Rosetta is flying through colors and numbers and nouns like café coffee, pan bread, agua water - you know, important words you can't live without. In a way, it's like your childhood has been revisited, in Spanish, in fast forward. What took you a year in preschool to grasp, is now taught in a couple units. Rosetta is not for sissies.
She's also a tireless teacher, insisting you get it right before you move on. Gosh, wouldn't that be a concept for success in the American educational system... Anyway, I couldn't for the life of me pronounce the word blanco correctly. Speaking into my air traffic controller-like headset/microphone get-up, I'd say blanco, (beep), blaanco (beep), blanKO (beep), blanco! (beep), BLANCO (beep), shit (beep). When I screw up, it makes me feel self-conscious, so American. Then I take a deep breath, imagine myself on some beach in Cozumel watching a white horse run by, "Oye, el caballo blanco!" (bling!).
There's also a CD set to listen to in the car as a review of your computer lessons. It's amazing how much I'm actually understanding in this new language. Now if only my XM Radio station, Caliente, would play slow songs with the words "Le pasta es verde," (The grass is green) "y la luna es blanca," (and the moon is white), I'd know what the heck they were singing about.
From the library, I borrowed several Spanish books: The Idiot's Guide to Learning Spanish (for obvious reasons), Buenos Noches Luna, Good Night Moon, and Amelia Bedelia. I'll need a dictionary for the last one because Amelia gets into all sorts of trouble by doing things literally, like "dust the furniture," and she literally pours dust on it. That one will be interesting to learn some double entendres. I looked for our own Amelia and Good Night Moon books, now stowed away for future grandchildren, as our youngest is almost 16. Buenos Noches Luna was actually pretty easy to read, as I had memorized the English version with so many repeated readings throughout the years. It made me nostalgic for all those happy hours spent reading to our four children. I am so grateful for all the stories that have been stuffed into our heads.
I feel like I'm cracking a secret code. When I asked my husband if he could tell my brain was growing, he said, "Yep, smoke is coming out your ears." Sometimes it feels like that!