By the Skin of Our Teeth

We made it through the second week of what will likely forever be known in our house as the Winter-from-Hell. This waking up super-early is really hard on the entire family. Tot has a cold, natch. I was having some mystery pains and then got my period and was super-bitch yesterday. Absurdist Lover is slogging through his job, which he hates. My father is in the hospital with a bad flare-up of his chronic illness. Fun the whole way around.

I have some stuff I want to blog about my scholarship. I've been doing important things while nursing and praying for my son to sleep, like deciding to name my work Turnip Studies. (He's been going to sleep at midnight and, you have to understand, there's not a lot that can make you smile while you're sitting there in the dark hoping your tot will go to sleep and hoping you will not.)

But this is not the time. I can only describe the mood I'm in as the kind of mood when you decide that it makes sense to go trolling the internet for celebrity gossip. I think I'm going to order some old movies. I'm just tired and grumpy, glad it's the weekend because I could not be kind and supportive to worried students just now (especially those having trouble following my directions!!!). We're a sick house, watching lots of Elmo videos. I haven't left the house in over 24 hours, and I'm sure the Coffee Corporation is suffering without my patronage. We ate all the chocolate in our house last night. It's freaking cold. Grumble, grumble. I'm still here, but not so pleasant. Sorry. I shall return when I have something new to say.

Making It through the First Week

Wow. I don't know even what to say, but wow. I'm teaching at 8am course. Teaching at 8am means I have to wake up at 5 because it takes me a really long time to wake up and get my tongue untied and because I'm still nursing the Tot and he needs to eat before I run out for a really long day. It's also winter, which means there's all that extra bother in the morning with the car -- and then there the actual driving which could be terrible. And when I'm driving, it's still dark out. I'm visiting the Coffee Corporation before I go into work, not that I haven't been normally, but this is a must! And then there's actually teaching a full course of none-too-happy freshmen who only reluctantly take my course even as they grudgingly admit that it's useful and they need it. Great. That attitude always makes everything fun -- especially at 8am.

But this is the course I decided to theme, and so I'm determined to have fun with it. I've actually completely revamped my courses, and, inspired by this and the example of a Senior Scholar back at Grad City U, have decided to really experiment with non-traditional grading. I find myself hating grading, and it occurs to me that straining my brain to figure out whether a paper is a B- or C+ is not a great use of my time -- and does the students precious little good too in terms of actual learning and improving their skills. I also revamped my upper division course. Whereas last year I felt that I was in the wrong place, now I feel a bit invigorated by the challenge of presenting such alternate ideas in front of them. (They can argue them down and become more critical thinkers that way.) Or, maybe, with my birthday this year making me feel distinctly middle-aged, I just want to be less Miss Nice and Trying to Help, and relax into being more myself. Maybe not so helpful all the time.

I calculated my hours by writing down when I was working at home and assuming that when I was at work, I was working (which was not always true because sometimes, like today, I find it hard to settle down after I teach into getting anything done). For the week, it is about 32 hours. But who knows what I will do over the weekend (and I do need to do quite a bit actually). I think it will be just about 40 in the end, and so I shouldn't worry anymore about the actual hours or whether I'm overdoing or underdoing, but whether I'm getting done what I wanted to get done. I'm going to try to keep on top of things this quarter, though I already feel all my different commitments spreading me out. For that reason, this financial seminar that I thought I'd take to get the money under control -- well, I've decided I'm not going to add any activities that do not contribute directly to my immediate physical and mental health. The finances certainly do that but at the cost of one evening per week. This quarter is already going to be severely taxing. I'm changing the habits of a life time and saying no to spreading myself too thin.

I actually want to use little bits of time I may have for work because good things are happening on the scholarly front: my little article got accepted, and another Senior Scholar (who surprised me in the dark ages of this blog by asking me for a copy of my dissertation when such dissertation was more imaginary than real) invited me to submit an essay for a volume. The volume is in an area I used to do more work in, or was trying to, but when I received the invitation I couldn't help but sketch out some ideas, even though I haven't yet answered Zie's email. In addition to that, I looked online and saw that the Edited Collection should be out any day now. Hopefully winging its way through the mail to me! I still need to work on a piece for my favorite journal, but these other good things help me to build confidence because my article is not a small one, but an encapsulating theory for doing things differently. Some would say that such a young scholar shouldn't sketch out such big ideas, but. . .who cares! That's the other side of my Middle Aged Status: I just want to say to the powers that be: look, I've done it your way and it's never made me happy or made it easier to sleep at night. Now I know what I'm doing. I know the risks. Leave me alone. I'm not sure who I'm saying that to though. Probably my own voice of fear. So, I hope, I'll soon stop wringing my hands and get started on revising the darn thing.

I also did a colleague a favor. While I was happy to do it, especially when Chair came to me looking distinctly uncomfortable and I had the power to make Zie comfortable, I only realized afterward how this favor makes it impossible for me to do some fun things that I might not have done anyway, but at least I would've had the chance. Oh well. I think this is one of those short-term trade-offs for long-term dividends.

Finally, I'm taking a break from Facebook. There are just too many people out there who drive me crazy. I keep thinking that Facebook can be this space, like other aspects of our lives, where we can live our values. And if someone says something stupid or heartless or racist, we can engage them and try to do something about it. Lived activism. But maybe we can and maybe we can't. But I don't have the energy to pour into engaging with these people. Instead of telling you exactly what's going on, I'm going to tell you a story.

~~~Wavy lines. Wavy lines.~~~

In my high school, everyone ate outside in their own little enclaves (except the Band people, who often ate in the band room), rarely mixing groups. But I moved around a lot. I had a group of friends who were the Good Girls, a group of Mormon and other girls who often talked about the details of the soap operas their mothers would record for them. While the Head Mormon Girl and I often clashed on different things, she and I agreed that this was stupid and we rolled our eyes when the girls started up. But I could only take a certain amount of the whole thing, and when I'd had enough I would silently vow that the next day I wasn't coming back to the group. I'd make some excuse for the next day, say I had to do something, but the next day I'd really dash into the lunch area for a bagel, then jet into the library and hide in a cubicle. Sometimes I just needed to be away from people, away from where I could be looked at, from where people would ask what I was thinking, where I could read or stare out into space, or just be. I'd also wander to other groups, often not rejoining the group for weeks or months.

-Dissolve to present.-

That's what I need to do now. I need to admit that I'm no longer interested in hearing from this little group (actually a specific person) and remember that there was a reason why I jetted out of my nice little suburban Republican upper-middle class subdivision just as fast as my little legs could take me. They don't get it. And while I think someone needs to set them straight, I'm not that person. I have students who I have high hopes for. I have a gorgeous son. I'm chronically exhausted because I have to wake up early, and then later I can't fall asleep and just toss and turn. (True quotes from this morning: "I tossed and turned for about an hour last night." "Wow, maybe you have a problem." "Yes, I do. It's called insomnia." You can see what a snarky bitch I am, even to someone who I love and who loves me, in that wretched place called morning.) I've got scholarship to work on. I can't be thinking about how pissed off I am about one idiot's idiocy. (Of course, the real problem is not Facebook or even this person, but that I can't control my mind's propensity to obsess and fret. I think really I'm just mad that I don't have the ready tools and evidence to argue her down, as if since I'm a professor (isn't that nice to say?) I should be able to refute her arguments from memory. But I can't. And I can't control my mind's obsessive nature either. So instead, just get rid of the contraption causing the problem.)

No yoga yet, but I'm close. The first week is always hard.

I'm falling asleep. Well, that's good at least. Good night and happy long weekend full of inspiration to join together and work for social justice!

Theming the Year and Trying to Get to the Truth about Workload

I don't usually do the whole theme-the-year thing that a lot of you do, but this year I think I'll try it. I'm torn between "Health" and "Peace," which roughly amount to the same thing. I want to approach various parts of my life in a healthier or more peaceful way: academic work, parenting, partnering, connecting with others. I want to be less angst-y and recognize that in some cases it really is a choice. Writing my recent short article was a great lesson for me -- instead of metaphorically grinding my teeth and generally working with a great deal of friction, I just got on with it and did it. I didn't panic, didn't worry anxiously that the editors wouldn't like it or that I sucked or anything. I just worked and got it done. I think that this is how I got the dissertation done on my best days, but it's hard to remember that when those days were interspersed with angsty, procrastination-filled days when I couldn't sit still and settle down into the work. That anxiety often gets in my way. And so often it's about the future, which I can't control anyway.

Then there's my actual physical health, by which I mean that I need to get some exercise, especially since I eat pretty well -- probably too much, but I eat tons of veggies due to my winter CSA. I'd also like to get a handle on my finances, which I've got a plan for.

But what I've been thinking about for the last few days is really marking how many hours a day I'm working. I have this general sense that because I only go to campus three days a week (typical for my university with all the commuting professors) I'm not really working enough. And then I have this inferiority complex and try to take on too much. I really do too much service, probably, but most of it is stuff I really believe in so much it would hurt for me to leave it alone. (Some things are using skills and interests that only I have, you see.) But though I was having a really hard time getting my syllabi done when I was sitting in my office last week, I did notice that I had very little problem working on them in the in-between times this weekend. At no point this weekend did I freak out and yell: "Take care of Tot because classes start Monday and I've got to finish my syllabi GAH!!!" Not only did I just get on with it, but I didn't have to sequester myself from AL and Tot to get it done. Now, mostly I got things done when Tot was asleep. I certainly couldn't grade that way. But I also noticed that I was working a LOT of the time. I didn't take a lot of time to relax either. If I were in my office daily, there'd surely be some time when I sat there staring out of the metaphorical (not actual, though perhaps I should put a lovely picture up that I could space out to meditate on) window pondering. But instead my pondering time -- or much of it -- is when I'm doing something else -- like trying to keep Tot from killing himself by jumping off his new toddler bed. (No, he's not sleeping in it. But he likes to climb into it and say he's going "nigh nigh." I still haven't gotten him off sleeping via nursing. I've tried. He's two years old. I'm tired. I have no great excuses here. But at least I'm only torturing myself. And Lover.) So at some important point (I think actually when I started at Specialized U) I started writing down everything I did and accomplished each day (sometimes week), which has proven really helpful come annual report time. But now I think I also want to spend some time focusing on how long I spend as well to see whether my fears of underworking are really founded or not. (Not that academics necessarily have to work 40 hours a week to justify themselves, but that I feel like I do radically under that, except when grading, when the figure jumps up.) It's not that I will necessarily change anything if I do find that I underwork, but I'd like to really know rather than act out of fear. Knowing the truth seems to be the first step to approaching work in a healthier way.

So I may actually keep track of my hours here on the blog. I've already done a lot of work this morning -- proofread 2 syllabi and associated material, emailed them into printing (twice because I was too tired the first time), checked work email several times, written some email back, and done some hmmphing and thinking because this colleague that I'd like to work with on a specific project thinks I want to do something different but because he's having family crises right now it's not a good time to sort it out. How long did I spend on all that? At least two hours. So that's a good start to this.

Happy New Year!!!

Right now, Absurdist Tot is watching his Cookie Monster DVD, totally charmed. Since he woke up with a fever, which made him very toasty when he snuggled in bed next to me but of course is not a good thing, it's a pleasure to see his face break open into a beaming smile even with his watery eyes. This is after he's already gotten one dose of Elmo. My son loves Sesame Street, just like his mother. One of the first songs I sang to him was C is for Cookie, probably not the most brilliant thing to sing a child who you're hoping will eat healthily. Oh well. Consistency and hobgoblins.

Absurdist Lover is sick too and actually taking some really productive steps toward health. And amid the sickness, I feel very optimistic about the new year on many fronts. First, I am committing to doing those things that will make me feel better: namely, exercise. Instead of talking about going to the yoga studio near my house, I'm actually going to go. Exercise makes such a huge difference to my brain and body health that I practically owe it to my family to do it. Yoga especially just makes me feel. . .high. How much of an idiot does one have to be to avoid doing something that feels so good? Just because of a little sweat. The whole pressure to be a good mom also does its number on me. Like many toddlers, Tot is a particular eater, which for him means that he still eats a lot of baby food jars. (At least he eats a bunch of vegetables that way.) He also still falls asleep nursing and goes to bed really late. I feel so behind and bad motherish because I've allowed these things to go on. Most of the time, even AL is itching for me to try to move Tot forward on these fronts, especially the sleeping. But lately AL said not to worry about it, that Tot is fine and will grow out of it. And that's opened up a tiny little ray of grace that maybe these issues do not signal my bad mothering, but just are what they are.

(It's taken at least an hour to compose this post so far. Now Tot is asleep on the couch, which is a marker of just how sick he is.)

So I'm going to exercise. I'm going to try to not beat myself up. I'm going to do other things -- like take my vitamins -- that contribute to a happy, healthy head. I'm going to go to therapy. I also need to find Tot a better pediatrician, because I feel like we're getting drive-through doctoring. He looks at Tot for three seconds, then writes him a prescription. When he's got a cold, okay. I know, the doctor has probably seen the exact same symptoms a dozen times the same week. But when I'm talking about a bump on his penis? No. I need a doctor who will say more than "Don't worry, Mrs. Earnest." I'm also thinking about enrolling Tot and myself in a toddler art class. We need to do fun things when we're together.

I'll be teaching in a week, and I haven't put together my syllabi yet. But I've got some great ideas and revisions to these classes that should jazz up the classes for me and present more involved learning experiences for the students. There are also some little things I'm going to do that to me signal that I've gotten more comfortable at Specialized U. And I'm working on an elective that I'll likely be able to teach in the fall. I'm also one of several people who've been approached about developing a new class that's really right up my alley. So that's exciting.

On the scholarship front, there are good hopeful things too. I'm going to an awesome specialized conference in the spring that will help me further develop my elective and is on a subject I'm completely devoted to. And then there's an awesome workshop in the summer that is in an adjacent field to mine -- I should hear back from them one of these days.

In the past three or so months, I have sent out all my creative work, wrote and sent out a short article, started two groups designed to support my continued writing, and held a successful and very meaningful event. I also worked on our department website, making some changes that I hope improve its overall look and usefulness. That's not bad. I've also managed to get myself excited and hopeful again about teaching.

On personal fronts, I've managed to get on top of our finances, send out Christmas cards to most of my friends, and, with yesterday's strange warm weather after weeks of snow, planted those bulbs in the little patch of grass around our patio. (Yes, even totally missing bulb planting last year, I totally missed prime planting time again this year. But with the wacky warm weather, I figured it might be another chance. I'm not terribly hopeful for the bulbs actually, because the earth doesn't seem particularly fertile and they'll have to make it up through a net of grass, but at least they are in the earth now instead of in a bag or the refrigerator. Maybe next year I'll get them in on time. Maybe next year, we'll be in a house. I've seen some very hopeful looking rent-to-own possibilities here.)

I don't know. I guess taking those vitamins that are especially good for my brain chemistry has really helped. I feel hopeful, even in a house of sickos. Here's to good starts to the year!

Parenting at Christmas

I really appreciate everyone's comments on this, but I'm sick of looking at this post, so

***poof***

Meeting a Deadline

No, this is not yet the self-congratulatory post of having met a deadline. Actually, instead of beating myself up for still working on an article submission on the day it's due, I've decided to be positive -- I will make this deadline. I have before, and I will again today. I worked all day on Friday, despite being sick. I couldn't really get that much done over the weekend, of course. So I have no time to lose in my usual puttering and procrastinating. (I already started toying with template changes, but working to change the blog so I can have a black font will just have to wait for another day. Sorry folks.)

I also have a number of more substantial posts brewing. But I have to focus. I'm writing here what I need to do, because I love that feeling that even though I'm alone in my house, I'm actually working in the context of a lot of other fellow workers. (Yes, I realize that most of you are probably braving the winter roads and overpacked malls to get Christmas shopping done. No, mine is not done, though as usual I'm going to make things for gifts. This year I'm thinking granola.)

So here are the things I have to do to this article:

1. Print it out. DONE!!!
   
2. Read through existing over-long narrative section for main points. DONE!!!
   
3. Restructure over-long narrative section by points. DONE!!!
   
4. Hope to God this takes off about 500 words. NOPE!!! Still over by about 300 words. GAH!!! Ahh, just found I could rid of an endnote that was incredibly long. It was a good one though. Sigh. Oh well.
   
5. Go through the entire piece and see what else can be hacked off. DONE!!!
   
6. Write bib.
7. Update page numbers to second edition of Incredibly Important Main Text. DONE!!!
   
8. Read and revise piece for academic language, making sure that none of the freewriting placeholding blab is still there. DONE!!
   
9. Format for any weird particularities. DONE!!
   
10. Proofread carefully. DONE!!
    
11. Submit. DONE!! (By 3:15pm: oh good, just enough time for me to get cracking on this abstract, then run and get Tot)
    

I also need to write an abstract for a conference today. I have some ideas, but sadly I'm stuck at the "so what? what does this get us?" part.

And I have to get everything done by about 3:45, because I promised the daycare I'd pick him up at 4pm. They have special sign-up holiday hours, and I just hate the idea that some poor young person is going to have to stay late just for me.

While I'm doing this impossible totally doable work, y'all can help me out. What do you get the lead teacher of your daycare? The cute idea I had totally fizzled out. How much do I spend? What kind of thing should it be?

Reflections on the Job, Religion, and My Family of Origin

Hi everyone! First, let me just apologize. I know. . .reading a white font sucks, but I just loved this template and color theme. We'll see how it goes. (I kinda wanted something snowier -- to go with the outrageous snowy outside and my new snowy Firefox theme, but this assemblage of greens, well, I likes it!)

Here's something I want to remember: when I feel hurt or upset about something and just want to withdraw, sometimes the best thing I can do is go engage it! Here's why I say so: not only did I talk to my chair about the lack of electives I get to teach this year and get a good result, but I also held an event on campus that I really believed in. It started small, and I had to fight to keep it high-touch and deep rather than let it get industrialized (which might have made more "product," but would not have been a deep experience for participants), but it went better than I expected. A couple students thanked me for having it as they were exiting. Knowing that I brought something to campus that even a few people think is valuable and interesting makes much of the swimming against the tide worthwhile. Lesson learned: doing something I think is valuable makes me feel good. It boosts my morale.

I want to tell you about these realizations I've been having about my family of origin, but in order for all that to make sense, I have to back up and tell you about church. I'm Jewish and naturally skeptical about God. My father is proud of describing himself as someone who actively disbelieves in God. My mother is a seeker, one of those people who has explored religion after religion, converting to Judaism, but then exploring other things after that. I have also explored religious and spiritual traditions, feeling that Taoism makes the most sense, not that I'm good at all at going with the flow, which is pretty literally what Taoism is about. Judaism is also really important to me. I love Jewish culture and traditions. I felt bad this year until I bought a menorah for Chanukah, though I didn't light it each night. I'm proud of my Jewish background and think that there are some things that are fundamentally Jewish. But do I *believe* in the Old Testament G-d as the truth? Nope. Do I even want to *try* to believe in the Old Testament G-d as truth? Not really. I wish I had faith, have always sort of envied people of faith, am fascinated by nuns and monks and Haredi who reject our materialistic and competitive world for better values. But faith in an organized religion doesn't come naturally to me.

On the other hand, I've immersed myself in academic skepticism and found it wanting. Being a critical thinker all the time doesn't make me happy. Believing in only the material world doesn't explain or make room for the sense of awe and wonder which genuinely seems part of our world, at least the more natural parts of it. I believe that humans don't know all there is to know about this world, that just as there's light that we can't see (ultraviolet) and sounds we can't hear (dog whistle), there are energies that are just as real that our hubristic and materialist explanation of things just doesn't include or make room for. I *believe* in this, even while I also think that there are good reasons to believe it. (The history of science, which I was lucky to take as an undergrad, shows a long history of people knowing one thing to be true, then having that knowledge overturned by a new discovery. What this means to me is that while science may ultimately be progressing, we could very well be sitting right in the middle of some big scientific errors that people will laugh about generations hence.)

Since logocentrism doesn't work for me, I've been trying something else. While I grew up with the notion that those "crazy Christians" aren't very smart, many of the Christian students I've met over the years are, and what's more, they're good people with good values who do worthwhile things. Not all of them, of course. I remember some Christian students who tormented themselves and their loved ones with scriptural dogma rather than love and acceptance. Some things, like being anti-masturbation, seem to go against human nature in a way that can be seriously detrimental to all, I think.

But for a variety of reasons -- including my own curiosity and need for community -- Absurdist Family has been exploring a church. And in general it's been good. I love this pastor's sermons. Maybe I'm susceptible to a message that says that even though I'm a total fuck-up, God loves me and thinks I'm okay. Maybe I'm susceptible to such a message because of my fucked-up childhood, where even though unconditional love and acceptance was occasionally said, it was contradicted by action as well as words on a regular basis. But get Christ into the mix with all that dying for my sins and my needing to accept Christ as my lord and savior in order to get into heaven, and I check out. Out the door. But, this pastor doesn't focus on that. He says: if God is with you now, why wouldn't he want to be with you after you're dead. And the truth is, the pastor says, God is with you, with every one of us no matter what our religion. I don't know if I *believe* it, but I can see the use in believing it, in trying to believe that someone who loves me is with me in the dark times, of which there are many because, as we all know, parenting, living, working, trying to live in partnership with others, trying to do the right thing and waiting long enough to figure out what that is without self-destructing, etc. are really fucking hard.

Having written this, I find I think I'm a little crazy. I was greatly confused for a long time when I realized there were religious people in the academy. I thought those people must be a little crazy. And now here I am, a little crazy. But that's okay, I think. I can deal with a contemplative tradition (which I often can't find in the Jewish world, except in places with a high saturation of Jews).

So, jumping into the deep end of the pool, AL and I joined a small group at this church. And the group's focus was (it's over now) on the intersection between emotional and spiritual issues. One week was focused on messages we got from our family of origin. And now we catch up with what I really wanted to say, though I've long wanted to post all this church stuff, since I know many of you are much smarter about religion and church stuff than I am.

Here's something I realized was very true even though it was originally a throw-away comment to AL: I spend too much time and energy on my family of origin and not enough time and energy on the people who love me. I don't mean AL and Tot, who are my life now. But when we were back in Urban City, folks from Grad City sent me two boxes worth of gifts for Tot, even though I'm notoriously bad at remembering other people's showers and birthdays. These people care about me anyway, despite some really seriously faults at showing them how much I care. (Let's not even talk about the fact that I still haven't sent thank you notes, of which I'm deeply ashamed. Though even after two years, I still mean to.)

Instead of making sure to keep in touch with these people, who've obviously forgiven my faults time and time again, I spend a lot of mental energy being disappointed in my family of origin. It's as if they have to take up a certain mental space in my life even though they're not really in my life. I don't want to be disappointed in them. I realize that it's just who they are, but still, the way they are is just no way to be, at least for me. I managed to get very tense right around Tot's birthday, because I was paying attention to who remembered and who didn't. That is my problem. But my father texted me for Tot's birthday. Texted. Nice to know he didn't forget, and of course he sent a present, but he's not interested in seeing what Tot looks like or checking in or anything -- and for his lack of interest in Tot, I just cannot forgive him. I know my father is who he is -- one of those people controlled and overwhelmed by what is in front of him. And we're not. But my son is a treasure and has never borrowed money and not paid it back. He needs a grandpa. And my father is just not it. My father doesn't answer my emails in general and did not respond when I recently sent him a picture of Tot. At least I'm doing what I think is right. My mom is also a piece of work, frankly. Right now, I think she's giving me the silent treatment for reasons I can guess but have not been told. Not only is the behavior just totally ridiculous and infantile, but it's not deserved, if the reason I'm thinking of is the right reason. I know everyone complains about their parents (at least everyone in places like Urban City), but AL affirms that I'm not insane -- these people really are pretty awful. At the small group, we could see very clearly how most other participants really had no basis for comparison (not that I talked about it much, but most talked about their wonderful relationships with their families).

Now I'm staring down my own birthday. I should make sure my phone has plenty of money on it to accept their texts! Okay, that was bitter. But if I want love and acceptance (which is obviously a hole that no person can fill up), my family ain't it. Don't get me wrong -- my family has been good to me at times when I really needed it. But I'm still paying for that time, for those decisions. But there are these people who care about me even from a distance. Surely, I should be spending more time showing them how much I care and less on thinking about how my family of origin sucks. Instead of thinking about how much my family of origin sucks, I should thank God, heaven, or my lucky stars that I'm out from under my family enough to be able to see that they, probably through no meanness, are not good for me. And I need to have the mental discipline enough to turn my focus to things I like and can do something significant about, rather than just getting whatever it is I get out of (playing the victim, which is way too simple) opening myself up to being disappointed by them. That said, I know also that this is something significant I need to mourn -- and I'm going to feel bad about it until I stop feeling bad about it. But I think I need an outlet to explore how deep the rabbit hole goes instead of thinking about it now, when I should be working on an article with a deadline!

By the way, I never got to therapy or yoga. These are goals for January now.