Down the Drain

A few things seem to be going down the proverbial drain right now. As I type this, Jenn is puffing on a nebulizer because she has managed to get Bronchitis and some other medical junk. She is on 'Roids right now (She said the doctor prescribed them, but I think she's just trying to get in the Olympic spirit.) You know how former gymnasts are.

I'm definitely not a Spanish speaking whiz but many of the things I have known for years and even re-learned this trimester have suddenly decided to go down the drain. I am experiencing some kind of Span-mnesia. These kind of symptoms are usually the result of massive head trauma. Thankfully, the only trauma my head has experienced is massive information overload. My brain is like a glass (more like a shot-glass); it can only contain so much before it overflows in order to make room for the new stuff. I'm losing some of the basic stuff. I feel like it's in there somewhere but I can't seem to remember where I put it. Not to worry though, I have four whole days to get my stuff straightened out before my 1st Oral Proficiency Interview (OPI). YIKES!

For a reprieve from the mounting stresses, I took the boys to play soccer in the park with some of their new Tico friends. Five minutes into the game and the ball was in the street. No big deal except for the fact that all the grates which cover the street drains have been jacked. I was able to lower 3/4 of my body into the 5 feet deep hole and retrieve the ball with my feet. It was game on once again. 15 minutes later and the ball was back in the street. Fortunately, the oncoming car saw the ball and slowed his car to a crawl. Unfortunately, his front wheel "crawled" over the ball. It had a certain egg shaped appearance after that. One of the Ticos said it looked like an American football:) Everyone knows that soccer balls have atleast 3 lives so we played on. Within a few minutes, the ball had found its home-away-from-home (i.e. the street) again. We all watched hopefully as the ball traveled westbound. So much for that. Immediately, it found another drain. We couldn't see the ball this time so I lowered one of the boys into the curbside cavern. However, it was all for nothing because the ball had already made its way into the maze of pipes never to be seen again. As we returned to the field/vacant lot, the 9 year-old owner of the ball was visibly sad. After consoling him for a bit, we said, "Well, atleast we have buddies to play with in Costa Rica!"

So here we stand, certainly with struggles but BLESSED!