Back to School

About a month ago my friend, Donna, asked me if I'd like to take a continuing education course with her at our local college.  The class is "Spanish for Nursing".  I quickly decided to attend with her.  I based my decision mostly on the fact that I like Donna.  Later, I wondered what I was thinking!  I already am quite busy, I'm too old to learn a new language, I get tired more easily than I once did so why would I want to go to a class after a day of working? ... I started coming up with lots of excuses.  However, I wanted to keep my word so, when class started this week, I went.

I took this photo while waiting for Donna to arrive.   I always love back-to-school sales and a fresh notebook makes my heart happy.  At least I had that to enjoy.  Still, I was thinking I'd rather stay in for the evening, maybe do a little crocheting.  I wonder if Donna offered to pick me up to make certain I actually went.

As we arrived at the college, I couldn't help but notice a couple of very young looking students walking by.  Oh man!  I felt OLD!

We found our building and went on in.  I was kind of hoping to find a big classroom full of other nurses.  I was hoping to be anonymous.  That was not to be!  Donna and I were the first to arrive and the instructor visited directly with us.  In fact, only four people showed up for the class.  So much for anonymity!  

Our instructor, however, was wonderful.  She told us, no, she PROMISED us, that we'd be able to read Spanish by the END OF THE FIRST CLASS!  What?  That seemed like a ridiculous statement.  I instantly liked her, though, so I played along.

Guess what!?  By the end of the class we could all read Spanish.  I am NOT KIDDING!  The woman is a miracle worker!  I realize that we won't understand much of what we are reading but we can read.  What's the use of that?  Well, let me tell you.  Along with the class we received a big notebook full of useful information just for nurses.  We can look up a phrase in that book, maybe something like, "I am going to give you an enema now."  We can read the corresponding words in Spanish that are right beside the English phrases and the Spanish-speaking person listening to us will hopefully understand our meaning (and in this case be filled with horror!).

As it turned out, the class was actually quite delightful.  I'm anxious to go back!  I've been practicing some of the words and phrases from the first class and am hoping I can remember them when called upon.  This is a very, very interactive class.  I do notice that I don't learn as easily as I once did; I have to work harder and practice more to keep things in my memory.  Nevertheless, I am certain that I will get some of this to stick.  It's actually kind of fun to be working on something new.  I feel like I've stepped out of my comfort zone but that is likely a good thing.

So, tell me what you've been learning.  Have you tried a new musical instrument, new crafting skill or maybe a bit of a new language such as what we are doing?  Is it hard?  Is it fun?  Is it exciting?

Pretending to Be My Age

When I was younger I knew, of course, that there were people of all different ages.  What I didn't understand, though, was that a lot of those people didn't really feel like they belonged in the age category to which they found themselves assigned.

Am I making sense?

Well, here's the thing.  I know in my head that I am now in the middle-aged category.  To be honest, I've been in that category for awhile now.  How did that happen?  You see, I still think of myself as a young mother.  I feel I should be about 32 or so.  I feel like I kind of got mentally or emotionally stuck there.  I feel comfortable there.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not really complaining about being in my 50's.  It's just that I feel like I'm only pretending to be in my 50's, like I'm wearing a costume or something, but inside I'm still 32.  It feels kind of weird to know that people I meet don't realize that.

This happened to me when I was 14 as well.  Someone asked me how old I was and I blurted out that I was 12.  I was horrified at my mistake.  What 14 year old wants to be 12?  Well, I think I liked being 12.  I felt comfortable being 12 for several years.

I was thinking about all this and remembered something I read a long time ago.  I read that inside every person is that person from every age they'd ever been.  That is, even a middle-aged person still has inside of them the memory of who they were at a younger age and really, they are that person still.  It's kind of true, don't you think?

Next time I look at an elderly person I'm going to be wondering if deep down they feel like an imposter.  Maybe they feel like they are 25 and just pretending to be old since they are stuck wearing an old costume.  Something to think about, right?

Mike and Me in Our Early 30's