Random Updates

It occurred to me that most of my recent posts have been about C's job search. It also occurred to me that there have been other things going on in our lives that I want to write about. Here is a random assortment of happenings.

• Wild Man has become very interested in the potty. To encourage his interest we bought him a potty, and he sits on it every day before his evening bath. Several times he has actually peed in it. I don't think he is intentionally peeing in the potty, but he does seem to understand that is what the potty is for. Every time he does is C and I get very, very excited and give him lots of praise. And every time he looks at us as though we're completely crazy.
• Wild Man has taken to calling me "Daddy" lately, and I'm not sure why. If C tells him, "take this to Mommy" he comes right to me, but he hasn't called me "Mommy" or "Mama" in weeks. He still calls C "Daddy" though, so I guess we have the same name. I wonder if this has anything to do with all of C's recent trips.
• I am going to a conference in 2 weeks, and I'm equally excited and nervous. I'm excited to get feedback on this chapter which is an edited down version of my Wharton chapter, but I'm nervous to be away from Wild Man for so long. I will be gone for just over 48 hours, but I've never been away from him for longer than 8 hours. I also have to take my breast pump with me since Wild Man is still nursing in the evenings. I haven't pumped in months, so I'm so not excited about pumping, even only twice.
• I think I've finally figured out how to approach the current chapter I'm working on. In all honesty, I've been so preoccupied with C's job search that I haven't gotten a great deal of work done in the past few weeks. This week, however, I forced myself to write something. I also spatially mapped out the novel, something I did with The House of Mirth and found to be very helpful. Determining the spatial location of every scene in the novel helped me solidify my argument about the main character's relationship with space, both metaphorical and literal.
• I'm coming to terms with the reality that we may well be moving in a few months. I don't necessarily want to leave the small College Town we've come to think of as home, but I keep reminding myself that we knew this when we moved here--our time here was always going to be limited.
  

Waiting

C is home from Canada, and this is, he has openly declared, the job he wants. A great school, a great community, a great salary, a great everything. Now we just have to wait for the department to interview two other people and hope that they make C an offer. In the mean time he has two other on campus interviews with schools we're only lukewarm about. That makes a total of 5 on campus interviews so far. Really we're just hoping he gets one offer. Did I mention that by the time this process is over he will have been out of town 5 weeks out of 6? Oh, and the week he's home I'm out of town.

I'm would still be an American

So C is interviewing at a school in Canada. In fact, he is there right now, and in all honesty, this is the job we're the most interested in for a variety of reasons. But I've gotten a number of questions from various people about what it would mean for us to move to Canada. For us, it would mean a job, a cool community, and a place to live. I feel like people think a potential move to Canada correlates to some sort of political statement on our part. In fact, one good friend (who was half-joking) said "What are you just tired of being American?" Several people have point-blank asked if we would give up our citizenship, to which I have not so tactfully responded "What in the heck are you talking about?" I don't understand these sorts of questions. Yes, I am vocally unhappy with the current political climate of this country, but I have never made any statements suggesting I would renounce my citizenship--although I have repeatedly said I would move out of the U.S. if Roe v. Wade were ever overturned. I get that most of the questions are polite small-talk asked by people curious about our potential life-choices, but some people have blatantly said "Why would you want to leave America?" I mean it isn't as if we're contemplating a move to Pakistan. It is Canada, a country that isn't so different from our own (except it is generally more liberal). It isn't as though we're thinking of packing Wild Man up and moving to the Wilds of Borneo.

Congrats to Kate and Noodle!

My dear blog-o-sphere friend Kate, of a k8 a cat a mission, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl yesterday, who has been affectionately dubbed Noodle. Congratulations Kate, TD, and Noodle! C, Wild Man, and I are so, so happy for you all. I am especially glad you had the medication free birth you so desired--and worked hard for!

Home

Well C made it home around 2:00 am on Wednesday morning. He managed to make it safely into the nearest big airport, although not to our smallish College Town. He did manage to catch the last shuttle between Big City Airport and our College Town, which meant he got home sooner rather than later. Wild Man was happy to see him, but he has expressed some displeasure with C. Several times yesterday while they were playing Wild Man randomly took his toys away from C and told him "No, no!" He also would not allow C to hug me or kiss me; any time he saw C trying to do either, he ran over to us and smacked C or pushed us apart. Wild Man seems to be punishing C for his frequent absences. It will be interesting to see how his behavior changes in the next weeks, as C has three more interviews in the upcoming weeks.

For now, we're happy to have our family altogether for a while.

Stuck in Pacific Northwest

At some point in the past year, C must have supremely pissed off the Travel Gods. Every time he has traveled in the past year he has been delayed. The last trip to the Midwest was relatively uneventful, although his flight to our Home State was delayed by 2 hours, which meant that he didn't get home until well after Wild Man was asleep. So far today, his flight into Home State has been canceled, he has been rebooked on a different airline, and his new flight has been delayed. His flight into Home State is so backed up that he will miss the last flight into our small college town, which means he won't get home until sometime tomorrow morning (unless he decides to spend the money to rent a car, which would put him home around 2:00 this morning). That means that he has to cancel another day of classes (thus far, he has had to cancel about three weeks worth of classes because of on-campus interviews, something he hasn't felt much guilt about given the way his current institution has treated him as of late). Even though he wouldn't have gotten home until well after Wild Man was asleep this evening, he would have been home tonight. He could have seen Wild Man tomorrow morning, albeit briefly, as he would have had to go teach. C had already planned to pick Wild Man up early and spend some Daddy-son time together. C and I could have had some time together this evening to discuss his interview and the upcoming trip--or my work, which we haven't had much time to discuss recently.

Instead it will be just Wild Man and me for another evening.

Chili and Blueberries

Wild Man and I had chili for dinner, and he had frozen blueberries for dessert. He wants all of our friends to know that chili and blueberries make a very nice shampoo.

Without Daddy

C has already made one trip for an on-campus visit, and he is currently on his second trip. Next week makes trip number three, and he has a fourth one in mid-April (although we're not as excited about this school so if he gets an offer we like before that trip he may not go on that interview). Life without C is always a bit hard for me. Even after almost 8 years of marriage, I still get upset when he leaves even for short trips like these. I blame it on the fact that we had a long distance relationship for 2 1/2 years while we were dating. He lived in the Southwest while I lived in New England; we were both working on our MAs, and although we talked every day, we would only see each other every few months. There were many tearful good-byes at airports for us before we were married. I remember those moments when he has to go out of town even now.

I, of course, no longer have the luxury of indulging myself in a cry when I'm missing my out-of-town husband as I now have to keep Wild Man occupied and distracted. And he has certainly missed his father. Yesterday we dropped C off at the airport, and on the way there, Wild Man fell asleep in the car. He slept through me carrying him into the house, so when he woke up, he realized Daddy was not around. He gave the house a thorough search for him, but soon realized that Daddy was not around. We ended up going to a friend's house so I could keep him distracted from C's absence. It seems we're both having a hard time without C around. I anticipate that this afternoon, once I pick Wild Man up from school, Wild Man will search the house for Daddy again, and my explanation that "Daddy had to go to work" will not be any more comforting than it was yesterday.

I am Paula Blood

That's right, friends, my rock star name would be Paula Blood. My pop star name would be Monique Bell, and my rap name would be Ms. Delfin0. And here is the rundown for Wild Man and C.

C
Rock Star: Gene McFaddon
Pop Star: Evan London
Rap Star: Flava Man

Wild Man
Rock Star: Brett McFaddon
Pop Star: Brian London
Rap Star: Black Man

Apparently C and Wild Man are father and son even in the music world. What are your musical names?

An update on C's job search

In the two weeks since the big conference, C has been a busy guy, making us a busy family. He currently has three on-campus interviews, and several of the schools he initially interviewed with indicated that they wouldn't be making decisions about who to bring on-campus until late-March. We're excited about one of the schools he already has an interview with, and we could be excited about another. The third school isn't so exciting because, in a lot of ways, he would still be doing what he is doing know just in a tenure-track position, which is attractive in itself. We're still hoping he gets interviews with 3 other schools that he is really interested in--both because of location and because of their programs. Now we're just waiting, which sucks.

Wild Man goes to the caucus

After going with me to vote in the primary yesterday afternoon, last night Wild Man joined C and I as we caucused in our Home State. This was a risky adventure as the caucus took place right in the middle of his bedtime, but he cooperated, allowing his parents to take part in the democratic process. I wrote about this experience in more depth at The Rhetorical Situation. I do want to say that I did not find the caucus experience particularly family friendly. Although there were lots of families at our precinct (I counted at least 10 kids under the age of 8, and 5 of those were toddlers like Wild Man), the poll workers were not particularly friendly to our situation. Although I was finally able to ascertain that we did not have to stay for the entire 2 plus hours, no one seemed to care that we had a child who clearly would rather have been in bed than in a church courtyard at 7:45 pm. I don't think this particular tradition adds to the democratic process as it severely limits the number of people who are able to participate. This is a seriously flawed system, and someone needs to figure out how to fix it.

C did, however, remind me that this is the second time that Wild Man has been with us when we voted: he joined us in November 2006 when he was just a few weeks old.

Sex and the City

HOORAY!! Finally the theatrical trail for the upcoming Sex and the City movie is out! I am so excited about this movie that I have already made plans to see it on May 30th.

The Mount

The Mount, Edith Wharton's home in Lenox, MA, is facing foreclosure. This makes me sad and angry. Sad because this home represents something that most women of the 19th century (and a lot of the 20th century) didn't have: a home of their own. I don't mean to sound trite, but The Mount was the ideal space for Wharton that Virginia Woolf called for all women (ok, not all women; Woolf is fairly limited) to have in order to develop an independent identity. And Wharton had it some 20 years before Woolf wrote about it. This article in the NY Times discusses the foreclosure in detail. This makes me angry from the perspective of someone who worked for a non-profit for three years. Let me first say that I know nothing about the way The Mount has been managed, its donors, its board, or the details of its debt. From my own experience, I do know that this sort of debt for a non-profit generally comes from mismanagement--at not necessarily only by those who run the day to day operations, but from the board. I think Edith Wharton Restoration made a good decision when it began restructuring its board a few years ago to include people who had experience in the business world, although perhaps that decision was made to late. It seems to me that non-profits are too often run by good meaning people who don't actually have much business sense or experience, which can often cause these good meaning people to make poor and uninformed decisions about the financial future of the organization they support.

Regardless of my feelings on the mismanagement of non-profits, The Mount is a place worth saving.

Angry

Here's another one that can be filed under "What the hell are people thinking?" This article on rape--or rather how feminists cry rape too often--made me so angry that I still haven't been able to read the entire thing. As if feminists want women to get raped because is supports our argument that women don't receive equal treatment in this country--or most other countries. What disturbs me the most is that this article is written by a woman. She is entitled to her opinion and I will fight for her right to voice her opinion, however misguided it may be. But that she actually thinks her fellow women would cry rape like the little boy who cried wolf shows me that she herself has never been the victim of an inappropriate sexual overture and that she has never had a friend knock on her the door of her dorm room at 3 am, sobbing that her "date" didn't take her saying "no" over and over again seriously. I'm equally troubled that she can't imagine such a thing happening to another woman.

Too much space

When I read today's strip of "For Better or For Worse," I laughed out loud because the idea that a person can have too much personal space directly contradicts everything I'm trying to say in my dissertation.

Looking for Daddy

Wild Man is seriously missing his daddy. He's not missing him so much that he is sobbing or anything like that, but he is randomly shouting out "Dada" and saying to me "Dada?" as if to say, "Where is my father, and when will he be home?" This morning when he woke up (it was a rough night for my teething tyke, and he ended up sleeping with me just so we could get some sleep), he pulled the covers back on C's side of the bed and said "Dada?" I think he was actually expecting to find C under the covers. Thankfully C will be home tonight, although not until after Wild Man goes to bed. I know one little boy who will be very happy to see his daddy tomorrow morning.

Missing my boy

I always miss Wild Man on Thursdays as I am on campus from 9:00 until 6:00 (I teach, do research, and take a class in the late afternoon). On an average Thursday, however, C picks Wild Man up at the usual time, and they have a daddy-son afternoon. By the time I get home around 6:20 or so, C is scrubbing the remainder of their daddy-son afternoon off of Wild Man as Wild Man splashes around in the bathtub (in our house, daddy-son afternoons always equal dirt and lots of it!). This afternoon C is out of town, and since I didn't want to miss my class, I asked a good friend to pick Wild Man up at school when he picked up his daughter and take Wild Man home with them for the afternoon. This friend generously agreed to do this for us, and I am very thankful. I know that Wild Man is in great hands and that he is having a blast with his buddy. In fact, when I explained to him that he would be going home with this particular friend he immediately began chanting her name and searching for her in our house, as if she would magically appear just because he was calling her name. But this is the first time someone other than C or me has ever picked him up from school, and that makes me a little sad. I'm counting the minutes till my class is over, and I can go get him and give him lots of hugs and kisses.

Thanks Kate!

Kate, at a k8, a cat, a mission, has named my blog an excellent blog! Thanks, Kate!

In honor of Kate honoring me, I want to bestow a few "Es" of my own.

To Lilian at Mama(e) in Translation who offers inspiring stories about her life and thoughtful commentary on life in general.

To Professing Mama who offers great insight into motherhood and academia.

To AcadeMama who is balancing being a mother and a graduate student in a way I admire.

And to my fellow bloggers at The Rhetorical Situation, who always get me thinking.

On his way

C left this morning to attend his field's version of MLA. Between this afternoon and Friday afternoon, he will interview with various schools. I'm feeling a bit strange about this whole process. Last year, we assumed that C, although he did have a few interviews including an on-campus visit, would not get a job because he wasn't finished with the doctorate when he went on the market. Now it seems (emphasis on seems; I don't want to put the cart before the horse, as my mother would say) that he has a really good chance of getting a tenure track position. I feel excited for him--he definitely deserves such a job--and our family--it will improve our lives a lot, at least financially.

But personally, I am feeling a bit ambivalent. If we move in the fall, my life will change dramatically for a lot of reasons, and I am not exaggerating. The move, although for the benefit of our family, will be largely about C, and while I'm ok with that, I am also wary of my own reaction and feelings once we move. I've made a similar move before when we were first married. I moved with C to the mid-sized Northeast University that treated him terribly. For the first year there, I was miserable, so miserable that I started having panic attacks and ended up in therapy (I am oversimplifying for the purposes of the blog, as the move did not cause the panic attacks and therapy was a good thing). I know what it feels like to be in a place where you have no friends and few options for making them, and I am wary of that. Secretly (well, not so secret anymore) I hope he gets a position at one of the schools that would put us close to good friends. I know myself well enough to know that I will do better in a new situation if I have a support system close by. But then, I also know myself well enough to know that I will make the best of any situation. Here's hoping his interviews go well and that Wild Man doesn't miss him too much.

**Because I've been questioned about this issue before, I want to add this post-script. While I do acknowledge that I am giving up some things (i.e. opportunities for funding and teaching) if C gets a position, I do not feel like I am making any major sacrifices for him. I am not putting his career before mine. Rather the way circumstances have worked out, he is in a position to start his career first, and as we're a family, we have to make the decision that is the best for our family. I am fully aware that I will experience a slowdown if we do move, but C experienced the same thing when we left the Northeast for the Southwest when I began my ph.d. I'm not worried about my career, my dissertation, or my work. I'm worried about being lonely.

Vulnerable

I've been thinking a lot about the shootings at Northern Illinois University. C and I had a long talk over the weekend about how vulnerable we are as teachers. He is particularly frustrated by his university's refusal to install a phone in the large lecture hall where he routinely teaches. His desire for such a phone isn't only because of the recent shootings. Because of the way the building is constructed, cell phones often don't work in the lecture hall. He has had to break up at least one fight (between an dating couple) and has had one student pass out in class. Without a phone he has no way to contact his department's office, campus security, or emergency services. He was particularly frustrated by this the day his student passed out, as he knew she was battling cancer and likely needed to get to the hospital quickly. The point is that he has repeatedly asked for a phone to be installed in this particular room, and he has repeatedly been told that the department doesn't have the resources to do so. If someone (heaven forbid) decided to attack this classroom, he would have no way to contact anyone if his and his students' cell phones weren't working, which is quite likely. Given the size of this room and the fact that there is no rear entrance or exit, he is feeling a bit vulnerable.

I hadn't felt a similar vulnerability until I realized that the classroom I'm teaching in this semester leaves me and my students vulnerable to a similar attack. I'm teaching in a small room, made to seat about 30 students. There are no other classrooms near mine. The door, which I typically leave open, is at the back of the room, and I can see anyone enter or exit. My students' desks are bolted to the floor, so if anyone did come in blazing a gun, my students have nowhere to hide. This all occurred to me today as we discussed Frances Harper's poetry. I seriously contemplated shutting and locking the door from the inside, but I didn't. After class, as I left the building, I also realized that I don't know where the fire exits are (I've never taught in this building before). Thursday morning, I think I will do a little exploring and make myself more familiar with my surroundings so that I feel a little less vulnerable.

Ultimately though, while I do think it is a good idea that I do this, I'm sad that on the first day of every semester, I will now determine how to quickly exit a classroom and how my students can protect themselves should I ever be in similar situation.