"Memed"

I've never "memed" before, but since Supadiscomama tagged me, I'll give it a shot!

4 Jobs I've had
--cashier at TJ Maxx
--underpaid and abused admin assistant for film production company
--slide room assistant (yes that is where I met my art historian husband)
--grant writer

4 places I've lived
--Military Base in western state (where I was born)
--Home State (where my parents still live)
--New England College Town
--College Town

4 favorite foods (I love to eat and to cook, so this is a tough one!)
--Sushi
--Crab Cakes from my favorite restaurant in Home State
--really good mozzarella sticks (I can't resist fried cheese!)
--tomatoes

4 places I'd rather be
--on the beach with S and C
--London
--Seville, Spain
--Home Town, but only if I can go there without having to deal with any of the typical familial obligations!

4 movies I can watch over and over (This is apt to change given my mood, but here's what I could watch right now.)
--Out of Africa
--Love Actually (Liam Neeson's character and his son make me smile.)
--Little Miss Sunshine (I love, love, love this movie!)
--To Kill a Mockingbird

4 TV shows I like to watch
--Sex and the City, Seasons 4 and 5 especially (I have them all on DVD I must confess.)
--Big Love
--What Not to Wear (I desperately want C to nominate me for the show, but he won't do it!)
--Little People, Big World

4 websites I view daily
--my blogroll
--msnbc
--For Better or For Worse strip fix (I've read it since I was a kid, so don't mock me too much.)
--The Edith Wharton Society (since I'm trying to write my Wharton chapter, I go here for inspiration)

4 computers I've owned
--the Compaq Presario I bought in 1998 when I started my MA
--the laptop I'm using at this moment
--that's it!

4 people to tag
--Lilian at Mama(e) in Translation
--kate at a k8, a cat, a mission
--Working Writing Wailing Mama
--Jennie at My Handful

Rejoining the Blog World

I just learned that my friend, Supadiscomama, has rejoined the blogging world! We're so happing to have you back!

Another Realization

Last night, C and I talked about my work for a change. Rather than discuss the job market for art historians, I said, "I want to talk about what I did today." So I started talking about two characters from two different novels that I'm writing on. One of my chapters is on Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth, but I also want to discuss The Age of Innocence. My discussion of The House of Mirth focuses on Lily's longing for home and how this longing conflicts with her refusal to marry. I argue that Lily places herself in an interstitial space as she is neither able to accept her societal position and marry for money nor is she able to reject her position and support herself. Lily wants both the financial security that marriage can provide and personal freedom, which marriage doesn't guarantee. Her only viable option to escape her interstitial existence is to make her own money, an endeavor at which she repeatedly fails. Her refusal to come to terms with the circumstances of her class and her life trap her in an interstitial existence. Unable to transgress the interstitial spaces (both physical and metaphoric) in which she lives, she is unable to achieve what she really wants: a home and an identity of her own.

I've thought for a long time that Lily and Ellen Olenska, of The Age of Innocence, are a lot a like. Both live in interstitial spaces, and like Lily, Ellen has the means to escape hers, but actively chooses not to. But Ellen is not as doomed as Lily, and it has taken me a while to figure out why. Last night as I was telling C that I wasn't sure I could discuss these two novels in the same chapter, which bothered me because I think it makes more sense to discuss both Wharton novels in the same chapter, I suddenly realized that Ellen has been married. She has experienced the life that Lily has so ardently avoided. Her knowledge of marriage and its failings allows her to support herself in a way that Lily cannot. Granted, Ellen supports herself by convincing her grandmother to give her an allowance not by working, but Ellen doesn't compromise herself in the ways that Lily does. I haven't completely figured it out, but my hunch is that Ellen's first hand knowledge of marriage and the fact that she's been rejected by New York society enable her to embrace her interstitiality rather than fight against it as Lily does.

So I'm feeling better about work, and I'm beginning to feel inspired again.

Getting Work Done

So after the week's earlier post, I'm getting more work done, although I'm not over my frustration and I don't know if I will be. I have finished rereading and taking copious notes on one of the primary texts I'm writing on though, which makes me feel better.

I had something of an epiphany last night, but as with most of my epiphanic moments, I'm not sure what to do with it. I suddenly realized that C is done with his dissertation--seems stupid I know, as I've been posting about his completion for weeks. But now that he's finished that means I actually have more time to work than I have had. Rather than trying to cram everything into the week, including teaching, grading, and writing, I can now work on the weekends. I haven't done much more than answer emails on the weekends since S was born primarily because C used every available minute to finish his dissertation. I've spent the weekends occupying S so that C could work--this, of course, wasn't true of every weekend, but it was true of a great many of them. That realization is equally liberating and frightening. I no longer have C's dissertation as an excuse for not getting my own work done.

I've also discovered that I've spent so much time talking about C's work that I'm out of practice talking about mine. In an attempt to correct that problem, I am not going to ask C about his day this evening at dinner as I typically do. We're just going to talk about what I did today. I have to get back into the habit of thinking of myself as an academic. I like being an academic. I want to be an academic. I just have to remember what being an academic feels like.

S's first birthday

I just learned that in addition to my mother and brother C's mother and sister will be visiting us the week of S's first birthday. Need I say more?

Annoying Parents

When I dropped S off at school this morning, I was told that one of his classmates had a fever of 101.5, and that the teachers were unable to get in touch with her parents--i.e., the parents weren't answering their cell phones and weren't returning class. These parents make me so angry because this isn't the first time they've done this. How can you take your child to school with a fever? And I could look at the little girl and tell she was sick. She had the glassy-eyed look babies get when they have a fever. I don't understand this model of parenting. Her parents often do this, and their excuse is that they can't take time off of work because they just bought a house. I understand the financial need to work, but I don't understand not wanting to care for your baby.

Dissertation Frustration

I'm experiencing Dissertation Frustration. Last night, after a great weekend (S & I threw C a surprise graduation party, and we truly surprised him), I had a long cry. I've been struggling with some feelings the past few weeks, and last night was the first night I let myself talk about them. Here's the issue: I'm not getting as much done as I'd like to be getting done. I have a million reasons why not: I taught a summer course; I haven't read enough and don't feel ready to write; we moved; and I could go on I'm sure. But I'm having doubts, not about my ability to complete the dissertation and to get a tenure-track job, but about my desire to do so. Every week day morning, I drop S off at school, and I feel miserable leaving him. It isn't the same visceral misery I felt when he first started going to school (yes, it is a total euphemism for daycare, but it makes me feel better), but it is there. I'd simply rather be with him. I get enough work done every day to justify having him in school, but I don't get as much done as I'd like. Altogether I've written about 20 pages, and it doesn't all go together and none of it is particularly good at this point. I find myself daydreaming about staying home with S all the time.

I expressed these fears to C, and he was a bit baffled, to say the least. I'm the ambitious one in the relationship; for a while, he actually thought I'd finish before he did. But somewhere in the past few months, I've lost my motivation, and I'm not sure how to get it back.

Pet peeves

Like everyone, I have lots of pet peeves, and I've just had to deal with two big ones this evening--both connected to my husband.

C had several make-up softball games tonight, so I was on dinner, bath, and bedtime duty by myself. The evening went smoothly until I started nursing S before his bedtime. As usual, he instantly fell asleep, although not soundly. After about 15 minutes of nursing on one side, I switched him to the other, as I typically do. For some reason, tonight he woke up screaming and screamed for 15 minutes. This in itself is not unheard of although it is somewhat unusual. I managed to get him calmed down and nursing again, but every 10 minutes or so he would thrash and cry for a few minutes. I tried walking him, I tried rocking him, and nothing worked. So after 45 minutes without any luck, I finally gave in and called C, as I knew both games were over and he was likely drinking beer in the parking lot of the softball field, and told him the situation, and asked him to come home and give me a hand. The first pet peeve: I do not like to ask for help. I especially do not like to ask for help when I know my husband is surrounded by a bunch of other beer-drinking men, many of whom do not have children. I know a lot of these guys--I used to play softball with them myself--so I can only imagine the hard time they gave C about being called home. I know that is all macho crap and doesn't really mean much, but I still hate that I had to call him to ask for help.

So he came home, and he was able to do what I couldn't--he successfully rocked S to sleep in about 15 minutes with minimal crying. For some reason, S refuses to let me rock him to sleep. It's nursing until he's asleep or nothing. Once C was done and fairly certain S wasn't going to wake up, I told him if he wanted to go back out that was ok with me. Second pet peeve: he said you don't want me to, do you? Well, dear husband, I wouldn't have said it was ok if it wasn't. He then proceeded to say he didn't want to go, and then he decided he did after finding out if one of his friends was still at the ball park. Then he asked me at least three more times if it was all right with me if he went, which increasingly irritated me. He eventually did go back out, but only after he had really annoyed me. I hate it when he doesn't take me at my word. When I asked him why he had to question me, he gave me a very lame answer: "I'm stupid." I hate that sort of response as much as his need to think I'm not telling him the truth.

I try very hard not to be the sort of wife who makes her husband figure out what she means. If I wanted him to stay home and hang out with me, I wouldn't have told him to go drink beer in a parking lot, and I would have asked him to stay home.

To be or not to be. . .

Yesterday while finalizing his fall syllabi, C faced a problem he's never faced before: what does he want his students to call him? Now that he has finished his doctorate he wasn't sure what he wanted to be called: Dr. C or Prof. C. I voted for Dr. C, but he is partial to Prof. C, as art historians are more often called Prof. While this isn't a serious dilemma, he is in an interesting position with his students. C is fairly casual in the classroom and has often let his students call him by his first name--something I never do. I love that we can have this conversation because it means he is FINISHED with his dissertation!!!!

A new semester

We're now officially moved, and surprisingly, most things are unpacked. S proved very helpful over the weekend; as long as he had his own box to unpack (which means he pulled things out of the box and put them right back in) he was happy. This activity enabled C and I to get quite a bit done.

Now I have to get ready for the upcoming semester. I'm teaching an on-line technical writing course again, so I'm beginning the annoying process of updating the course website. I haven't done this part of it before, so I'm hoping it doesn't prove too irritating.

On the blog front, I've been thinking about several posts, and I hope to have them up in the next few days.

Moving

I have moving, but I do love the prospect of having a completely organized house. Of course with S, I'm sure that organization will last all of a week--or less. Today is the big day, so I'm off to get moving.

"How Much Jail Time?"

In her most recent column in Newsweek, Anna Quindlen poses the compelling question: "How much jail time would we give a woman who had an abortion if abortion were criminalized?" I find the question compelling for the same reason Quindlen does--when ani-abortion activists are asked this question, they are wholly unable to answer the question. It seems they haven't thought beyond the act of criminalizing aboriton. As Quindlen rightly points out, if abortion is criminalized, then women who nonetheless seek abortions are criminals and should face jail time, yet the people arguing for criminalizing abortion miss this logical flaw.

Sleep Training: More Progress

Since my last post, C & I have continued with the "console and retreat" method, and we'd settled into a routine of sorts. S goes down for the night between 7:30 & 8:00, generally without incident. He wakes up at 12:30 or thereabouts, and after about 20 minutes, he puts himself back to sleep. He then wakes up at 4:30 or 5:00 to nurse and goes back to sleep until 7:00 or so. If he sleeps much past 7:00, one of us wakes him up by 7:30 to keep him on a schedule. It isn't an ideal schedule by any stretch, but it is much better than the 3 or 4 times he was waking up, and now, he will go back to sleep without nursing. I choose to nurse him when he wakes up the second time because by then he's gone almost 9 hours without nursing.

Last night he slept from 8:00 until 5:39 without waking up!!!! When he woke up, he didn't cry; he called "mamamamamama," which is as close to "Mama" as he has gotten. He nursed for 20 minutes and went back to sleep until 7:15. I, of course, woke up at 3:00 in a complete panic and lied in bed for 10 minutes trying to hear him breathe on the monitor! I really wanted to go into his room to check on him, but I didn't. I haven't felt this rested in a long time!

Mothers and Mothers-in-law

I have a fairly problematic relationship with my mother (but who doesn't, right?), which, in the past, I've discussed with my mother-in-law. My mother recently did something incredibly stupid and very unhealthy, which I'm still angry about (it is one of the few things I'm not comfortable blogging about, so forgive me if I don't go into a lot of detail). C briefly mentioned this to his mother as my mother's actions resulted in me asking her to delay a visit to see us. My mother-in-law, with whom I also have a problematic relationship, promptly called me to let me know she was there if I needed her. While I appreciate the sentiment, I no longer talk about my parents with C's mom--under any circumstances. It is simply too complicated and, quite frankly, comes back to bite me in the ass more often than not. I thanked her and changed the subject. A few days after that she lamented to C that she doesn't understand me, my relationship with my mother, or what I want from her (C's mom). C relayed this to me only because he was as flabbergasted as I was. She implied (and confirmed the implication when C questioned her) that because I have a difficult relationship with my mother that I should just see her as a replacement. I have no idea what to make of that or where she would get that idea from. I love my mother-in-law, but she isn't my mother. I don't want her to be my mother, nor do I, in spite of my problems with my own mother, want her to start thinking of herself as my mother. She's said things like this in the past about my sister-in-law--"J's mother is so terrible; I don't understand why she doesn't let me and our family do more for her. . ." Can she really expect her sons' wives to favor her over our own mothers?

Mothering an adult

I've been thinking a lot about the kind of mother I want to be to an adult child, and while I have a long way to go before S is an adult, I'm going to write a series of posts on this topic. I have various issues with my own mother (as well as my mother-in-law), and I want to avoid these issues if at all when S is an adult. I've been contemplating writing a list of things not to do when S is an adult, and that list would include:

• Do not be passive-aggressive; tell adult S how I feel directly.
• Do not expect adult S to parent me.
• Do not force adult S to be "my best friend."
• Do not make adult S feel guilty for living his own life.
• Take pride in the fact that adult S is happy and well-adjusted (I am, of course, assuming he will be).
• Do not expect adult S to put me before his own family.
• Do not expect adult S's life-partner (assuming he has a life-partner) to put me before his/her own family.
• Learn to like S's life-partner's family and get along with them to the best of my ability.
• If unable to do above, do not bad mouth S's life-partner's family to S.
• Offer help and advice to adult S, but do not be offended if he chooses not to take my help or advice.
• Do not ask S what his plans for holidays are some 6 months prior to those holidays.
• Above all, do be loving, kind, thoughtful, and supportive of adult S. Remember, adults often need their parents too.

I think that is a good start, and I may periodically add to it. I want to be the sort of parent that an adult enjoys being around. I want to have an open, pleasant, truthful relationship with my son, no matter what his age is. I definitely do not want to put him in the position of defending me or explaining my hurtful actions to someone he really loves.

Announcing Dr. C!

C successfully defended his dissertation! He now has to make some minor editing changes and file it! HOORAY!!!

Drive-by mastectomies

Academama brought this issue to my attention, so following suit, I thought I'd pass along the information. Several relatives of mine have survived breast cancer, and I can't imagine them being forced to undergo a mastectomy on an out-patient basis. Please take a minute to sign the petition against this bill.

I need a . . .

vacation. So I'm taking a virtual vacation. If I could be anywhere in the world today, I would be here, walking through one of my favorite parks in my favorite city in the world with C & S. Then we'd go here, so we could look at The Arnolfini Wedding Portrait by Jan Van Eyck, which is one of my favorite paintings. Well, at least I can dream about taking a London vacation.

One step closer

C leaves tomorrow for his defense, so we're one step closer to being a family with one doctorate rather than a family with two dissertations.

I'm actually glad it's Monday. . .

After a horrible weekend, I'm actually glad it's Monday. C came home Friday night, after a much needed night out with "the guys," to discover our cat Minnie was having trouble breathing. After waking me up to consult and making a few frantic phone calls, he took her to the university's vet school, which has emergency hours. On Saturday morning, we spoke with the vet who was treating her; the news was not good. Our sweet little girl has advanced heart disease, and while it is treatable, she isn't expected to live more than a year. She is only 2 1/2 years old. We're both devastated.

We adopted her long before we decided to have children, so in some ways, we think of her as our oldest child. She also has a genetic deformity in her front legs called "curvus radius," which makes her look like a bulldog. She has had a hard time walking since she was full grown, but she has always been an active, lovable cat. Truth be told, she hasn't responded well to S because she prefers to initiate playtime rather than to have an 8-month-old crawl after her, but she still sought C and I out for lots of attention. I feel confident that she will receive the best possible care with this vet (and I feel incredibly lucky to attend this university--we have access to some of the best veterinary care in the country), but I'm heartbroken. We both spent most of Saturday evening in a daze, and when we brought her home yesterday, we both kept checking on her incessantly. C even got up several times in the night to check on her.

On top of this, C leaves tomorrow for his dissertation defense, and his advisor has already told him he should expect to make substantial editorial changes (have I ever mentioned how much I hate this woman?). I have to handle teaching, taking care of S, and getting Minnie back to the vet on Thursday for a recheck. When I called to make her appointment with the cardiologist this morning, I was told that I was being worked in, so I should expect to be there all day long. The appointment time is in the morning, about an hour before I go and nurse S at school, so I have no idea what I'm going to do about that. I don't feel comfortable asking someone to take Minnie to the vet for me, but I don't want S to miss the nursing session either, as I'm afraid that may throw his entire day off. I've decided to cancel my class, so that is one less thing I have to worry about. I really just want to rewind and make Minnie better.

I know there are people who will disagree with me and those out there (my mother among them) who will question going this far for "an animal," but she is so much more than a pet to us. We refer to her and our other cat as S's "older sisters,." A bit weird, I know, but we constantly tell him to "play nice" with his sisters. I do think of these two girls as my babies. We adopted her at a time when we were both beginning to think about having children, and shortly after we got her, my biological clock went into overdrive. She became the baby we didn't have yet, and when we adopted a second cat, we felt like a family. I was antsy all day Saturday because I knew she was in a strange place being poked and prodded; we went to see her for a few minutes, and I felt horrible leaving her. I wanted to be with her, much like I would want to be with S if he was in the hospital. I just wish I could make her better.