it 8 hours before my mom died. As I reread my words, everything flooded back--worry, anger, resentment, and above all else, fear. And my fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in. Here I am, years later, Pandora's Box open wide. Last night, every muscle raged to kick things, scream, call my mum's doctors to remind them of what I've lost.
But one thing that 36 years with my mum plus 2 1/2 years without her have taught me is that sometimes your first instinct could be entirely wrong. Everything looks different in the natural light so it may be best to step back and really analyze the situation. I took a scalding-hot shower and thought that if it's 1 A.M. here, then it's only 11 P.M. in California, so it wouldn't do any good to call the hospital with my rants because I probably wouldn't be waking anyone up (never mind that the offices were closed, anyway). And what's the point of a middle-of-the-night rant if you're not making someone on the other end miserable?
Today is sunny and cool, the air is fairly still. Basically, it's a perfect day in Texas, providing what Mum would agree is the perfect light. Everyone looks amazing and perfect on a day like today and troubles, well, it's much easier to remember that they're temporary. Everything is.
It's over 12 hours since my "episode." I spent the morning having coffee with two of the most amazing women I have the privilege to know, followed by an hour of listening to my boy's school rave about how fantastic he is. Yes, I'm still miffed about my mum getting the shaft, but she promised me that everything would be fine, and she was right.
Same blog, six months later, exactly two years ago from today... I declared the Year of Michelle. At the time, I figured that if I could make myself a "better" person and make good things happen for myself, good things would happen for others around me as a result. I've spent two years stage-hopping through grief, while the Year of Michelle took a backseat to other priorities.
But without even trying, things have changed for me. My family and I have shared around a zillion laughs, my kiddos reached milestones, I've become kinder and less judgmental, and I have a much closer relationship with my dad. I've overcome my fear of singing in public (well, sort of), become more fiscally responsible, read some of the best strings of written words, and found a way to pay homage to the females who mean everything to me.
So really, Year of Michelle rolls on. I'll continue to hammer out power ballads on my drums, drive like the old lady in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, alert people who have food between their teeth or toilet paper from their shoes, and marvel at how a smartass like me has such sweet, helpful, disciplined, well-rounded kiddos.
One more task is added to the mix. I will no longer take peaceful moments for granted. It's one thing to notice a pretty flower when you're walking past it, but it's quite another to actually stop and smell it. So I challenge you to do the same. Every now and then, just stop to consider that everything is actually okay. And if it isn't, then it will be. I assure you of this because my mum told me so.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
What Are Ya Gonna Do? *shrugs*
Over a year ago, I went on a password-changing spree. It's a good idea to change passwords on various accounts every now and then, since we live in a world of some serious whackadoodles who have no issue with sucking the fun out of all things online. Anyhoo, this created issues with accessing my blog. Every time I've wanted to post, I have had to change my password. It's a pain in the nethers. My solution? Kick the dirt, pout, then move on.
I'm sitting with my breakfast sandwich (1/4 cup egg whites, an egg, garlic, green onion, a wedge of Laughing Cow Light Swiss, on two slices of Double-Fiber bread). As I took the first bite, I thought about some of my strange habits. For example, I cut my sandwiches into triangles (rectangles have been known to disturb me*) and eat the piece with the rounded top first. Why? Because I favor the half with three points so I save it for last.
When I go to the bookstore, I always troll in the same order: periodicals, exercise and makeup books, knitting and sewing books, reference, graphic novels, kids' books (if I have kiddos with me), then novels. If I'm purchasing, I do so in the cafe where I order a soy latte. My route moves me through the store in a clockwise manner. Since breaking habits is supposed to be good for the brain, I have tried to change up the order a few times. But that left me feeling unsettled.
Between this post and Ravelry trolling, I've spent enough time to safely get off my bum and move around rigorously. I changed my password for this? Neat-o.
*Note: I have no issue when someone else makes a sandwich for me then cuts it into rectangles. I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
I'm sitting with my breakfast sandwich (1/4 cup egg whites, an egg, garlic, green onion, a wedge of Laughing Cow Light Swiss, on two slices of Double-Fiber bread). As I took the first bite, I thought about some of my strange habits. For example, I cut my sandwiches into triangles (rectangles have been known to disturb me*) and eat the piece with the rounded top first. Why? Because I favor the half with three points so I save it for last.
When I go to the bookstore, I always troll in the same order: periodicals, exercise and makeup books, knitting and sewing books, reference, graphic novels, kids' books (if I have kiddos with me), then novels. If I'm purchasing, I do so in the cafe where I order a soy latte. My route moves me through the store in a clockwise manner. Since breaking habits is supposed to be good for the brain, I have tried to change up the order a few times. But that left me feeling unsettled.
Between this post and Ravelry trolling, I've spent enough time to safely get off my bum and move around rigorously. I changed my password for this? Neat-o.
*Note: I have no issue when someone else makes a sandwich for me then cuts it into rectangles. I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Aye, Me Bum!
Simple rules when faced with trying times:
1. Acknowledge the feeling.
2. Embrace it.
3. Release it.
Easy. I turn to this list when something makes me sad, angry, or even confused. Of late, however, there is one thing that has me completely baffled to the point where I can't even name the feeling...
Aging.
I would never want to be the head-in-the-clouds dumbass that I was at 21 (although I wouldn't mind having my 21-year-old ass back). But dang, it was so easy to take things for granted. Pimple before a date? Smack some concealer on it! A little too much to love around the middle? Why, add four more sit-ups to the routine and drink more water! Bender the night before? A couple of aspirin and greasy tacos! Aches and pains? What are those?!
As I approach 40, the answers change. Pimple before one of three dates a year with my husband? Why the heck am I still getting pimples! A little too much to love around the middle? To my children: Yeah, you're welcome! Bender the night before? The nights are perfect for catching up on chores, TiVo, and crashing out on the couch to wake up at 3 AM with a magazine page stuck to my face! Aches and pains? Aye, where do I begin?
When I was 21, I had no idea that how you age isn't so much about making a conscious decision to grow old gracefully, but rather a culmination of little decisions that lead to how well we age. For example, when faced with the decision to either go to the gym or take the day off, well, in the grand scheme of things, one day might not look like it would make a difference. But overall, that one workout takes you one workout closer to your overall goal. Applying that same logic, skipping that one workout can keep you one workout away from your overall goal. And there is nothing wrong with taking the middle road--resting and doing half a workout. But when faced with choices--i.e. hit the gym or head into downtown Frankfurt with friends--I generally chose the latter. I don't regret it, but it's something to think about.
At 28, I came to realize that the popular people on TV were, for the most part, younger than I. This realization sucked because I was a single mom and I wasn't ready to feel old.
On my 30th birthday, I took the day off from work. The kiddos were in school and the fella who is now my husband was sleeping so I went to a park and cried (a bit dramatic, considering it was just about crossing the threshold into another decade). Then I took a nap.
Now whenever I hang out with my step-daughter who is now 16, I am constantly reminded (although silently, unintentionally, and without malice) that I am getting older. Older. Hm.
Okay, so bad decisions and theatrics aside, what about aging? We can't avoid it. Sure, our physical appearances do...whatever. But why am I so hung up on it? Because weird things are happening to my body. I'm not talking about puberty or menopause, I'm just saying that some things now point to my shoes and other things have developed strange aches in places I didn't know aches could exist. And despite my efforts, stuff happens. Gravity. Muscle pains that don't make sense (like, my calves are sore after BodyPump--geez). And you know what I find even weirder about aging? I'm living healthier than I ever have and weird things are still happening. I floss daily, I drink water, I exercise, I wear sunblock.
1. Acknowledge the feeling.
2. Embrace it.
3. Release it.
Easy. I turn to this list when something makes me sad, angry, or even confused. Of late, however, there is one thing that has me completely baffled to the point where I can't even name the feeling...
Aging.
I would never want to be the head-in-the-clouds dumbass that I was at 21 (although I wouldn't mind having my 21-year-old ass back). But dang, it was so easy to take things for granted. Pimple before a date? Smack some concealer on it! A little too much to love around the middle? Why, add four more sit-ups to the routine and drink more water! Bender the night before? A couple of aspirin and greasy tacos! Aches and pains? What are those?!
As I approach 40, the answers change. Pimple before one of three dates a year with my husband? Why the heck am I still getting pimples! A little too much to love around the middle? To my children: Yeah, you're welcome! Bender the night before? The nights are perfect for catching up on chores, TiVo, and crashing out on the couch to wake up at 3 AM with a magazine page stuck to my face! Aches and pains? Aye, where do I begin?
When I was 21, I had no idea that how you age isn't so much about making a conscious decision to grow old gracefully, but rather a culmination of little decisions that lead to how well we age. For example, when faced with the decision to either go to the gym or take the day off, well, in the grand scheme of things, one day might not look like it would make a difference. But overall, that one workout takes you one workout closer to your overall goal. Applying that same logic, skipping that one workout can keep you one workout away from your overall goal. And there is nothing wrong with taking the middle road--resting and doing half a workout. But when faced with choices--i.e. hit the gym or head into downtown Frankfurt with friends--I generally chose the latter. I don't regret it, but it's something to think about.
At 28, I came to realize that the popular people on TV were, for the most part, younger than I. This realization sucked because I was a single mom and I wasn't ready to feel old.
On my 30th birthday, I took the day off from work. The kiddos were in school and the fella who is now my husband was sleeping so I went to a park and cried (a bit dramatic, considering it was just about crossing the threshold into another decade). Then I took a nap.
Now whenever I hang out with my step-daughter who is now 16, I am constantly reminded (although silently, unintentionally, and without malice) that I am getting older. Older. Hm.
Okay, so bad decisions and theatrics aside, what about aging? We can't avoid it. Sure, our physical appearances do...whatever. But why am I so hung up on it? Because weird things are happening to my body. I'm not talking about puberty or menopause, I'm just saying that some things now point to my shoes and other things have developed strange aches in places I didn't know aches could exist. And despite my efforts, stuff happens. Gravity. Muscle pains that don't make sense (like, my calves are sore after BodyPump--geez). And you know what I find even weirder about aging? I'm living healthier than I ever have and weird things are still happening. I floss daily, I drink water, I exercise, I wear sunblock.
There is no choice between being a dumb animal of 21 or a wise neurotic of one's late 30s. And while I have acquired years of wisdom and accomplishment, I still stand around and wonder, why do my bum muscles ache like they took a bum whooping? Hm.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
[Insert Clever Blog Title Here]
I can't wrap my head around the fact that we are already in the throes of June 2010. Seriously. This blog has been neglected since February and this very idea cracks me up. While I would love to attribute this hilarious (in my mind) fact to a jam-packed schedule of kids' activities, volunteer work, and running a household, the simple truth is that I received an iPhone for my birthday. So, not only am I one of those annoying douchebags with an iPhone, but the dang thing has kept me from needing a PC. I Facebook on that thing, as well as check my Twitter, Yahoo! IM, and even keep updated on Good Reads. Well, I bank on a PC, but that's been pretty much it. I did try to blog on my iPhone once and that didn't go over too well. The problem? I had forgotten my Blogger password. Geez.
So I am back on a PC. Why? Well, my office/craft room is starting to take shape. Shortly after my mom died, my dad came out here with a big ol' trailer packed with her stuff. We unloaded it into the garage and into this room, but the wounds hadn't scabbed over yet so I couldn't really walk in here without a meltdown. Things changed gradually and now, well, it's still a mess, but it's a bit more of an organized mess, if that makes sense. I recorded a video of the room before I started moving things around. Maybe I'll get around to posting it and shooting another one to show the progress. Believe me, you needed a road map or a trail of bread crumbs to navigate your way out of here at one point.
Things are going to be a little busier this fall. I am now a Girl Scout troop leader (stop laughing) and have two jobs with the PTA (stop laughing). However, I'm not one to take on more than I can reasonably handle, so these new things should keep me out of trouble next year (really, stop laughing). As for the summer, busy, busy, busy, as summers generally are. It's Mija's first legitimate summer vacation, so we're spending lots of time at the library, as well as other places with central AC. I will probably try to find work in August, since I really want Senor to go back to school next year. We'll see.
It's sprinkling/raining, but I promised Mijo that we would go to the gym. So until next time, hasta lluego.
So I am back on a PC. Why? Well, my office/craft room is starting to take shape. Shortly after my mom died, my dad came out here with a big ol' trailer packed with her stuff. We unloaded it into the garage and into this room, but the wounds hadn't scabbed over yet so I couldn't really walk in here without a meltdown. Things changed gradually and now, well, it's still a mess, but it's a bit more of an organized mess, if that makes sense. I recorded a video of the room before I started moving things around. Maybe I'll get around to posting it and shooting another one to show the progress. Believe me, you needed a road map or a trail of bread crumbs to navigate your way out of here at one point.
Things are going to be a little busier this fall. I am now a Girl Scout troop leader (stop laughing) and have two jobs with the PTA (stop laughing). However, I'm not one to take on more than I can reasonably handle, so these new things should keep me out of trouble next year (really, stop laughing). As for the summer, busy, busy, busy, as summers generally are. It's Mija's first legitimate summer vacation, so we're spending lots of time at the library, as well as other places with central AC. I will probably try to find work in August, since I really want Senor to go back to school next year. We'll see.
It's sprinkling/raining, but I promised Mijo that we would go to the gym. So until next time, hasta lluego.
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