I am a small breasted woman. In fact, I only have cleavage when I'm pregnant or first breast feeding. I've been nursing George for well over a year now, so my breasts are back to their normal size. I'm at the point where I no longer need breast pads, nor does my breast size fluctuate throughout the day. George generally only nurses in the evening and perhaps once during the night, so I'm not producing a lot of milk. Given that, I'm ready to stop wearing nursing bras, even if I'm not ready to wean him yet. I last bought bras when I was pregnant, so I don't have any bras that fit. Friday I went shopping. My demands are pretty simple. I wanted to buy three or four bras, in my size, that will give me some lift and a bit of coverage. In all honesty, I want bras that prevent my students and my colleagues from seeing my nipples. In my mind, that seems like a fairly simple desire.
As I tried bras on, it became clear that I am now almost a full cup size smaller than I was before I started nursing George. (As an aside that means I've lost almost two cup sizes since Wild Man was born). I now wear a Double A, for those of you who are interested. I quickly discovered that I could buy any bra I wanted in any size from 34B to 42DD. But the Double A is elusive. The sales person at one lingerie store told me it's easier to go to a specialty store to buy bras in Es, Fs, or Gs (for which I am well aware women have to pay exorbitant prices) than it is to buy Double As. I was advised to order them online. But I want to try them on first, I explained. She suggested I go to the girls' department. Needless I left the store.
*And before anyone suggests it, I did try on my "sister size," which is apparently a size smaller in width, but a cup larger. That size didn't fit very well.
Monday, October 07, 2013
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
An Event
This weekend we had our children baptized. The ceremony was for all three of them, which made it both chaotic and incredibly special. I'm still trying to process everything associated with the baptism, including our decision to do it as well as my reaction to it. I think I'll be writing about this again. For now I want to say that I am generally fairly ambivalent about religious ceremonies. For reasons I don't completely understand I was deeply touched by this ceremony, both by the number of friends and family who attended the ceremony and by the reaction of our church community. I didn't expect to feel anything more than moderately happy that we'd formally introduced our family to the church we've joined. It was more than that, though. I can't put it into words just yet, but it was important and good and uplifting. I went to bed on Sunday feeling as though we'd done something really significant for our children. What that is remains to be seen, but I'm really happy that we made the decision to have them baptized.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Something new
I just volunteered to teach Church School two Sundays this fall, which is something I never thought I would do. I do have an ulterior motive. Bear refuses to go to Church School, preferring to sit with Archer and I and "listen" to the service. I volunteered to teach his age group in the hopes of encouraging him to participate in the activities for the children.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Getting there
I am getting there. This schedule is starting to feel routine. I'm starting to adjust to our new normal, as it were. We're also starting to figure out how this schedule is affecting each of us.
For example, Bear has adjusted to JK wonderfully; in fact, his teacher told me that he has adjusted better than some of the kids who are now in SK. He is, however, a crabby, cranky mess the first 45 minutes he is home from school. This can wreak havoc on the afternoon. We're starting to figure out, though, that he needs some time to decompress. So, we've been letting him have some quiet time to himself when he first gets home. Some days he colors, some days he paints, some days he looks at books by himself. After about 30 minutes, he is back to his usual happy self.
As for me, I am relying a lot on our schedule. I work when the boys are at school. I focus on being with them when we're home together. Archer and I are squeezing in moments together in between everything. I won't lie; it's been tough. It's chaotic, and the evenings and afternoons are often frenetic. We get home, we unpack, we play for a while, then we do homework, we practice music, and we make dinner. After dinner we have bath, storytime, and bed. Archer and I often manage to squeeze in a few moments of work after all three boys are asleep, or we just hang out together before falling asleep and starting all over again.
For example, Bear has adjusted to JK wonderfully; in fact, his teacher told me that he has adjusted better than some of the kids who are now in SK. He is, however, a crabby, cranky mess the first 45 minutes he is home from school. This can wreak havoc on the afternoon. We're starting to figure out, though, that he needs some time to decompress. So, we've been letting him have some quiet time to himself when he first gets home. Some days he colors, some days he paints, some days he looks at books by himself. After about 30 minutes, he is back to his usual happy self.
As for me, I am relying a lot on our schedule. I work when the boys are at school. I focus on being with them when we're home together. Archer and I are squeezing in moments together in between everything. I won't lie; it's been tough. It's chaotic, and the evenings and afternoons are often frenetic. We get home, we unpack, we play for a while, then we do homework, we practice music, and we make dinner. After dinner we have bath, storytime, and bed. Archer and I often manage to squeeze in a few moments of work after all three boys are asleep, or we just hang out together before falling asleep and starting all over again.
Monday, September 23, 2013
No, we don't . . .
have after school care, I have said at least 200 times since school began. And then I think to myself, "Not that it is any of your damn business." Inevitably, I get a look of astonishment, followed by, "Oh, okay, I guess we'll have to make meetings work around that schedule." And I respond, "Yes, I guess we will, or else I'll just have to miss the meeting."
So no, we don't have after school care for Wild Man and Bear. Actually, we only have it two days a week. Those two days a former student of mine brings them home from school and stays with them until we get home. Mondays I work from home, so Archer gets to stay a bit later at his office. Fridays Archer works from home, so I get to stay a bit later at my office. We did this for several reasons. First, we're paying for full-time childcare for George. Adding in the cost of after school care for Wild Man and Bear was more than our budget could take, or more accurately, it was more than we were willing for our budget to take. Second, we're in the habit of picking our children up by 4:15 or 4:30, which means we'd be paying roughly $280 per child per month (for a total of $560 per month) for about forty-five minutes of care per day. That didn't make sense. This is a schedule/arrangement that works for us. And if one more person asks me about it, I am likely to lose my cool.
As an aside, my colleagues who don't have children (or who have grown children) seem to get this decision. It's the colleagues who have children the same age as Wild Man and Bear who are the most judgmental. I am struggling to understand that.
So no, we don't have after school care for Wild Man and Bear. Actually, we only have it two days a week. Those two days a former student of mine brings them home from school and stays with them until we get home. Mondays I work from home, so Archer gets to stay a bit later at his office. Fridays Archer works from home, so I get to stay a bit later at my office. We did this for several reasons. First, we're paying for full-time childcare for George. Adding in the cost of after school care for Wild Man and Bear was more than our budget could take, or more accurately, it was more than we were willing for our budget to take. Second, we're in the habit of picking our children up by 4:15 or 4:30, which means we'd be paying roughly $280 per child per month (for a total of $560 per month) for about forty-five minutes of care per day. That didn't make sense. This is a schedule/arrangement that works for us. And if one more person asks me about it, I am likely to lose my cool.
As an aside, my colleagues who don't have children (or who have grown children) seem to get this decision. It's the colleagues who have children the same age as Wild Man and Bear who are the most judgmental. I am struggling to understand that.
Monday, September 16, 2013
One day at a time
As I've been writing, I am having a hard time transitioning back to full time work. In some ways, it seems odd for me to write that. I never stopped working. While on mat leave with George, I wrote 2 conference papers, attended 2 conferences, wrote an essay for an anthology, co-edited said anthology, and co-wrote introduction for said anthology. I submitted the anthology to a publisher, along with two colleagues, and said anthology is now under contract with a reputable academic press. I devised a project and wrote a grant for said project, which was funded. I did a lot while I was on mat leave. But I wasn't teaching. I wasn't going to meetings, which seem endless this time of year. I wasn't answering student emails. I wasn't doing a lot of things that I'm doing now. I feel like there isn't enough time in the day to be the kind of academic, the kind of mother, and the kind of partner to Archer that I want to be.
Here is where I'm supposed to write something pithy about finding balance. Well, I happen to think balance is bullshit. I do. It is impossible to achieve any sort of balance. Things fall through the cracks. It just happens. I do--Archer and I do the best we can. We try to make sure we talk to each other for 5 minutes a day. We try to find 5 minutes a day for each kid. We try not to go crazy because the house is a wreck. We try to focus on the fact that we're doing well in our jobs and that our kids are happy and healthy. I, especially, try to focus on that. I'm still struggling. I expect I will continue to struggle until this routine feels normal, whatever that means. In the mean time, I'm not worried about balance. I'm taking things one day at a time.
Here is where I'm supposed to write something pithy about finding balance. Well, I happen to think balance is bullshit. I do. It is impossible to achieve any sort of balance. Things fall through the cracks. It just happens. I do--Archer and I do the best we can. We try to make sure we talk to each other for 5 minutes a day. We try to find 5 minutes a day for each kid. We try not to go crazy because the house is a wreck. We try to focus on the fact that we're doing well in our jobs and that our kids are happy and healthy. I, especially, try to focus on that. I'm still struggling. I expect I will continue to struggle until this routine feels normal, whatever that means. In the mean time, I'm not worried about balance. I'm taking things one day at a time.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
My First Day
My first day of class was this week. I am happy to say it went well. I made a few mistakes--you know, unnoticed typos on syllabi--but overall, it went well. I even managed to get my students talking, which was exciting. I enjoy teaching, and I'm happy in the classroom. It felt good to get back to doing something I love. I didn't, however, get home until 7 pm (I teach a late afternoon class), which is the boys' bedtime. I got about 15 minutes with my children in a 20 hour period, which was hard. They didn't seem to mind, but I did. Given my teaching schedule there isn't much I can do about that. I have, however, already requested a different schedule for next year. I can--and will--be a team player and will happily teach the occasional late-afternoon or evening class, but I won't do it when my kids are this little. I just won't. People can judge me all they want to, as I'm sure they will, but I won't do it.
Personal, Professional
I am officially back at work, as I've written about extensively. I am also officially back in the classroom. This has had profound affects on me personally and professionally.
Professionally, I'm happy. I have taught this week (for the first time in 16 months), and I enjoyed it. I love teaching, and I know I'm good at it. I like getting students interested, and I am able to get them to respond to things they may not otherwise respond to. I am happy with the content of my classes, and I can already tell that most of my students are genuinely interested in the material and will be open to discussion. I am also getting research and writing done, which makes me really happy. It's slow, as writing often is, but it's happening.
Personally, I'm struggling a bit. George started child care full time last week; he now goes every weekday. He enjoys it, and he is doing well in his class. I found it really hard not to have a great deal of one on one time with him, though. I had to sneak in quiet minutes with each of the boys, actually, and that was hard to do. I managed, but given the nature of our weekly schedule, I don't get big chunks of time with each of them as I did while I was on leave. I am finding the transition of the full-time work groove to be more difficult than I anticipated. I've cried every day this week about how the days have gone from fairly relaxed with lots of time to get necessary tasks accomplished to schedule driven. It's more difficult than I anticipated. I am, however, following the advice of a dear friend and giving it time. I'm trying to keep my expectations realistic and to not judge myself for being upset. I'm not so good at either of those things.
Professionally, I'm happy. I have taught this week (for the first time in 16 months), and I enjoyed it. I love teaching, and I know I'm good at it. I like getting students interested, and I am able to get them to respond to things they may not otherwise respond to. I am happy with the content of my classes, and I can already tell that most of my students are genuinely interested in the material and will be open to discussion. I am also getting research and writing done, which makes me really happy. It's slow, as writing often is, but it's happening.
Personally, I'm struggling a bit. George started child care full time last week; he now goes every weekday. He enjoys it, and he is doing well in his class. I found it really hard not to have a great deal of one on one time with him, though. I had to sneak in quiet minutes with each of the boys, actually, and that was hard to do. I managed, but given the nature of our weekly schedule, I don't get big chunks of time with each of them as I did while I was on leave. I am finding the transition of the full-time work groove to be more difficult than I anticipated. I've cried every day this week about how the days have gone from fairly relaxed with lots of time to get necessary tasks accomplished to schedule driven. It's more difficult than I anticipated. I am, however, following the advice of a dear friend and giving it time. I'm trying to keep my expectations realistic and to not judge myself for being upset. I'm not so good at either of those things.
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Chaos
Today marks the first day of what will be a chaotic year for us. With
all three boys in different schools, Archer and I will be constantly
checking our calendars and communicating about who is getting which
child when. We've worked out a schedule, but we're both sacrificing
quite a bit of time at the office to forgo the cost of after school care
for Bear and Wild Man. We'll both end up doing a lot of class prep
after the boys are asleep, and we'll likely have to find some time on
the weekends. We'll manage though, and we're both happy with our
decision.
First Day, Part 2
This morning Archer and I took Bear to his first day of Junior Kindergarten. He was nervous, so nervous that he refused to look at the camera when we tried to take a picture of him in his first day outfit. He didn't, however, cry. He was quiet and a bit withdrawn, but he did what we asked him. He put his backpack where his teacher told him, and he stood in line quietly. He did give us each about 5 hugs and kisses, but there was no drama. I won't go so far as to say he was happy, but he was prepared. He knew what was coming, and he did what we needed him to do without complaint. I managed to not cry in front of him (thank goodness for sunglasses!).
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Students
I rarely complain about students en masse. I generally like students, and I like my job a lot. I do complain about specific students (who doesn't?), on occasion, and I most certainly complain about grading. I feel it necessary to include this preface to what is about to follow.
Students have returned to CU this week, even though classes don't start till next week. The freshman are going through orientation and lots of other students are here to get prepared for class. That's fine. They do belong here, after all. I can deal with their noise, and I can deal with the traffic and congestion on campus that they cause. I cannot, however, deal with their mess.
I was on campus a lot this summer, and my oldest sons were in 4 weeks of camps run on the university. I was in the main student building on campus every single day I was on campus. I used the bathroom that approximately 1,000 4-12 year olds used twice a day. The bathroom was also reasonably clean. The toilets were always flushed. The toilet paper was always thrown away, as were the paper towels. The sinks were reasonably clean. I just used the exact same bathroom after students have been in the same building for less than half a day. It was disgusting. Seriously. Paper towels and toilet paper everyone. Toilets unflushed, and one sink clogged. I will stop complaining now.
Students have returned to CU this week, even though classes don't start till next week. The freshman are going through orientation and lots of other students are here to get prepared for class. That's fine. They do belong here, after all. I can deal with their noise, and I can deal with the traffic and congestion on campus that they cause. I cannot, however, deal with their mess.
I was on campus a lot this summer, and my oldest sons were in 4 weeks of camps run on the university. I was in the main student building on campus every single day I was on campus. I used the bathroom that approximately 1,000 4-12 year olds used twice a day. The bathroom was also reasonably clean. The toilets were always flushed. The toilet paper was always thrown away, as were the paper towels. The sinks were reasonably clean. I just used the exact same bathroom after students have been in the same building for less than half a day. It was disgusting. Seriously. Paper towels and toilet paper everyone. Toilets unflushed, and one sink clogged. I will stop complaining now.
First Day of School, Part 1
Today is Wild Man's first day of Grade 2 (as we say in CU Land). He happily rode the bus, and he informed Archer and me that we didn't need to meet him at school as we did last year. He said, "I know what to do now, Mom. Don't worry." But I do worry. Even as I worry, I must acknowledge that he is growing into a thoughtful, sensitive child. He has his moments, to be sure, but most of the time, he shows us that he is maturing and growing up. I'm really proud of the person he's becoming. While I will always love him, I genuinely like him as a person.
Tomorrow Bear starts Junior Kindergarten. This morning, he is hanging out in my office, coloring, while I try to get some work done. We're going to lunch later, and then we may do something special just the two of us. I imagine that I'll be writing a much different post tomorrow, one in which I describe how Bear refused to go to his teacher and how I sobbed when I had to leave him. For now, I'll enjoy listening to his chatter while I finish my syllabi.
Tomorrow Bear starts Junior Kindergarten. This morning, he is hanging out in my office, coloring, while I try to get some work done. We're going to lunch later, and then we may do something special just the two of us. I imagine that I'll be writing a much different post tomorrow, one in which I describe how Bear refused to go to his teacher and how I sobbed when I had to leave him. For now, I'll enjoy listening to his chatter while I finish my syllabi.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Remembering . . .
Monday, August 19, 2013
Changes
In two weeks, Wild Man and Bear start school, Wild Man as a second grader and Bear as a Junior Kindergartener. That week George starts childcare full time, and my time as a stay-at-home mom officially ends (although it technically ended in May when my mat leave ended, George has only been in childcare part time, making me feel like I am still a stay-at-home mom in some ways). I'm feeling really conflicted about these impending changes.
On one level, I'm thoroughly enjoying watching my children flourish. Bear, in particular, has grown a lot this summer. In spite of some initial bumps, he has thrived in day camp. He has become much more independent, and Archer and I are both confident he will excel at kindergarten. Wild Man has proven to us that he is becoming a mature, responsible child. He has taken to the role of older sibling without hesitation, and he is increasingly asking for more responsibility. He loves looking out for his brothers (as much as he loves tormenting them, as is an older sibling's right, I suppose), and they have come to depend on him a great deal. George is settling into child care, and while he may be the most serious and observant of our children, he is slowly claiming a place for himself amongst the babies in his group. I'm proud of how they have adapted and their willingness to try to things. I think this speaks to mine and Archer's ability to instill confidence in them.
On another level, I'm sad that I won't be working from home most days, that I will be back to "balancing" work and home life. I'm sad that I can't just hang out at the park all day if I want to. I realize this will change. I know myself well enough to know that by next week I will be excited for the start of the school year, that I will be energized about my courses and new projects. But today, and likely for the next few days, I just want to hunker down with my boys and squeeze the last few moments out of the summer.
On one level, I'm thoroughly enjoying watching my children flourish. Bear, in particular, has grown a lot this summer. In spite of some initial bumps, he has thrived in day camp. He has become much more independent, and Archer and I are both confident he will excel at kindergarten. Wild Man has proven to us that he is becoming a mature, responsible child. He has taken to the role of older sibling without hesitation, and he is increasingly asking for more responsibility. He loves looking out for his brothers (as much as he loves tormenting them, as is an older sibling's right, I suppose), and they have come to depend on him a great deal. George is settling into child care, and while he may be the most serious and observant of our children, he is slowly claiming a place for himself amongst the babies in his group. I'm proud of how they have adapted and their willingness to try to things. I think this speaks to mine and Archer's ability to instill confidence in them.
On another level, I'm sad that I won't be working from home most days, that I will be back to "balancing" work and home life. I'm sad that I can't just hang out at the park all day if I want to. I realize this will change. I know myself well enough to know that by next week I will be excited for the start of the school year, that I will be energized about my courses and new projects. But today, and likely for the next few days, I just want to hunker down with my boys and squeeze the last few moments out of the summer.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Happy Belated Birthday to George!
A few weeks ago this thing happened, George turned 1. We were traveling, so I wasn't able to document it here. We did, however, celebrate. We had a family party in our hometown with some really dear friends whom we don't get to see often. George was really excited for homemade cake and cookies (made by his godmother), but he didn't really care about his birthday. You see, babies aren't in to birthdays. Parents, siblings, and grandparents are into birthdays. I firmly believe that we celebrate first birthdays for the adults, not for the baby. Archer and I celebrated surviving our first year as the parents of three energetic boys, and we celebrated the funny, thoughtful, kissable little guy who is George. We're still figuring out who he is, but we're having a lot of fun watching him come into his own.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Memories
My parents are fairly young, in their early sixties. My mother, aside from having bi-polar II, is in fairly good health. My father is in good health as well, but he has some physical problems that require he use a leg brace, a back brace, and a walker. Getting around is not easy for my dad. He uses a shower chair, an elevated toilet seat, and other aids that make life easier for him, at least in their house. His ability to get around is so limited that he rarely leaves the house. My parents go to dinner once a week, and they run errands--to the grocery store (where he uses a motorized cart), the drug store, and places like that. He often goes days without leaving the house, and travel is virtually impossible (well, it isn't, actually, but as he prefers not to use his insurance to get items that would make travel infinitely easier, travel is hard). That said, my dad's mind is fully functioning. He reads a lot (although stuff I think is terrible!), he watches the news constantly, and he plays several computer games meant to keep his mind active. His memory is great, and he keeps track of all his appointments as well as my mom's without a problem. My mom, on the other hand, forgets a lot. She claims this is due to her meds, and I think she is right, at least partly. Lately though, it has become very apparent that she is forgetting a lot, things that I think she should remember, like my sons' ages and their grades, the ages of her other grandchildren, that her father died. I've tried to talk to my father about my mother's memory loss, but he brushes me off, assuring me she's fine. I don't think she is though. I will see her later this month, and I will be observing very closely the sorts of things she forgets. I'm not sure what I will say or do, but I will be paying very close attention
*I started this post weeks ago, and I just finished it. I have since seen my mother, and my concerns were founded. I've arranged an appointment for her with her doctor and have scheduled a conference call with her doctor.
*I started this post weeks ago, and I just finished it. I have since seen my mother, and my concerns were founded. I've arranged an appointment for her with her doctor and have scheduled a conference call with her doctor.
Getting back into the groove
You may have noticed that I've been away, although maybe you didn't. I'm back now. Back in CU Land, back in the space. I'm not sure what that means, but I think I'll be showing up here, at least sometimes.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Be respectful, an open letter
Dear Family members,
Please take the time to be respectful of me and my views on social media. I mean, really, we're family members. We used to play together, and we recently mourned our grandfather's death together. Yes, we disagree on everything, except that we actually do like each other. So please, please, please don't call me stupid or ignorant or an f*ing liberal. I don't call you any of those things. I may want to, but I refrain from doing so. I don't even call people I don't know those things, so I most certainly call someone I love those things. Definitely not in a public forum. If you don't like what I post, don't respond. You'll notice that I rarely respond to anything political you post. I think it makes for more friendly family gatherings if we stick to commenting on pictures of our children or posts about gardening. So be kind and respectful.
Thanks,
M.
*I've finally gotten smart and started excluding some people from seeing certain posts. Really, I don't need the stress.
Please take the time to be respectful of me and my views on social media. I mean, really, we're family members. We used to play together, and we recently mourned our grandfather's death together. Yes, we disagree on everything, except that we actually do like each other. So please, please, please don't call me stupid or ignorant or an f*ing liberal. I don't call you any of those things. I may want to, but I refrain from doing so. I don't even call people I don't know those things, so I most certainly call someone I love those things. Definitely not in a public forum. If you don't like what I post, don't respond. You'll notice that I rarely respond to anything political you post. I think it makes for more friendly family gatherings if we stick to commenting on pictures of our children or posts about gardening. So be kind and respectful.
Thanks,
M.
*I've finally gotten smart and started excluding some people from seeing certain posts. Really, I don't need the stress.
I'm just tired
I'm just tired and discouraged. I'm tired and discouraged by young women who say they don't want to call themselves feminists because feminists aren't kind. I'm tired and discouraged by people who applaud the justice system, claiming that there is no such thing as institutionalized racism. I'm tired and discouraged by people who say things like, "Slavery ended over 100 years ago; why can't we just move on?" I'm tired and discouraged by people who don't recognize their own privilege. I'm tired and discouraged by people who use liberal and progressive like four-letter words (for the record I don't use conservative like a four-letter word, although I might use Tea-partier as a four-letter word). I'm tired and discouraged by people who are wholly unaware of their own hypocrisy (I am a hypocrite, and I struggle every day not to be one). I'm just tired and discouraged.
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