Moving Forward, Part 2

Moving forward after the debacle of interviewing for a position that I was repeatedly assured was mine has been harder than I thought.  At first, I experienced what I think are normal emotions: shock, anger, betrayal, confusion, more anger.  I'm trying hard to move forward.  To that end I've done a number of things that I didn't have to do, but that felt essential to maintaining my own sanity.

First, I've severed as many ties as possible with RD, without burning any bridges.  To accomplish this, I've had my name taken off of their website, and I've also had my primary affiliation on CU's website changed (this one necessitated a few phone calls).  I've relocated offices--this one was only possible because Dr. Writing, who has also had tenuous dealings with RD throughout her time at CU, understood why I didn't want to be in that department.  I've turned in my mailbox key.  I've removed my name from the faculty directory and my door.  All the while, I've thanked the staff, who have always been kind and cooperative, and I've also made sure to be courteous and polite with any RD faculty members I've had to deal with while accomplishing these tasks.  For the most part, this has been easy as the faculty members in administrative positions don't seem to be the ones who had issues with this appointment.  It likely also helps that the dean spoke directly to RD chair and told him to help me move my stuff without any question.  In fact, I think the dean, who graciously offered to have guys from the physical plant move all my boxes to my temporary office, made RD chair find the money in his budget to cover the cost.

Second, I've tried to get back to work.  I'm revising an article, which I hope to send out by next month, and I am working on an anthology proposal with two lovely colleagues, who also happen to be dear friends.

Third, I'm trying hard to focus on the positive.  I will likely end up with a T-T job once everything has settled down.  Given the state of the academic job market, securing such a position at the same university where Archer teaches is no small feat.  Plus, we're settled in CU Land.  This has, as I've suddenly realized, become home.  I really like it here.  That simple fact has enabled me to move past a lot.

I am dealing with some a bit of an identity crisis, though.  On Friday I found myself in tears after I realized that staying at CU likely means I will never teach a course in my primary field of research.  Yes, I will likely be able to focus on certain authors I study, and I will definitely be able to incorporate the genres I focus on.  But I may never teach another course on the Survey of Underwater Basket Weaving.  That was a bit hard to swallow.

For right now, I don't know what the future holds.  I know we'll be here next year.  Beyond that I can't say.  If I was asked that question a month ago, I likely would have said, "Oh, we'll be here indefinitely."  I has not in a place to even think about going back on the job market, nor was Archer.  Now I don't know.  We're taking things one day at a time.

Moving forward

Things are moving forward with a second attempt at securing me a tenure track appointment.  This process has already been infinitely more transparent and is moving faster.  I'm cautiously optimistic.  I can say my appointment will not have anything to do with Research Department.  I'm going to be cryptic for a few days until I know something more definite.

The Good and the Bad

Yetta and Pita are now home; they left on Saturday morning, so Archer, the boys, and I have had some time to settle back into our routine.  Their visit, most of which Archer and I were out of town for, went well, mostly.  I particularly enjoyed my time with Yetta, which is not always something I can say.  She and I, however, had several really long conversations.  She was incredibly supportive after the interview debacle, which was surprising.  She only asked once about the possibility of returning to the States.  For the most part, she was in a good mood, which meant I didn't need to be on edge, so we had a great visit.  I think it also helps that she's been battling a health problem that, while difficult to adapt to, has actually left her in better health. 

She has Meniere's disease, which is an disease of the inner ear.  One of the only ways to treat it without taking medication constantly is to cut sodium out of one's diet.  Doing this means she has had to change her diet drastically, which has led to some fairly dramatic weight loss.  In the past 6 months, Yetta has lost about 60 pounds, and because she can't eat fast food, has to watch what she eats when she goes out, and is determined not to suffer the effects of the disease, she has kept the weight off without a problem.  This means she gets around easier, feels better, and has more energy.  Those things mean she is a happier person. She also appreciated that Archer and I have made some changes to our diet so that it isn't much work for us to accommodate her when she comes for visit.  I've always cooked with very little salt, but I've started buying as many low-sodium or sodium free products as possible.  I also made sure she had lots of low-sodium or no-sodium things she could eat while we were gone.  She was surprised, and she said more than once how much that meant to her.  Hey, she came 1,000 miles to take care of my children; I figured that was the least I could do.

As for Pita, well, she was Pita.  Mostly she was great.  She loves the boys, and she devoted most of her attention to them, which is what I wanted and expected her to do.  She does lots of little things that grate on my nerves that I have to consciously overlook.  She never washes a dish.  NEVER.  She doesn't even take her own dish to the sink after a meal--Wild Man is 5, and he does this 85% of the time without being asked.  She doesn't push her chair under the table.  She is a large woman with a large personality, so she takes up a lot of space, both literally and figuratively.  Figuratively, she's like a big kid herself, so both Archer, Yetta, and I were constantly reminding her of the boys' schedule and to stop having tickle-fests 20 minutes before bed.  Literally, she weighs 400+ pounds.  This became an issue when she was in the kitchen while anyone was cooking.  My kitchen is not large; in fact, Archer and I struggle to cook in it together.  At some point we'll be able to redesign it, but that point is not anytime in the near future.  The size of my kitchen coupled with her size meant that I had to ask her to move several times just so I could get to the stove or the refrigerator.  She got annoyed because I asked her to move, and I got annoyed because she was in the way. 

From a different perspective, her size frustrates me because she is not in good health.  As I've said, my children love her.  I'd like her to be around for them.  I'm not sure how much longer she will be around given her myriad of health issues.  It seems that while Yetta has lost weight, Pita has gained, and there is nothing that I, who normally weighs under 110, can say to her. 

Pita has certain expectations that both Archer and I think are unreasonable, and she doesn't hesitate to make it known when her feelings have been hurt over something that really doesn't have anything to do with her.  One evening the subject of guardianship came up in a round about way (Yetta mentioned she was very nervous knowing Archer and I were on the same flight in case something happened to both of us, and we assured her that everything was taken care of financially for the boys), and Pita, who knows she has not been named as the boys' guardian, got very upset.  She actually left the dinner table and refused to speak to anyone for the remainder of the evening, including Bear and Wild Man.  So, as usual, the visit with Pita did present its own challenges.

Yetta will be back sometime in August, following the birth of #3, and I have no idea when Pita will be here.  Yetta is not fond of traveling by herself, so it is possible she would try to arrange the visit so she and Pita could travel together.  I've asked Archer to encourage her to come on her own.  It's just easier for everyone involved.

The Routine

We're settling back into our routine.  It is taking longer for the boys to settle in that I expected, primarily, I think, because Yetta and Pita are still here.  They leave today, so I'm hoping that will help.  Their visit has gone well, at least as far as Yetta and I are concerned.  We've had several great conversations, and we're learning more and more about each other.  Pita, well, she's Pita. She's had a hard time stepping back now that Archer and I are home.  She is still trying to "parent" Wild Man and Bear.  It irks me whenever someone else tries to parent my children in front of me, and it especially irks me when she does it as our values are very different.  I'm fine with her caring for my children for a week, but she is not someone I would feel comfortable being a daily presence in their lives.  It's doubly hard when everything becomes about her, but I'll save that for another post.

I met with the Dean yesterday, and s/he was helpful to an extent.  I got the distinct impression s/he didn't want to answer a lot of questions, which I found troubling.  The Dean laid out the available options, but did not offer much in the way of advice.  While every questioned I asked was answered, I did feel like the Dean was, well, being a Dean.  This entire situation has put the Dean in an awkward position, and likely, the Dean realizes I have grounds for a grievance (against the Dean, against RC, against the entire appointments committee of RD).  So I'm going to attribute the hesitancy to answer questions to that.  I'm going to try to meet with one more person early in the week to ask a few more questions before I give the Dean my final answer about where I want to be appointed.  And then we'll see what we see.

Anxious

My good friend J just emailed me.  She has offered to meet me at CU on Friday to pack up my office and then to take me out to lunch to cheer me up.  She is a wonderful friend, and I'm glad to have her in my life.  Her email, however, made the fact that I am returning to CU Land and all of the drama at CU very real. 

It seems like a small thing--changing offices.  But after not having an office for 3 years, I have grown to love my little office, which is even painted in a color I chose.  Being away has been a bit of a respite from reality. Yes, we've talked about everything, and I've communicated with Dr. Writing, Dr. Rhetoric, and the Dean.  We have a plan.  I know how I'm going to proceed. 

But I haven't actually had to face any of the unpleasant people yet (not that the above mentioned people are the unpleasant ones).  Suddenly I'm feeling a bit anxious about returning.  For now, though, I'm going to do my best to quiet that anxiety and enjoy my last evening away with Archer.

Wrapping Up

Today is the last day of our trip, and Archer and I are taking the day off from research.  Despite everything that transpired at the end of last week (was it really on a few days ago?  It seems like a lifetime in many ways), we've made the most of our time together.  His research proved to be very productive, and it now looks like he'll get an article out of the things he found.  He also now knows the images that he thought existed do in fact exist, so he will have to return to secure image rights for his book project.  For me, the research has been a bit more frustrating.  I came having no idea what I would find.  I was hoping for something specific, and while I didn't find what I was hoping for, I did uncover some interesting biographical things about an author I work on.  So now I have to figure out if what I discovered is at all significant which means doing a lot of research into secondary materials. 

As for the job stuff, my conversation with Dr. Writing and Dr. Rhetoric revealed about what I had expected.  Research Department (not the chair or the other member of the committee, it seems) used me to make a point, and that point is that they want nothing to do with partner-placements or joint appointments.  Fine.  They could have made that point without putting me through the ordeal of an "interview."  I meet with the Dean when we return, and we'll see what we see.  The Dean is pissed (D's words, not mine), and D is committed to securing a T-T line for me.  I have lots of questions, and I want answers before I say where I'd prefer to be appointed.  I am not leaving Teaching Department, but I know the Dean is leaning toward having me joint appointed in another department--one which I've worked in before and has a history of valuing partner-placements. 

Oh, and Dr. Writing has moved mountains (literally of books) so that I do not have to spend too much more time in my office that is located in Research Department.  Archer and I will move my stuff to my temporary office early next week.  It will be a relief not to have to be in that department in any way whatsoever.  I am also going to schedule an "exit interview" with Research Chair.  I feel that RC owes me some answers.  I realize I am not likely to get any satisfaction out of this meaning and that I will probably just get upset.  But if seeing me makes RC uncomfortable in anyway whatsoever, I'll take some joy in that. 

The lamb

About a week ago I had a conversation with the dean in which I firmly expressed that I did not want to be a sacrificial lamb for the partner placement initiative, such as it is, at CU.  The dean firmly agreed and indicated that everything that could be done would be done to prevent it.  I am acutely aware that the dean has two back up plans in place.  I do believe this dean is committed to ensuring that Archer and I stay at CU.  After all, as the dean reminded me, in the last 4 years, we've both brought in about $40,000 in grant money; Archer has made a name for himself in a fairly small field while teaching in a country that barely recognizes said field; I've designed 4 classes that have increased enrollment in 3 departments; and we've both demonstrated that we have strong research potential.  All the while, the dean added, while staying on the job market and balancing our home life with our careers.  The dean reminded me, however, (as deans are wont to do, I suppose) that sh/e could only control so much.  The dean reiterated that the joint appointment as it has originally been envisioned was still the way sh/e preferred to go--for lots of reasons, the primary one being that the two departments are about to merge.  I am the only person on campus who can teach in both departments.  The plan makes a lot of sense.

In an entirely separate conversation with the chair of Research department, I again stated I did not want to be made a sacrificial lamb.  RC (Research Chair) assured me that this was not going to happen, saying that if a decision was made by the appropriate committee to move forward with the interview then the appointment would go through.  I said again, "I'm not sure I believe that is the case; however, this appointment reflects the career track I want to be on.  Therefore, I will trust you."  That is where I made my mistake.

The interview happened on Monday.  I thought it went well.  The questions following my talk turned into a conversation.  Two faculty members stayed after the Q&A ended to follow up on issues in which our research areas overlap.  The following interview was also a conversation.  Lunch went well.  The grad students seemed to like me.  Dinner was a bit awkward, but it was fine.  RC assured me I had put my best foot forward and that all would go well.

The dean called me yesterday about 40 minutes after Archer and I landed for our babymoon/research trip.  The committee met sometime yesterday to finalize the appointment, or so I had been told before I left town.  All had not gone well.  I was, in fact, made the sacrificial lamb.  I will not be holding a joint appointment in Research department and Teaching department.  I know nothing more than that.  I have a conference call scheduled with the chair of TD later today.  I'm hoping to get answers, but I suspect TC will only be able to tell me so much.  I may be scheduling a meeting with my union rep when we return to CU Land as well.

For real . . .

Today I have learned, finally, how horrific academic politics can be.

An update

Monday went well.  My talk seemed to be well received; the interview portion became a dialogue very quickly; and everyone was polite and cordial.  The biggest shock: more than half of the people present had absolutely no idea I was pregnant.  No one commented on it--Canada has signed Human Rights legislation, after all.  There were lots of shocked stares, however.  Oh well.  The committee is supposed to be meeting tomorrow.  I expect to hear something at some point via email as Archer and I leave for our babymoon/research trip tomorrow.

As for that, Yetta and Pita are here, and the boys are having a blast.  I think they'll be okay, although I know Bear will be a bit moody by Sunday.  I've stressed the importance of keeping them on their schedule, and Yetta seems keen to follow it.  I know they'll be safe, loved, and fed.  But I also know lots of things will get done in a way much different than I would do them.  That bothers me a bit, to be quite honest.  But Archer and I need this time together.  I am exhausted.  I need sometime to just be with my husband, to think about things not related to CU, and to have some adult fun.

Preparing

Somehow, last week, all the planets aligned in my favor (or at least I think it was in my favor), and Research Department decided a joint appointment was a good idea.  Oh, and that directly going against the express wishes of the dean was likely not a good move.  So my interview that has been scheduled for about 2 weeks is going forward tomorrow.  I've been prepping for the last 2 weeks, as you might imagine, but I spent a good portion of yesterday putting some things together.  Today I'm rereading my job letter, my writing sample, and my job talk.  I more or less know what questions to expect, but I want to put on the best possible "show" I can tomorrow.  Archer has taken over with the boys.  They are installing a ceiling fan right now, and later they will make a trip to Home Depot to buy some things for the garden.  He even has my muffin recipe in hand so he and Wild Man can make muffins while Bear naps later today.  My biggest concern right now: I woke up with a cold this morning.  Here's hoping I can stave the worst of it off with fluids and physical, if not mental rest.

Pet Peeve

I know that what I'm about to write makes me an incredibly uncharitable person in many ways, but it is a personal pet peeve.  Therefore, the peeve likely says a great deal about me.  I'm okay with that.  Please don't remind me of my uncharitable nature; I'm already well aware of it.  I'm working on it.  I am, however, self-aware enough to realize this pet peeve is likely not going away anytime soon.  I have never told anyone who does what I'm about to describe how much it annoys me;  I have always successfully managed to hide my annoyance because I do know that, ultimately, the people making the annoying statement are making it out of love.  But honestly, it still irritates me.

Here it is: I do not like it when other people refer to Wild Man and Bear as "my little boys."  Call them your nephews, your buddies, your sweethearts, your grandsons, your great-grandsons, your friends.  Do not call them "my little boys."  They are not "your little boys."  They are mine and Archer's little boys, and we don't even refer to them that way.  Why?  Because, ultimately, they are individuals and we don't own them.  And neither do you.

And just like that . . .

the tide shifts.

I'm sorry for being cryptic.  I will write about everything that has transpired today, once I process it all.  Good, bad?  At this point, I honestly don't know.

Wild Man, Pink, and peer judgement

Wild Man loves pink.  In fact, pink is his favorite color.  He frequently laments the fact that boys' clothes aren't pink.  You see, he doesn't want to wear skirts or dresses.  He is quite happy in his cords and polo shirts, but he wants his polo shirts to be pink.  Or he wants a few of them to be pink.  Archer has several shirts that have pink in them, and Wild Man is having a tough time understanding why his father has pink shirts, but he doesn't.  (As an aside, I have a hard time with this myself.  Why is it okay for a grown man to wear pink, but not okay for a five year old boy?  I'm sure it has something to do with parents not wanting their sons to be too "girly" whereas an adult male has already established his masculinity, but I have no hard evidence to back this up.)  So Wild Man makes do.  He often wears a pink headband to school, especially on days he wants to dress up, and he wears his one pink shirt on any day he deems special.

Recently I've been putting juice in Wild Man's lunch bag for SK rather than water (this is a long story, but suffice to say, he doesn't drink the water and was saying he wasn't feeling well; I decided he was dehydrated, so I started sending juice.  He drinks the juice).  One day he asked me to put his juice in his pink sparkly insulated cup (like this one, only pink and sparkly).  I said sure, thinking "a cup is a cup is a cup," and began putting that cup in his lunch bag every day. 

A few days ago, while I was volunteering in Wild Man's SK classroom, one of the little girls in his class walked over to me during snack time.  She tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Wild Man's mom (this is what all the kids in the class call me), why do you let Wild Man bring a pink cup to school?  Don't you think that it is weird for a boy to have a pink cup?"  While she asked me this question, I looked over at Wild Man, who was sitting 2 tables away, happily drinking his juice and eating the strawberries I had packed him.  He hair was, as usual, hanging in his face, and he had green and pink paint on his pants from an art project he'd worked on earlier in the day.  I turned to his classmate, who was dressed head-to-toe in pink and silver sequined Mary Jane sneakers.  I said, "Well, Wild Man really likes pink, so no, I don't think it is weird.  Why do you think it is weird?"  She said, "Boys aren't supposed to like pink."  At this point, Wild Man overheard our conversation and walked over to us.  He said, "I like pink a lot, so I wanted a pink cup.  Pink is my favorite color.  I think anyone can like pink."  The girl looked at me as if to say, "Um, no, that isn't right," but she returned to her table and resumed eating her snack.  Wild Man continued his conversation about Star Wars, and I returned to the list of tasks Wild Man's teacher had asked me to complete. 

I am very proud of how Wild Man responded, and I'm really proud of how confident he is.  He likes pink.  He doesn't care what anyone else says, and he is clearly capable of handling such comments on his own.  I do have to admit that I was more than a bit surprised that a girl not a boy expressed discomfort with Wild Man having a pink cup.  I've been waiting on one of the boys in his class to say something about his pink shirts, his ties (yes, he occasionally wears a tie to school), his pink headband, or his pink cup.  I wasn't prepared for the girls to say something.  Now I'm wondering what that says about my own conceptions of gender.

More on the short of it

As I wrote yesterday, I had several meetings in an attempt to figure out how to proceed.  I met with Dr. Writing and Dr. Rhetoric, and I had a phone conversation with the dean.  Drs. Writing and Rhetoric were, as always, wonderful and supportive.  They helped me work through the decisions I have to make.  They also listened to me vent the process.  They outlined their vision for me, which more or less matches my own vision, and reassured me that they see me as a valuable member of the program, something they have already told me and, more importantly, demonstrated. 

I then spoke with the dean, who (as much as a dean can) expressed frustration with the situation and apologized.  As much as I've been able to determine, the dean isn't the problem.   In fact, the dean has been among my most vocal supporters, primarily from an institutional standpoint more than a personal one, but frankly, that's what I expect from a dean.  I will say that the dean sees me as key to several projects within the faculty, and the dean further sees both joint appointments and partner-placements as key to building a healthy, collegial community in the faculty.  I see those things as valuable too.  I like that I am a trailblazer to some extent; I do not, however, want to be a sacrificial lamb, and I said that to the dean.  We discussed the options available to me, and the dean is not ready to give up on the track we've been headed down since October.  I stated very emphatically that in an ideal world the current track is also my preference; however, I do not think it is likely to work out given the personalities involved, and I am no longer certain I can receive a fair assessment from several key players involved.  I reiterated that I do not want to be a sacrificial lamb.  I also stated I am not willing to renew my contract as it currently stands to "try" this whole process again next year.  Without using the word grievance, I made it as clear as I could that I've been advised that I have grounds for a grievance; to avoid taking that route, I want this matter resolved as soon as possible.  The dean was positive and supportive (have I mentioned I really like this individual?  I appreciate the forthrightness, again as much as a dean can be forthright, and the pragmatism this individual demonstrates).  We ended the conversation with the dean assuring me that I would know something definite by this afternoon.  We're scheduled to meet Monday morning, so I have some time to deal with whatever that decision is and make my own decisions.

As for how I'm feeling, I've moved on from being hurt to being pissed.  I realize that much of what is going on is political and most of it has little to do with me.  I am, unfortunately, simply the person who is seeking a partner placement, something for which I am more than qualified .  I am not asking for a t-t position to be handed to me.  Quite the contrary.  I've willingly and, dare I say, happily submitted all the same materials I submitted for any other job search.  I've been preparing a talk for weeks (Archer has read the damn thing twice, and my research group has read it once).  I expect to be evaluated, but I also expect that I'll be given a fair chance.  I have been working under the assumption that once everyone saw my C.V., job letter, writing sample, letters of recommendation, and teaching philosophy they would see what I bring to the table.  I then assumed hearing my job talk would help them see that I do something that is worthwhile, something that no one else at CU does.  I have not been naive, but I have assumed that people would be fair.  That's where I was wrong. 

I'll know something by 1:00 today.  And at this point, I have no idea what I want the outcome to be.

The short of it

At some point, I'll likely write a post that details "the long of it," but for now, I'll keep it short.

• I first want to say that I am angry, frustrated, and hurt.  I can't explain specifically why yet, primarily because I have a series of meetings today that will begin to resolve the issue.  The success of these meetings depends, at least to some degree, in me keeping it together.  Given that I'm already dealing with hormones and that Disney's "Chimpanzee," which Archer and I took the boys to see this weekend, reduced me to tears for 20 minutes, I need to keep a tight reign on my emotions.
• I also want to say that I am not naive.  I know how academia works.  I never believed any of the "promises" that were made to me.  In fact, the one person whom I've come to trust completely in this matter is the only person who never made me any promises.  I knew from the moment I signed my contract last year that all of this could fall apart.  
• The drama continues with the conversion of my appointment.
• I have had few expectations going into this whole process.  In fact, I started this academic year assuming the all-but promised conversion wouldn't take place.
• I became more confident after multiple meetings with both department heads and the dean, each of whom assured me this would, in fact, happen.  The dean even said as much to Archer in front of Archer's department head--at least twice.  I was also advised, in good faith, that I did not need to go on the job market this year.  I did not follow that advice, but still, that is the advice I was given.
• Since the talk of the conversion began (in October), other things have taken place which have made the conversion complicated.  None of these things have anything to do with me personally; however, I am now at the center of these complications.
• One of the departments, which is notoriously competitive, has multiple faculty members who think more of themselves and the department than perhaps they should.  They are also vocally opposed to the idea of any sort of non-competitive hire.  I've been reminded repeatedly that this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the "process."
• I got some news yesterday that I was expected, but that was, nonetheless, upsetting.  The conversion will likely move forward, but not in the capacity that had been discussed for the past several months.  I am now left with major decisions, as in career changing decisions.  The decisions I have to make in the next few days (I could push it to weeks, but I'm 28 weeks pregnant.  I need this resolved, for my own sanity and health.) could potentially change the direction of my career for at least the next 5-7 years, if not permanently.
• I will be meeting with the parties involved in the next few days to get their input, but frankly, I want some answers.  I feel betrayed by one person in particular (again, the reasons are really complicated), and I want some kind of explanation.  After all the assurances over the past several months, I think this person, who has been all but avoiding me, owes me the courtesy of answering a few questions.

To blog or not to blog

Currently I am in the midst of departmental drama, drama that affects the conversion of my position to tenure track.  As the drama has become more pronounced, I've refrained from blogging about it.  I try to remain as anonymous as possible, but I think it is likely easy to figure out who I am in real life.  So I avoid writing about things that could offend anyone or could reveal too much about my real identity.  But I'm finding I really want to write about the drama, yet I continue to hold back.  That is the question I'm struggling with today while I try to revise a paper for publication.  Do I blog, or do I keep quiet?

Parenting Dilemma, update

Following my previous post, Archer and I talked.  He raised a few points that had not occurred to me.  First, Bear has recently begun saying, "Don't hit me" when we've reprimanded him for misbehaving or (and particularly) being too loud.  Second, he has also said, "I don't want to play with K" and "I don't like K."  In fact, Archer told me that he's overheard a number of the children in Bear's class make similar statements in the past few weeks.  That one bothered me a lot.  You see, we can figure out how to explain to Bear that K is different, and that just because K hits doesn't mean that it is alright for Bear to hit.  It will likely take some time for Bear to understand, but I think he will get it after a few weeks.  I do not, however, want Bear to dislike K over behavior that, ultimately, K doesn't have much control over.  I want him to be empathetic and sympathetic.  Ultimately, we decided to speak with the director of the center to get her feedback regarding both the protocol for dealing with a child who has special needs and their plan for explaining the situation to the other children.

The conversation was, I'm happy to report, fruitful and informative.  The director confirmed that K is autism, although he is fairly high functioning.  Bear's teacher had already reported to incident to the director, so she was prepared for Archer and I to stop by.  She told us that the biggest challenge has been getting K diagnosed.  He displayed symptoms of autism at a fairly young age, around 9 months or so, but his parents (K is Asian) are fairly recent immigrants to Canada and do not come from a culture that is very accepting of such disabilities.  Now that he has been diagnosed, the parents have become much more willing to initiate meetings, to meet with specialists, and to develop action plans.  She explained the protocol for dealing with K's anger, which is much the same for dealing with any child who hits another child; the teachers remove K from the action and redirect him.  They have also employed a full-time aid who is generally always with K; unfortunately, this particular morning she had a doctor's appointment and didn't get there until after K had hit Bear.  When I described what happened, the director said she actually thinks K was responding to Bear's cries; like many autistic children, K doesn't like loud noises, so he hit Bear in an attempt to say, "That noise hurts my ears.  Please stop."  I buy that, and I even accept that.  As for explaining the situation to the other children, the teachers have begun reading more books about differences and how it is okay that everyone is different.  Unfortunately, there are very few books on the market about children with autism and their interactions with children who aren't autistic.  I know--I looked.  Overall, I feel relieved with the conversation, and I'm glad to know the center is being proactive in the approach to K.

As for us, we've continued reminding Bear that hitting is not okay, and we've even explained to Wild Man to be a bit more gentle when they wrestle.  We've also started talking about why sometimes there are different rules for different children.  We'll keep at it, and I hope that Bear will start playing with K, at least sometimes.

Parenting Dilemma

For the past few months we've been dealing with Bear's anger.  He is almost three, and the kid has a temper.  As he has gotten more verbal he has gotten much better at controlling his temper and expressing himself.  He does have a tendency, however, to  hit Wild Man or me.  As an aside, Bear rarely hits Archer, and the only explanation I have for this is that at 6'2", Archer is much bigger than Bear.  Bear hits under fairly normal circumstance--when he and Wild Man are squabbling over a toy, when I'm disciplining him, or when he is unable to express himself.  As I've said, he has improved a lot in the past 4 months or so, primarily because we've been firm.  At times, I've been firmer than I'd like to be, but honestly, Bear responds to firmness in a way that Wild Man did not.  We were at a point when I thought we had almost moved past this stage. 

Recently though Bear has regressed a bit.  A few times a week he will walk up to me or to Wild Man and just hit us for no real reason.  Archer and I were both at a loss for this behavior.  We continued our normal discipline tactics, but it didn't really seem to work.  This morning I witnessed something that explains the behavior.

At daycare this morning, Bear was unusually fussy.  He has never handled drop offs particularly well, although he is generally fine less than two minutes after we leave his classroom.  This morning he was out of sorts because Archer's schedule necessitated that we took him to his classroom by 8:30, which means that we were out of the house a bit earlier than usual and that I was the only parent dropping off.  Any change can throw Bear off, whereas Wild Man adapts much easier.  Because he was upset, I spent more time with Bear.  As I was finally able to get him settled into an activity with one of his teachers another child came up to him and smacked him in the face.  It wasn't a hard smack, but it shocked Bear.  He went from whining to full on sobbing.  The teacher nearest Bear picked him up to comfort him, and the other teacher ran across the room to redirect the hitter.  Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, and he hit Bear again.  The teachers both apologized to me, and I didn't say much.  As the situation was under control, I left.  I knew my staying would only prolong how long it took Bear to calm down, and frankly, I wasn't sure I could be in the room with the hitter.

So here is the dilemma.  The hitter has some sort of developmental delay.  I'm inclined to think he is autistic, but I have no confirmation of this.  I know an aid comes in to work with him every day; I know he gets speech therapy; and I know there are pictures and charts posted around the room reminding him of the rules and the schedule.  I also know he takes his clothes off regularly and that, at 3, he doesn't yet speak, nor is he potty trained.  I've seen some behaviors that suggest autism, but I haven't asked.  It also isn't the center's practice to disclose which children have disabilities or what those disabilities are.  I do think, however, that Bear may be learning to hit in certain circumstances from this child.  Considering how hard we've worked to get Bear to stop hitting, I really don't want to start all over. But I'm not sure what to say or even how to broach this with Bear's teachers, both of whom were Wild Man's teachers and both of whom I really like.  I realize there is only so much they can do, given the rules of the center--time out isn't an option, and it likely wouldn't work for this child.  But I think there must be a way to let the other children know not to mimic the hitter's behavior.  Thoughts?

Curtains

So I'm contemplating ordering some curtains for my kitchen.  Actually a friend from Southwest College Town is starting up a sewing business, and she has offered to make some curtains for me for what I think is a really reasonable price.  Now I'm just trying to decide on fabric.  I like this one, this one,  and this one.  For some reason I want birds for the kitchen, and Archer assures me that isn't odd.  Is that because he's a good husband or because of what he does for a living?  Ultimately, our kitchen will have white cabinets and will be painted a butter yellow with blue accents (at least, that is the kitchen of my dreams), so I think these fabrics will work.

Dreaming of fabrics is a new thing for me.  I wonder if I'm actually nesting.  I've never done that before--yes, I've cleaned and organized prior to the birth of each of my children, but more because, well, it needed to be done, not because I had some overwhelming, uncontrollable desire to do it.  I really just want to redecorate the house though, not nest.  We've been here for 9 months, and it still doesn't feel like ours.    I'm thinking new curtains for the kitchen and a coat (or four) will help.

Job drama

So it occurred to me that I haven't written about job drama in a while.  I will say, however, that it is still ongoing.  I don't really have the energy or the inclination to blog about it now.  I will write a long blog when it is finally over.  With any luck, that should be in the next two weeks or so.

The third pregnancy

My ribs hurt.  A lot.  That is all.

More names

So we have another name conundrum.  Both our boys are named after someone, and we want to continue that tradition with #3.  If this baby had been a girl, she likely would have shared my middle name.  Now that we're fairly certain #3 is a boy, we're still contemplating middle names.  Honestly, there aren't any male relatives or friends we feel particularly compelled to name the baby after.  We briefly considered Archer's father, but both his brother and our nephew are named for Archer's dad (can I say how completely ridiculous I think it is to have a "Third" in a family that isn't the Kennedys or the Quincy Adams? Just saying.).  Therefore, neither of us really sees much need to honor Archer's dad again.  Wild Man is named after my grandfather, and for reasons I don't even know that I can explain, I don't want to use my father's name.  A few weeks ago Archer suggested the male equivalent of my middle name, but that is a name I don't really like.  So we tried another tactic.  I looked up my middle name and tried to find a male name that means the same thing.  There is a minor problem, however.  My middle name is a fairly normal name, but it isn't spelled normally.  My middle name doesn't exist in naming dictionaries.  Thus, I just looked up the normally spelled version and tried to find male names that mean the same thing.  Um, yes, we don't like any of those names.  Well, we sort of like one.  So what is my point in this rambling post?  This baby is going to be hard to name.

Names

We're currently in the midst of the name game at our house.  We've narrowed it down to two names we both love, and we have two others we both really like.  As with Bear and Wild Man, we won't name the baby until he has been born.  We recently discovered that one of the names we both love--and the one that Archer especially loves--is becoming increasingly popular.  That turned us both off a bit.  It is still far from a name you hear every day, but there is a distinct possibility there will be more than one "X" running around the playground by the time #3 starts kindergarten.  Suddenly, one of our top choices is feeling a bit worn.  And, honestly, that makes me sad.  Why do we care that other people like this name?  So here is a question for my readers: would you pick a name that was either growing in popularity or already popular?  Does that matter to you?

I get it already

*I have to say this and I don't really have anywhere else to say it, so I'm putting it here.  Please take this disclaimer to know that this post isn't directed at any of my close friends or regular readers.

We are officially out of the closet to everyone.  We even went so far as to post an ultrasound image on Facebook to share with our family and friends.  Why such a public statement?  Well, we realized that there were many, many people who didn't know about #3.  This seemed the easiest way to inform everyone in one shot without having to get into a lengthy discussion with lots of people.

The response has been overwhelmingly supportive.  A few people have expressed surprise, but in a very pleasant way.  And given my own initial reaction, I cannot fault anyone for being surprised.  So mostly everyone is happy we're expecting.  A few people, none of them close friends or family, have gone out of their way to express disappointment that #3 is a boy.  Okay, fine, whatever.  Say it and move on.  I can deal with, "Oh, I was hoping you'd have a girl."  I can handle, "Oh, three boys!  How unfair!"  I can even accept, "I'm so disappointed.  I wanted a girl."  I can accept all of those statements once.  I will chalk them up to the fact that the people making them don't know me that well, aren't aware of how much I value boundaries, and how much I see statements like this as offensive to me and my boys.  I can bite my tongue and keep my snappy retorts to myself once, twice, maybe even three times.  But when such statements are made by someone whom I view to be little more than an acquaintance over and over and over again--both to me privately and publicly--I start to lose my patience.  So to those people, I say--I get it.  You're sad.  I've validated your sadness over the fact that my baby is a boy.  Now shut up about it already.

Archer and the travel gods

Archer has really bad luck with travel.  Really bad luck.  This weekend, however, he must have done something right.  He was scheduled to get home around midnight, having to take a 2-hour shuttle from the closest big city airport to CU Land.  Somehow he managed to get on an earlier flight and to get on an earlier shuttle.  The result: he was home by 7:20, in plenty of time to see the boys, help with bath and bed, and get to hang out with me a bit.  So I'm writing this as a way to offer my thanks to the travel gods!

The Rundown

Archer has been out of town for about 48 hours now, and he'll get back late this evening, well after the boys are asleep.  Lots of stuff has happened in his absence, so here is the rundown.

• He left Thursday morning, just as the boys were finishing breakfast.  The morning routine can be stressful at our house, so I consciously changed the routine to make it less stressful on me.  All in all it went quite well, and we were out of the house by 8:30.  Of course, we ran into some construction traffic, which meant we didn't arrive at the Bear's daycare until 10 minutes before Wild Man had to be at Kindergarten.  Luckily a good friend with whom we often trade drop off duties was dropping off his son at the same time I was trying to drop off Bear, and he offered to take Wild Man to school as he had to take his daughter there too.  So Thursday morning worked out fairly well.
• Over half of my Thursday class decided not to show up, which was annoying, but it also meant that the students who managed to show up were treated to an impromptu paper workshop session.
• I spent the afternoon in a spontaneous meeting and then caught up on some reading and grading.
• I picked Wild Man up, took him with me to the library, and then we got Bear and headed home.  
• The evening routine went smoothly--primarily because I didn't have to cook.  I just heated up some leftover sauce and meatballs, and the boys were more than happy with spaghetti. The boys were both in bed by bedtime, although Bear fought going to sleep for quite a while.  After 30 minutes, I made it clear I'd had enough and 10 minutes later he was sound asleep.
• I went to bed soon after, and Friday morning went fairly smooth as well.
• Yesterday was a bit of a challenge for me.  I don't like waiting, and I spent the day waiting to hear the results of a meeting in which Research Department discussed non-competitive hires.  Although this was a full department meeting, Dr. English had asked that I not attend.  To be honest, that irritated me more than a bit.  First, I go to department meetings; that is just what I do.  Second, there were several agenda items being discussed that were pertinent to me for various reasons.  I didn't want to be present for the discussion that tangentially concerned me--not at all.  But I didn't like be excluded from the whole meeting.  I also didn't like the way Dr. English, who assured me that this would be a conversation about hiring not about me, had put the discussion on the agenda.  It was worded in such a way that it seems impossible that my name wasn't brought into it.  The meeting was at 11, but I didn't hear anything until 3:30, which meant I didn't get much done other than constantly hitting the refresh button on my email.
• The news was good, I guess.  The department, collectively, is finally ready to move forward with this hire, so I have been formally invited to interview with the department.  A date still has yet to be determined.  I ran into Dr. English on my way out who said he'd be happy to meet with me to discuss the process again (I think he's feeling more than a bit guilty about how long and drawn out this has been), and we briefly discussed date.  It looks like it won't be scheduled until the end of April.  As tactfully as I could I said, sooner rather than later would be better for me as I don't really want to interrupt my talk for a bathroom break.  He laughed, but my expression made it clear I wasn't joking.
• Then I picked up the boys, got some milk, and came home.  We played, we ate dinner, and the boys went to bed.  
• Today may prove to be challenging as it is raining, but we have a playdate and dinner plans for later this afternoon.  I'm hoping to make it till bedtime with my sanity in tact.

Yes, yes, I can

Archer is out of town until Saturday.  Given some of his previous trips, this one is relatively quick.  He is only gone for two nights, although logistics mean that he is actually gone for three bedtimes.  The bulk of his trip occurs during the week, which means I am in the office and teaching, Bear is at daycare, and Wild Man is at kindergarten.  It does mean that I am responsible for the entire morning and evening routine on my own, and it also means I'm on point all day on Saturday.  Is it stressful?  Sure.  In fact, it is apparently so stressful that both my mother and Yetta called last night to make sure I could handle my children on my own.  My response, "Yes, yes, I can."  I really wanted to say, "If you were concerned, you could have offered to help, you know, sooner than the day before Archer leaves town."  I mean, seriously, if I had said, "Nope, I can't do it.  Someone is sure to suffer. I'll likely just leave Bear at the neighbor's house all week and make Wild Man fend for himself while I stay in bed," would either of them have shown up at my house?  Sorry for the sarcasm, but seriously.  Yes, yes, I can manage to take care of my children for 3 days all by myself.  I've done it before, and I have no doubt I'll do it again.  In fact, at some point, I am quite sure I'll be taking care of all three of them all by myself.

More Good News!

I just received an email telling me that an essay I submitted was accepted for publication!  This is the essay that I've been working on for, oh, about 3 1/2 years.  It was part of my dissertation, and I edited and revised it.  I sent it out last year.  It was rejected.  I revised it some more, and I sent it to my writing group.  I revised it still more.  I sent it out again.  It was rejected.  I made minor, minor changes, which primarily consisted of editing a few passages and moving some paragraphs.  I then sent it out about 2 weeks after the second rejection.  In the meantime I've been working on other things and trying not to think about it.  This morning I got a lovely email saying, Yes, it has been accepted.  I shouted so loud Archer thought I'd hurt myself and I scared Bear!  I will likely shout again when I see it in print!

I may pass out from shock. . .

Archer and I both have a modest amount of grant money to do research in one of our favorite cities, and we've been trying to coordinate with Yetta and Pita in the hope that we both could actually go to said city together.  I was at the point where I was ready to book my trip, as it was seemed increasingly unlikely that Yetta and Pita would come through.  For weeks we got the usual run around.  It goes something like this:
Y: Tell me what dates work best for you and Archer.
M: Here are three different weeks we could make work.
Y: Okay, I've written them down; I'll check with Pita and get back to you.

Y: (in another phone call a few days later) Tell me what dates work best for you and Archer.
M: Really anytime after Date X is fine.
Y: Okay, I've written that down; I'll check with Pita and get back to you.

You get the point, and this went on for about six weeks.  Then, Pita called to say she was almost positive she had the time off, and she told us to book our tickets.  But we didn't.  Neither of us was comfortable booking tickets if we didn't know for certain that they were able to come.  This made her angry.  Then, she got the time off.  I nearly fainted.  But they didn't book their tickets.  Yetta called us almost every night for 10 days to find out if we'd booked our tickets.  Every single time Archer said, "We're not booking your tickets until you book yours.  So let me know when you book your tickets."  Then, Pita hurt herself while at the park with some friends.  At that point, Archer and I were both sure we weren't going anywhere together.  But miracle of miracles: they booked their tickets.  They will be in CU Land for 10 days, which means that Archer and I have two days to show them our very complicated schedule before we can go to said city for a week.  I seriously think I might pass out from shock.  Seriously.

My new role model

So I've decided Cate Blanchett is my new role model.  Why? Well, she's lovely and very smart; she has a successful home life and a successful career; and she doesn't mind showing up in public looking a bit frazzled. Oh, and she is a mother to three boys.

A pet peeve

I really want to post the following on Facebook, but it will cause less controversy here. 

To those who believe women should be friends simply because they are women:

First, I can only assume that if you believe this you are a man, which is perhaps a false assumption.  But as your also making a false assumption, I think my false assumption is merited.  Are you friends with all men simply because you are also a man? No, in fact, I would venture to guess that you've met a lot of men in your lifetime that you sincerely dislike.  Whether that dislike is based on a difference in religion, politics, or personality, it matters not; the reality of life is that we don't like everyone we meet.  There is no unifying sisterhood of women.  I am a woman, yes, and I like lots of women.  I do not, however, like or support every single women in the world.  Why?  Well, sometimes our beliefs simply do not agree, thereby making it hard for me to like such women. 

Oh, and just as a point of reference, if you have to start a statement in the following way, "I'm all for women's rights, but. . . " you've just proven that you are, in fact, NOT for women's rights.  I'd have much more respect for you if you stopped pretending and just owned up to the fact that you're sexist and do not believe in equality among the sexes.

Thanks for the chat,
M.

Work Drama and the "Ivy Tower"

I don't usually engage in conversations about how tenure track faculty treat non-tenure track faculty or how T-T faculty often live in an ivory tower.  Why?  I'm not entirely sure, but mostly because these conversations, in my estimation, tend to become heated very quickly and are often filled with vitriol.  On any given week, I have enough drama in my personal life (thanks to my extended family and in-laws) that I don't really want to engage in drama in the blogosphere.  This week, however, I am the target of the ivory tower.  While I am not the target directly, I am being directly affected by several T-T faculty members belief in "the system" and their placement in the ivory tower of academia.

Dr. English stopped by my office earlier this week to tell me that my job talk will have to be pushed back again.  It seems that at least three members of the department have come to him and expressed concern over a non-competitive hire.  This department has never made a partner placement.  Yes, you read that correctly; while there are a number of couples in the department and several members have partners in other departments or faculties, this department has never hired a partner of a department member in a non-competitive hire.  There is, however, a slight caveat to that truth.  At least two members of the department (one of whom has a partner on a T-T line in the department and the other has a spouse on a T-T line in a different department) have threatened to leave if their partners weren't considered for T-T positions within the university.  Suddenly, there were T-T positions open specifically in these individuals' spouses' areas, and miraculously, each search committee interviewed and selected these individuals for the open positions.  At no point whatsoever did either committee discuss the fact that these individuals were partners with prominent members of the English department, I'm quite certain.  Incidentally, both of these individuals have been hired in the last 5 years. 

As a result of never having hired someone purely through a partner placement, the department does not have a specific policy on this.  Therefore, to address all the talk, as Dr. English put it, he wants to push back my job talk to discuss department policy on non-competitive hires.  This conversation will take place at the next department meeting, which he specifically asked me not to attend.  Following the conversation, we will set a date for my job talk and interview, and we will move forward.  He assured me that he is certain everything will be fine; he can't, however, make that promise.

All of this annoys me for several reasons.  First, even though Dr. English has assured me that this "isn't about me," it is very hard not to take this personally.  The three people who have expressed concern over a non-competitive hire have made no attempt to meet me, to learn about my work, or to learn about my teaching.  They simply assume that if this is a non-competitive search then, well, I must be below the standards of the department.  Second, none of these individuals cares that I've been teaching in their beloved department since 2009 (or that my teaching scores are a full point higher than the department average, but whatever).  Thus, I'm apparently worthy of teaching their students in both intro level courses and upper level courses, but I'm not worthy of being their colleague.  Third, they seem to have no understanding of how a partner placement could benefit a department.  In this case, specifically, they will have hired a person who does something that no one in their department does--in fact, this was a topic of conversation at a faculty meeting last year, as several junior members were appalled that a department of this size at a major research university does not have a T-T faculty member in this particular field.  Well, not only am I'm firmly in that field, but I also have a historical perspective on said field, something all major research universities in the States have started recognizing is crucial.  Further, I am the only member of said department who has been trained to teach underwater basket weaving, a field that this department is beginning to realize it will have to move into if it is to stay relevant.  Oh, and I'm already here.  They don't have to sell me on CU Land; and if I'm being totally honest, for a young, hot scholar in my field, CU Land would be a hard sell indeed.  Finally, I volunteer for committee work, I show up for meetings, I do my job and I do it well.  So what is the big friggin' deal?

The big friggin' deal is that these three individuals are so far out of touch with reality that not only do they simply not understand how all universities need to have a partner placement policy in place, but they also don't understand that keeping their faculty members happy (even if said faculty member works in another department) is crucial to keeping the university running.  They actually seem to believe there is a difference between them and me because I've worked as a lecturer in their department before earning my current appointment, which is a research based appointment.  And these are the people I was so excited to consider my colleagues only 3 days ago.

The Ultrasound

I had my 20 week U/S this morning, and following the hospital's policy, the tech was not allowed to tell us the baby's sex.  The radiologist will look at the images taken by the tech and then draft a report.  I'll be able to call my midwife on Wednesday to get the results.  I did, however, ask the tech if she got a good image of the appropriate area, and she said, "Yes, I don't think the doctor will have any trouble reading the image."  Archer and I left the appointment speculating on what that means (we both think this suggests that the baby is a boy), but we'll see what we see.  Following the appointment we had lunch and started debating names.  As with both Wild Man and Bear, boys' names are easier for us.  We have two names (nope, I'm not sharing) that we really like, although we're struggling with a middle name for one of these names.  Girls' names are harder for us, for some reason.  We have a list of about seven or eight, and we know the middle name will either be for Archer's grandmother or will be the same as my middle name (depending on the first name).  There isn't, however, a clear front runner.

Where am I on the baby's sex?  I've been thinking about this a lot.  I honestly thought I'd be a bit disappointed if the baby wasn't a girl, but now that the tech's statements have both of us thinking boy, I'm feeling relief and excitement.  Really, a boy would be easier.  I have lots of hand-me-downs (not that I am the type of person who is opposed to putting a girl in boys' clothes), and well, our house is geared for boys.  A third boy would simply enhance the chaos that is already present in our home and our lives, whereas a girl, well, a girl would enhance it in a different way--mostly, I think because of how other people would respond to us having a girl.  Archer and I wouldn't need to go out and buy a bunch of pink, but some of our friends and family members definitely would. But, as Archer put it this morning, a boy would be wonderful while a girl would allow us to experience things we haven't yet experienced as parents.  So we'll see what we see.

Editing

I'm working on my job talk for CU (don't ask, please; I'll get annoyed all over again.  I will say, as I've posted previously, I have to have a formal interview, including giving a job talk, as part of my current position converting to a tenure track position), and I'm having a hard time focusing.  Why?  Well I'm thinking about too many things at once.  In addition to trying to cut about 15 pages out of a chapter that I'm already trying to edit into a journal article, I'm thinking about images to show during the talk.  I need to focus on one task rather than doing what I usually do.  I'm starting to think that I'm not as good at multitasking as I think I am. . .

Should we?

Friday is my 20-week ultrasound.  If we want to find out the sex of this alien who has invaded my body, Friday is the day we can try.  I say try because we were told that Bear was a girl, and most of you know the outcome of that story.  Currently, Archer and I are undecided as to whether or not we will find out.  Part of me really wants to know, as I've had enough surprises the last few months, but a little voice keeps saying, "Can you trust what the radiologist tells you?"  I will be having the ultrasound at the hospital this time, rather the private practice (or at least I think it was a private practice) where I had it last time.  Archer is leaning towards finding out, as well, but I think it will be a game day decision, so to speak.  So what say you, lovely readers, should we or shouldn't we?

Home

After a day of travel, we arrived home last night at 6:30.  The moment Bear was in the house he took off his shoes and his coat and ran to the playroom, yelling "Mommy, turn on the light!  I need to play!"  Wild Man sat down at the kitchen table and asked to do his homework, telling me "I want to play all day tomorrow, so let's do the work now!"  I think they were glad to be home.

The visit

Today is our last day in Home State.  We had back to CU Land early tomorrow morning.  The visit has gone well, although there have been moments of tension.  As I type this, I can hear Bear laughing as he chases Yetta's dog and Wild Man and Pita playing cards together.  Last night, Archer and I met my best friend from high school and her husband for dinner, while Pita and Yetta took care of the boys.  We stayed out till 11:30, lingering over drinks (club soda with lime for me), dinner,and dessert.  Later today, Yetta is taking me to get a massage, and this evening my parents and brother are coming over for dinner.  I'll chalk this one up as a good visit.

My grandfather's advice

On Sunday evening, Archer called my grandfather to tell him about the pregnancy.  My grandfather, who is 87, said, "Don't you know what causes that yet?"  And then he laughed.  He explained to Archer that he also knows about "surprises."  My mother was born on her older sister's first birthday, so I'm quite certain her arrival was a bit shocking as well.  After a few moments Archer passed the phone to me, and I chatted with my grandfather for awhile. As we were saying good-bye, he gave me one last piece of advice to share with Archer: "Tell him to sleep facing the wall from now on."  He was laughing loudly as he hung up the phone.  I love my grandfather.

Retail Therapy

So I lied; I'm not writing yet.  Here is something just for fun.  I'm thinking of ordering this for an interview blouse.

Clearing my mind

I'm writing in an attempt to clear my mind so I can get work done this afternoon.  I've already gotten a bit done this morning, but it is mainly what I classify as busy work--looking up citations, searching for articles, and going to the library.  In the midst of all that busy work, here is what is going on.

• Archer has been trying to figure out the pregnancy and parental leave structure at CU and in our province.  You'd think this would be easy since he took parental leave when Bear was born, but no, it's proven to be incredibly difficult to figure out.  Why?  Well, this time we're both full-time employees of CU, and I've been working full-time for quite a while (at least as far as the province is concerned), even before I was considered a full-time by CU.  We thought this meant that we'd both be eligible for full benefits. But, no, as it turns out, only one of use is eligible.  So what does that mean?  Well, CU tops up the provincial subsidy for parental leave, which means full-time employees get 95% of their pay for 24 weeks of parental leave.  After the 24 weeks, employees receive the standard provincial subsidy which is 55% of their pay.  It turns out that if both parents are full-time employees only one is eligible for the top up.
• This causes a glitch because we can't afford to go six months on 55% of my pay, not with the cost of childcare and the cost of purchasing a new car at sometime in the very near future.  Oh, and we have to declare permanent residency, which for Archer, Wild Man, and myself will cost us around $3,500 a person.  There are apparently ways around this, and we're trying to figure those ways out.
• Figuring out these differences is also a source of stress.  Archer would rather talk to people we know and get info from them.  I would rather go see our HR rep and figure it out from one person who knows it all.  We've disagreed on whether it is a good idea to talk to our HR rep though.  Archer thinks it isn't a good idea until my contract is signed.  I say we already know that, barring a revolt on the part of the appointments committee, my position will convert, so let's deal with it now.  After waiting on Archer to make the appointment for a week (he volunteered to do it), I finally told him, "If you don't want to make the appointment, fine.  Tell me that.  I'll make it."  He made the appointment.
• Dr. English found me in the hallway yesterday and said, "Oh, hey, M, can you get me a writing sample?"  To which I said, "Um, sure."  And of course I can, but getting him a writing sample creates a bit of a problem because the most polished essay I have right now is the one I was planning to present at my interview.  So now that will be the writing sample, and I'm revising a different essay for the job talk.  I know I should have been prepared for this, but honestly, we've been talking about this process since October.  At no point did he ever mention a writing sample.  I stupidly assumed that since, you know, I've been working at CU for 3 1/2 years I might not need to submit one.  
• We leave on Saturday for a week in Home State.  Yetta has been great.  I said to Archer yesterday, "Wow, this is refreshing.  No one has called to tell us about plans or to say you have to be here at this time to do this. It's very nice."  Yes, well, I spoke too soon.  She called last night to say she's planned a family dinner for the only night I'm able to meet my best friend from high school (you know, the same friend whose wedding I was unable to attend, at least in part, because Yetta delayed making travel plans until the tickets to the out of the way location where the wedding was taking place were outrageous).  Yetta has already invited my brother and my parents to the family dinner, which is great, except I really want to see my friend.  So now I have to try to rearrange those plans.  Not a huge deal, but still it's annoying.
• Oh, and I'm really stressed out about how everyone will react to the pregnancy.  Archer told his brother last night, and he was, as usual, very supportive.  I think my parents will be fine, although surprised.  Yetta and Pita will be thrilled, but they will also be hurt that we waited so long to tell them.  They will also start asking when we're moving closer to Home State, and they will also say many, many things about wanting a girl.  
• I could go on and on, but you know, I'm tired.  I need to write.  So I'm going to put myself in the frame of mind to do that.

I'll say this here . . .

instead of Facebook, and there is a strong possibility that this post may disappear because, really, I'm not up for any kind of controversy.

That said, I find all the posts lambasting the organizers of the Grammys for asking Chris Brown to perform and the Grammy voters (who are the Grammy voters anyway?) a bit troubling.  Yes, he was convicted of battery.  Yes, he has admitted to beating the crap out of Rhiannon.  But, he served his time (probation, I think), attended court appointed counseling, and took anger management classes.  In our system, doesn't that mean he gets a second chance?  And given that he gets a second chance, doesn't that mean he gets the right to pursue his chosen career and, thus, succeed at it?

I do not think having him perform or even awarding him a Grammy is akin to saying his behavior was acceptable or that the Grammys (which is, apparently, some monolithic institution that influences every aspect of our society) condones his past behavior.  He did a terrible thing--a really, really terrible thing.  He was tried and convicted in a court of law, and as far as I know (and no, I'm not expert on the situation), he adhered to his sentence and fulfilled the terms of his punishment.  He deserves a second chance, at least in my opinion.  Why?  Well, I'm a big believer in therapy and anger management education, provided that one is working with a good therapist, is committed to therapy, and truly wants to learn how to control hir temper.  Why am I such a believer?  Well, it worked for my father.

*Edited on Feb. 15, 2012 to add: And clearly therapy doesn't work for everyone, as Chris Brown has demonstrated earlier this week.  Despite the obvious arrogance and just plain ignorance of this individual, I do believe that people, who make an honest effort to improve themselves, do deserve a second chance.

A confession, of sorts

For the past several months I've been obliquely referring to ongoing issues that I haven't been able to blog about--or, more accurately, that I haven't felt comfortable blogging about.  One issue was the process of converting my current appointment at CU to a tenure-track line.  For several months that conversion process was being discussed, but nothing firm was in place.  I was, thus, not comfortable discussing it until I knew that the process was going forward.  The other issue is a bit more personal and is loosely connected to my hesitancy to blog about the first issue.

I am currently 18 weeks pregnant.  I have not blogged about this previously, despite being a self-proclaimed academic mother, for several reasons.  First, and quite honestly, this was not a planned pregnancy.  I have previously blogged about the decision not to have a third child; despite my own desire for a third child, Archer and I decided a third child was not in the best interests of our family for a variety of reasons.  It seems, for me, that this decision was much more definite than I realized.  When I discovered I was pregnant last fall, it was unexpected.  To use the word shocked is accurate, although, in many ways, that word is not strong enough.  Without going into details, I will say that Archer had been waiting to get a referral to a urologist for several months (my one complaint about the Canadian healthcare system: if one is not deathly ill, it can takes months to see a specialist).  I also will say that I am well into my 30s, and I do know what causes pregnancy. Nonetheless, I was shocked.  I was terrified.  I was overwhelmed.  Archer was cautiously excited.  He was never completely comfortable with our decision to stop at two, so he was immediately happy, although well aware of the complications that come with another child.  I was not happy.  In fact, I spent the first two weeks of the pregnancy crying.  Sobbing is more accurate.  I contemplated ending the pregnancy, a decision that Archer hesitantly supported.  I had a long list of reasons as to why this was the most logical choice, and he admitted that he couldn't argue against my logic.  Despite his cautious happiness, he conceded that it made little sense to have a third child.  I even called my doctor to make the appointment, but ultimately, I couldn't do it.

Even almost three months later, I'm not sure I can explain why I didn't make that call.  I talked to two good friends, both of whom were incredibly supportive.  One friend, who had ended an unplanned pregnancy (under very, very different circumstances than mine), cautioned me that, even if I was sure in my decision, I would always wonder.  As I looked at Wild Man and Bear, I honestly wasn't sure I could deal with wondering when I already knew them.

Where am I now?  After many months of ambivalence, I'm slowly getting excited.  We've told very few people though.  Primarily because we opted to have genetic testing, in part because of my age and in part because I was not in a place to deal with any more surprises.  All of those tests have come back (these tests include an ultrasound and blood tests done at specific points in the first and second trimesters), and everything seems to be progressing normally.  We've both told our department chairs, and as you might expect, it's caused some complications to the interview process for me (which I'm sure I'll blog about later).  We've told Wild Man and Bear, and Wild Man is beyond excited.  Bear doesn't really seem to understand, although he is happy to talk to my growing bump.  Other than that, we've told about 10 or so close friends and my sister.  We are traveling to Home State next week for CU's spring break, and as we've never been able to tell our parents such news in person, we decided to tell them then.  I'll openly admit I've delayed telling them until the testing was done, as well as so I could get used to the idea. 

I'm still worried about how this will work.  Archer and I both have demanding jobs, and there are some days when I feel like we're barely keeping our heads above water with two careers and two children.  I'm worried that I won't be seen as a serious academic, especially by members of Research Department.  I'm worried about time and money and any number of things.  But when Wild Man launches into an argument as to why we should name the baby after his favorite Star Wars character, it is hard not to get excited.

*As an aside, to those of you who know me in real life, I'm sorry for coming out this way.  I am at a point where I feel the need to write about this as a way to process it all.  As I wrote above, our parents and extended families don't know yet, so please don't post about this on Facebook as I would hate for them to find out that way.

Working on the list

Today I've been hard at work on the list, you know, the one that never ends.   What have I done today?  I've finished putting together on a grant, one that involved much less work than the last one I submitted.*
I have met with three students, graded three papers, and answered countless emails.  I now need to grade about 12 more papers, but first, I'm off in search of caffeine.   

*I chose not to vet this one to the Research Guru before submitting it.  Why not?  Well, I don't really like RG, nor do I respect RG.  Further, this grant only funds conference travel, as such I didn't have to put together a lengthy proposal, so I didn't think I needed RG's feedback.  That may prove to be a mistake in the long run, but let me say my life has been less stressful knowing I didn't have to worry about RG's input. 

He's only 2 1/2

Bear, that is.  He is only 2 1/2.  But the potty humor has already started.  With Wild Man, I think we got a reprieve until 4.  No such luck with Bear.  This morning at breakfast, he looked at Wild Man and said, "Wild Man, do you have a penis?"  Apparently that is a joke in Bear's mind.  And Wild Man thought it was hilarious.  For the next 45 minutes, amidst getting dressed, packing backpacks, and brushing teeth, Bear would ask both Archer and Wild Man if they had penises.  Each of them, Archer included, would dissolve into giggles.  I was reminded by the reality of my life: I'm surrounded by little boys.

I live in a . . .

very loud house.  Wild Man and Bear are always talking--sometimes to me, sometimes to Archer, sometimes to each other.  They also talk to themselves all the time.  Sometimes I miss quiet.

A big deal

I rarely get caught up in politics to the extent that I engage in public debates with people or that I post something political on my Facebook page.  This week has been an exception.  I've been following the Susan G. Komen Foundation's decision to end funding to Planned Parenthood after this year's grant cycle really closely.  Why?  Well, PP means something to me, as does providing women with adequate health care.  I've been to PP before, and I fully support its mission.  It does so much more than offer abortions (in fact, only 3% of its total services are offering abortions), and I've gone to PP when I was new to an area and needed affordable health care.  I've had friends go there for birth control, pap smears, breast exams, and biopsies.  They have all reported receiving quality care and excellent counseling.  Given that most of these friends were uninsured undergrad and grad students at the time they went to PP, they were all thankful to receive such good care at a price they could afford. 

As for the Komen Foundation, there is a history of breast cancer in my family.  My great-grandmother survived breast cancer at a time the only treatment was a mastectomy, radiation, and prayer.  Add to the fact that she lived in a poor mining community in rural Appalachia, and she was damn lucky to survive.  I often think that her life would have been very different if she had access to the kind of health care PP offers women.  My aunt has also survived breast cancer.  I've worn pink ribbons, I've run in many "Race for the Cure" races, and I've supported their mission. 

So I followed the story closely and, perhaps, a bit rabidly.  I posted at least one thing about  on my Facebook page about the story every single day.  I also engaged in a public, albeit civilized, debate with my aunt about the story.  This aunt (who is the same aunt who survived breast cancer) is staunchly pro-life, and she viewed the decision to cut funding to PP as a pro-life decision (as an aside, I find it really interesting that in spite of trying to assure the public that this was not a decision motivated by the abortion debate most of those supporting the Komen Foundation's decision to stop funding PP did so on the basis of being pro-life).  She posted her support for the Komen Foundation, and I questioned the logic of the ruling.  She argued it was "saving lives" by cutting support to an organization that performs abortions, and I argued it was ironic to read the decision to stop providing funds for breast exams and general breast health as life saving in any way.  It was tense, but cordial, and it was telling how much the issue meant to both of us that we even broached it at all.

So it was a big deal to open my web browser and read the following headline: "Komen Cancer charity reverses, will fund Planned Parenthood."  To me, it was a very big deal.

The never-ending list

So far today has been really productive.  In fact, I've crossed 9 items off of my to-do list.  But it seems like I've added at least that many to the list.  I think I need a cookie to get me through the rest of the afternoon.

The Interview

As I wrote last week, the powers that be have finally decided to move forward with converting my current position to a tenure-track line.  And that means that I have to be interviewed.  In some ways, this is a formality, but in some ways it isn't.  The appointments committee has been convened to write a job ad for my position, although the position won't be advertised.  I have to submit a job letter, and I have to give a talk.  Both departments that I will be appointed in will be invited to attend.  The appointments committee, which will have representatives from both departments, will meet with me and interview me, and then they get to vote on my appointment.  They will receive feedback from members of both departments, and I've been warned to expect some aggressive questions at the talk.  But only the 6 members of the committee get to vote on my appointment.  So there are some risks.  I do, however, know most of the members of the committee, and most of them are friendly and cordial to me.  One has even gone out of her way to talk to me at every recent department meeting.  There are also other things occurring between the two departments which make the current role I play as a bridge of sorts increasingly important.  As an added bonus, I have training that no one in the English department has.  In an American university, this training wouldn't make much of a difference, but apparently in a Canadian setting it makes a huge difference. 

So that's where I am, and now I have to prepare a job talk.

Moving Forward

Yesterday I received an email from Dr. English asking me if we could meet later this week.  It seems the powers that be have finally decided to finalize the conversion of my current position.  As I wrote last year, my current appointment, although full-time with a research emphasis is not a T-T appointment.  I was "promised" last year that my position would convert to T-T.  Well, I've been hearing "It's going to happen soon, don't worry" for the last 9 months.  Archer has even been told by the dean that my line is already in the budget, so in the dean's mind, it was a done deal.  Except I know I have to give a talk and have an interview, both of which are little more than formalities.  For me, as long as those two things have yet to be done, I don't really feel like anything is a done deal.  And you know, I'd like to actually sign a contract.  I know Dr. Writing has been pushing this along, but academia moves at a glacial pace.  It seems now that I will be getting concrete information about how the conversion will proceed, including details about the interview and the talk.  I'm happy this is finally moving forward, but I'm still wary and cautious.  I don't think I'll believe any of this is happening until I've got a contract in my hands.

Too much information

So is it possible to tell someone, tactfully, that said person is a bit too interested in my private life?  Can I say I prefer to keep our relationship professional?  Or is that too harsh?  The person isn't taking my non-committal answers or evasiveness as a clue.  Instead, the person just continues asking questions that I feel are somewhat inappropriate given our relationship.  You see, this person is my TA (and yes, feel free to hate me for having a TA; I hate myself a little bit).  Given that, I don't feel it is appropriate for this person to ask about really personal stuff. Nor do I want to know really personal things about the TA.  For example, the TA just called me to say s/he's missing class.  Saying, "I'm not feeling well" is more than sufficient, but instead, this person felt the need to go into detail regarding the severity of the stomach flu that has afflicted hir.  For real.  I don't need to know that.   Just sayin'.

Taking a guess

For the past few weeks I've been working on a grant application to develop a new course.  I'm a bit inexperienced at writing these sorts of proposals within a university setting, so when I sent off my first (actually my fourth or so) draft to the guru of research, I had made some fairly key mistakes.  RG told me s/he didn't think I would have time to get it together by the internal deadline, which is today.  I was irritated--at myself, at him, and at his comments, where were not helpful for revising.  So I talked to Archer who has applied for and been awarded this exact grant, and then I talked to a colleague who has also been awarded this grant.  She generously allowed me to look at her application.  Then I spent all day Wednesday, much of Thursday, and all day Friday reworking the proposal.  Archer kept the boys occupied on Saturday so I could get the final touches done.  I sent it back to RG and to Research Department chair.  RD Chair responded almost immediately with some minor suggestions; s/he wanted me to add a few sentences and take out some other things.  I finished those edits on Sunday morning in 10 minutes.  As of last night I still hadn't heard from RG, making me think that RG was going to tell me not to submit the application. 

RG sent me a long email and edits this morning.  Based on the email I expected the edits to be huge.  They are not.  RG made very few changes, and RG wrote that the application is now worthy of consideration.  I'm irritated again.  Why?  The changes I made are not substantial.  I rewrote two sections entirely, and I provided a lengthy narrative for the budget.  The proposal itself, however, is essentially the same.   I am beginning to think that RG didn't think I'd be able to get all the supporting documentation together--which I already had.  I just didn't realize I needed to send it to RG with the proposal.  Even if my proposal isn't awarded, I'm feeling vindicated.  I suspect RG thought I'd just give up.  Guess what?  RG was wrong.

Worth Sharing

I'm rereading parts of The Country of Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett in preparation for a class I'll teach later today.  Here is a quotation worth sharing: "We don't want to carry no men folks havin' to be considered every minute an' takin' up all our time."  I love Jewett.

Jealous

Yesterday Archer spoke with Yetta.  She and Pita were keeping R's boys so R could catch on some work and J (R's soon-to-be ex-wife) could go to the gym.  Archer and I both had work to do, but as mine was more pressing, Archer took the boys to Home Depot and the bookstore for a few hours so I could get some work done.  When they got home, I kept the boys busy with an art project so Archer could read for a bit.  Dropping the boys off at someone's house for a few hours just so we can have some time to ourselves is not an option.  When I heard that R had done this for the umpteenth weekend in a row, I was jealous.  Not that I want to live in the same town as my in-laws, mind you, but sometimes I would like to hang out with my husband on the weekend while not having to manage the chaos of watching two very active boys at the same time.

Silence

Archer took the boys out so I could have some quiet time to finish the grant I'm working on.  I don't think I've ever been alone in our house on a Saturday.  I must say the silence is a bit disconcerting.

Traveling to Home State

This morning I was up early with Bear, as usual.  So I was double checking prices for travel associated with the grant I'm writing and printing off info from various websites.  Out of curiosity, I checked on tickets to Home State during spring break.  Surprisingly the tickets are actually affordable; they are, in fact, imminently affordable.  Archer had already spoken with Yetta about the possibility of us visiting then, and she offered to buy the boys' tickets.  So it looks like we'll get to visit our families for the cost of 2 tickets, or $500.  Not a bad price.  Plus we get to fly and can only stay a week because the visit happens in the middle of the semester.  Not bad all around.

A gripe about academia

I have rarely used this blog to gripe about academia even though I define myself, at least in part, as an academic mother.  I don't gripe because I don't see it as productive.  I also don't gripe because I more or less knew what I was getting into when I entered a Ph.D. program.  I knew jobs in academia, particularly the humanities were hard to come by.  Contrary to popular belief, this is not a result of the downturn in the economy; jobs have been hard to come by in academia for 2 generations or more.  My primary mode of survival is to get the job done to the best of my ability and to redirect the energy I could spend griping doing other things.  Not griping does not mean that I don't think academia has problems; in fact, I think it has serious ones.  One that is bothering me the most right now is the lack of mentorship.

Now as I've written about before I am situated between two departments.  What I haven't discussed is that one department is very research focused; it was, in fact, considered one of the flagship departments of the university until about 10 years ago.  It is still highly respected, and almost every faculty member has held a major research grant at some point.  It has a lot to brag about, and brag it does.  The other department would be seen as a service department at many comparable institutions in the States.  It is staffed almost exclusively by part-time faculty members.  It has an excellent reputation on campus for knowing what kinds of classes students want to take and for offering the right class at the right time.  It is also the only department in the faculty that is growing, and it is growing a lot.  Its enrollment has increased by 40% in 3 years.  While it lacks a research profile (primarily because there are only 3 1/2 full-time faculty members in the program, and yes, I'm the 1/2), it is a department that is respected across campus. 

Now my home department, as it were, is the Research department because there is a support structure in place to help me develop a research profile.  Also my own research aligns more closely with Research department, although my teaching overlaps neatly between the two.  From Service department, so-to-speak, I am not supposed to receive much in the way of support, other than teaching.  While I have received a lot of support from Service department in terms of teaching and structural support, I have received nothing in the way of mentorship from Research department.  There is supposed to be a mentorship program in place, and I was supposed to receive a mentor at the beginning of the academic year.  I did not, though. 

Part of this is my fault.  I have not actively sought anyone out, nor have I pressed the department head to assign me a mentor.  Much of this is the culture of the department, and much of it is due to the liminal space I occupy between departments.  The people with whom my research area overlaps don't really know me; this is due, at least in part, because I'm not required to do any service in Research department.  I perform all my service for Service department because it has so few full-time faculty members.  I show up for all department meetings, but I don't serve on any committees for Research department.  I don't say much at department meetings because I'm still trying to understand how things work.  I recognize and accept responsibility for all of this.  I've done a few things in the past 6 weeks or so to build relationships in the department.  I working on making it better for myself.

The problem I'm experiencing seems to me to be problem inherent to academia.  Mentorship is not a priority in many academic institutions.  While this is a topic that is often discussed in the Chronicle of Higher Ed, I'm not sure it is something academics take seriously.  We often seem to take the attitude, "Well, I didn't have a mentor, and I managed okay.  Why should I take on the responsibility of mentoring someone else?"  This is the "I suffered through, so should everyone else" mentality, and I think it only serves to create more problems.  I'm not sure what the solution is, but I do know I'm going to start being more assertive and seeking out help when I need it.  That isn't a solution for the entire academy, but it may be a solution for me.

Grants, grants, and more grants

I'm putting the finishing touches on one research grant, and I've already been advised to apply for another.  It seems, according to Dr. English, that I have a knack for grant writing.  I didn't say, "Well, duh.  I worked as a professional grant writer for 2 years before returning to graduate school."  Instead, I just said, "Thanks!"  I really wanted to say that writing grants is all well and good, but if doing so takes away from writing for publication I'm not sure I see the point.

Clothes: A Mini Rant

I have a closet full of clothes, most of them I like, some of them I really like, some of them I keep because they are functional.  I like my summer wardrobe a lot better than my winter wardrobe, but I do enjoy my sweaters.  Today was one of those mornings that nothing that I put on looked right.  I even picked out what I was going to wear last night.  But I put it on, and I wanted to scream.  I then proceeded to change my clothes 4 times in 15 minutes because nothing looked or felt right.  I finally settled on a dress I love but that I normally wear in the fall not the winter.  Why?  Well it has short sleeves and I have yet to find a sweater or a jacket that looks nice with it.  So I'm wearing a dress I love with a cardigan that doesn't really go with it, and as a bonus, my tights seem to have shrunk.  I'm not particularly happy with the way I look, nor am I very comfortable.  I think it is going to be a long day.

Oh, and I just realized I forgot to put on my watch.

Tomorrow . . .

life goes back to normal.  Wild Man goes back to kindergarten, Archer and I go back to teaching, and Bear, well Bear will continue to be Bear.

This semester promises to be challenging for all kinds of reasons, some of which I may get to blog about, finally.  Right now, I'm enjoying the sunshine that is streaming into our family room, the smell of banana muffins fresh from the oven, and watching Bear yawn (he just woke up for a nap that was a bit shorter than usual).

Happy New Year!

I think that says it all!

We're celebrating with Thai food. . .