Merry Christmas (for real)

Saturday night I finished some whirlwind gift preparations, kissed Ben and drove off into the darkness. I was surprised at the number of other cars on the road, given that it was 11 pm on Christmas Eve. As I turned onto the little street just across the river, I looked up at the old Catholic church that the poorest people in our community at the time (Irish canal workers - some of them related to me distantly) built in the 1850s. It was the only thing lit in the darkness, with beautiful wreaths hanging over the doors and stained-glass windows. I couldn't help but slow down to look at it as I drove by to turn into the parking lot.

The feeling of sacrifice, beauty, dedication, and ceremony attached to that building has always impressed and inspired me. I snuck in just as the choir was finishing their first song, and settled into the pew next to my mom and step-dad......my aunt and her children followed about five minutes later (their dad was already there conducting and soloing in the choir - thank goodness for his "Oh, Holy Night"). I love that even though only some of our motley family group are actually Catholic, the choir members always smile when they see us and welcome us for the music. And oh, the music. It's just beautiful. The choir in Gran's little parish practices like no Mormon ward choir I've ever heard. The men do more than their share of carrying, and the acoustics in the building amplify the sound. So we sat blissfully reveling in music, and singing our part in carols.

My favorite part of midnight mass is when they ring the bells to herald the "official" start of things. This year instead of only ringing the bells for a few chimes each, they rang them through the entire first verse of Silent Night. I felt the Spirit so strongly, it was a wonderful way to begin my Christmas mindfulness. Usually I stay for mass, but since we actually had a Christmas service this year (I think it's funny that Mormons, who in my experience attend church much more regularly than their Catholic counterparts, are much less likely to be in church on Christmas itself because of the only-on-Sunday service thing) I crept out just after the processional and the first hymn.

Sunday morning we practiced our family musical number, which we managed to pull together at the last minute. I managed to learn the rather difficult accompaniment and play it with only three mistakes, and the gifted singers in my husband's family all complemented each other nicely.

The worshipful music I participated in served as the perfect counterpoint for the running to and fro that we did to make it to family functions in four different places. It was quite the day, and I think could have been very stressful. But the kids held together well, and we managed to make it. All through the day I went back to that midnight "Silent Night" with ringing bells and Mary's iconic image at the front of the church, holding her newborn baby. And I was both awed and grateful.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

I'll do another, for real post later.

For now, this comic is hilarious:

http://www.phdcomics.com/comics/archive.php?comicid=1457

Enjoy! And Merry Christmas!

Working women are not disobedient

Or at least, their working is not what makes them so.

I'm up in arms over a 1993 talk by President Packer that I just read where he repeats the "women should only work when they have no other choice" routine.

May I just say. I have a choice. Here it is.

1) Live in a tiny house/apartment downtown in a big city (thus saving on rent and only needing one car because of access to public transportation) that we would either not own or have no hope of reselling because of the condition that a one-salary price-range necessitates. Use government assistance for health care and utilities, perhaps even for food. Send the kids to an inner-city school district with high incidence of violence and higher dropout rates. Build no savings and leave Ben working into his 70s.

2) Live in a modest house we will own in 15 years in a small, relatively rural suburb, with high hopes to resell because it's a growing area. Pay for our own health insurance and utilities (but not cable TV or satellite because, well, I hate its influence). Buy healthy, whole foods that I can make into good, nutritious meals from scratch, knowing that they're not laced with additives and pesticides. Send the kids to a school with good test scores and dedicated teachers, most of whom grew up in the area and are personally invested in the school district because their kids attend. Pay off student loans and build savings to retire early.

Given the choice, I'll take number two. And I only have to work two days a week to make the difference. I think it's easy for Church leaders, speaking from the relative privilege that most of them have enjoyed during their lives, to miss this conundrum.

And yes, I know, if there were fewer women in the work force then men would make more because labor would be in higher demand and all that blah blah blah. But. That's not the way it is. And my leaving the work force will not make it so. And I'm not willing to sacrifice my children's future just so that I can have the "Stay At Home Mom" label. Especially when the difference is so easily made - the kids spend the days I work with family members and at school.

And yes, I know, the Church leaders have to speak generally so as to teach correct principles and let us be guided by personal revelation. They can't cover every exception. And yet. People (even leader-type people) in the Church tend to look down on us "working mothers," without much concern over the time and energy that we've put into working out a balance that works for us and, as far as we can tell, Heavenly Father.

So. Please, just let people work it out. Please don't make snide comments or put yourself up as the authority about The Right Way To Do Things. I don't criticize you for medicating your kids because you don't feel like dealing with them, for feeding them frozen or prepackaged foods, for choosing to not seek medical care in borderline cases in the interest of saving money....etc etc etc. It's your life, your choice, and I welcome you to it.

Now can you let me make mine?

Thanks.

Exams

Much as I hated taking them as a student, I think the instructor gets the raw end of the deal.

For example, yesterday my students presented me with 37 6-page exams (1 page an essay), and 47 5-page exams (.5 page an essay). That's a total of 457 pages, 60.5 of which are essays.

I spent three hours yesterday grading, and another today, and have finished 3 pages of the set of 37, for a total of 111 pages graded.

That means I have yet to complete 346 pages.

Doing the math (are you impressed that my language-y self can do math?), that's 27.75 pages per hour, or 2 minutes per page. Which means that I have 692 minutes of grading yet to come.

Yeah, that's 11.5 hours.

Even if you think strictly in terms of time invested, exams are worse for teachers. But beyond that, there's the fact that grading is almost mindless in its monotony. Gets tiring very quickly.

I think the possible exception to this rule is PhD qualifying examinations, and I might be willing to stretch the exception to cover MA exams.

Happy end-of-semester, everyone! Once I'm done grading, maybe I'll post about something interesting.

One of those days

Today was one of those days. In a good way.

I had a meeting with my advisor this weekend, excellent stuff. She's pleased with dissertation progress/direction. She liked my suggestion that will end up saving me some writing and headache. And is not worried that I have no interest in being on the job market this year. Both of those things sort of shocked and amazed me. Turns out, she's just happy that I've found a place that lets me teach higher-level courses, and that I like their teaching philosophy.

So I've been sort of soaring from that.

We got the tree up (I think Ben should do a post on it, since he nobly fought the battle of the enormous Christmas tree), and all but the top 3 feet decorated. Yeah, you read that right. We need to borrow Dad's super-tall ladder to finish off. And we need more lights. Because the tree is 11 feet tall. HA! I love it. We went out to Gran's to pick it out, then after much planning, sweat, and valiant effort on Ben's part (with some help from my brother), it's ours. We'd never have been able to buy a tree this size, I was so grateful to Gran for letting us swipe one. And while we were planning for a big tree, we did NOT do a good job of estimating its size. So that's been a surprise that caused some work and crisis....but now that we're mostly settled it's really nice to sit and stare at the lights. Reminds me of getting up in the middle of the night at Christmas-time, wandering downstairs, and settling on the couch to sleep for a while....as often as not another sibling, or Mom even, was there. It was nice. And still is.

On top of that, I got a whole pile of grading done, went ahead and knocked out this round of grocery shopping, dropped off the Goodwill donations and the recycling, cleaned the house, did all the laundry (bright and shining moment! Everything was clean and put away for a whole four hours!), and got dinner done in time for Ben to get home.

And now we've got the kids settled and we're going to watch a movie.

Pretty much the best day in ages.

Grading

It's always bad. Just as bad. Whether you're a student with two sections or an instructor with four.

The pile never ends, you never get caught up. And after a round or two, you could almost assign grades based on the student's trend.

For those few times that someone surprises me, I read each and every word of each and every assignment, and even offer corrections (even though research shows that most students look at the grade and then toss the assignment without any effort at incorporating changes in the future).

And I can't even hope that they'll be grateful, since they're unaware.

Oh well. Three more teaching days, two more compositions, one more exam, then final grades. Then I get a break!

To write a dissertation chapter.

*sigh*

Bee

I just have to say, I'm so proud.

She's downstairs singing with Petunia and Larry from Veggie Tales, and she's switching octaves depending on which one is singing.

Hooray for a 5-year-old with specific pitch distinction!

Foretelling the future

In the interests of doing absolutely EVERYTHING I can think of to put off writing on the dissertation today(I already cleaned the whole house, complete with kids' rooms and closets, wrote Christmas lists, worked on Christmas lodging logistics for visitors, etc), here's a blog post.

No seriously. I'm glad for Thanksgiving, because it gives me a specific day to think about all the things that are happening in my life, both good and bad.

Last year we had not yet heard about Ben's job. I jokingly sent Christmas lists (which we compile to distribute at my aunt Pat's Thanksgiving gathering) that said "Ben: a job in Ohio. Me: a house in Ohio. Bee: a pig in Ohio. J: a dog in Ohio."

I had no way of knowing then that it would come true. Except the pig (Bee's favorite animal), but that's by design. It's been so nice to be near family, to have the kids get to play out at Gran's and T's, to be able to just drop in places for an hour or so, to do family dinners on Sunday with various people.....it's been a good year.

Finding a teaching job has been great, too. I've managed to keep busy and adjust to a new schedule, Bee is doing GREAT in a new school environment, and J is getting the hang of using words. I credit his time at the campus childcare center, because when he's at home his sister obligingly gives him what he wants when he does the "point and grunt" routine, despite my objections.

We've had some difficult things, too, but I think that's just life. I'm happy to be safe, healthy, near people I love, and watching my kids grow in very positive ways. That's not to say that it couldn't be better - there's always the wish list of things to come. But for now, we just couldn't be better.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Childbirth

I've seen some hype in the media about the birth scene from the new "Twilight" movie.

As a disclaimer - all I've read of the books is what snatches I skimmed while pretending to read so that I'd have a cover for watching potential shoplifters at my old BYU bookstore job. From this I gathered that the story premise was pretty cool, but the simple sentence structure and the nauseating co-dependency of the hero and heroine completely erased the appeal of it for me. I don't mean this to be a review of the books, since I've not read them in their entirety.

Back to the childbirth scene. Because I'm somewhat (you know, just a bit) fascinated by women's issues, childbirth and breastfeeding in particular, the headlines about the birth scene in the new movie caught my attention. Out of curiosity, I read just the chapters immediately surrounding and including the birth scene, and was shocked by the amount of blood, the overall tense feeling of the narrative, and the inevitable association of death with the childbirth experience.

There were things that resonated with my experience with birth - Bella wanting to immediately hold the baby, the "it doesn't matter what happens to me, save the baby!" feeling.

But. So much of it was so overwhelmingly frightening. And childbirth does not have to be that way. I've done natural (no intervention during...though the hospital where Bee was born made me have a saline drip IV to have a line in place just in case, and they did give me medications afterward to stop hemorrhaging) childbirth twice (and plan to have any subsequent children in the same way unless complications necessitate another course of action). It was an amazing, empowering, beautiful experience. Even though it hurt like nothing I'd ever imagined (including kidney stones), and in one case I lost enough blood to make Ben go white as a sheet.

The author of the books has said, of including the scene in the movie, that "I'd love to have the birth scene be every bit as awful -- I know it freaked people out, but for those of us who have been through childbirth a couple times, it is a scary, terrifying experience. This is just taking that to an exponential power, and I love going there."

I guess if you frame childbirth in those terms, that's the sort of experience you might imagine. And since this movie is marketed so rabidly to teenagers, maybe it's not an awful thing (hey, if that's what works as birth control for them, more power to the movie).

But. With proper mental and physical preparation, a good support team, and a cooperative baby (not much you can do about preeclampsia or breech babies and other such complications) , you can do it! And it can actually be a positive experience....I've never experienced any feeling like my last push when my babies were born. It's accomplishment, relief, excitement, love, "let's conquer the world!", and beauty, all wrapped up. And I've probably missed something, because that doesn't even quite cover it. And it's phenomenal. In the Kantian sense of the word, sublime.

Not scary. Not inevitably deadly. Not uncontrollable.

Of course, this is coming from a girl who runs marathons for fun. But for what it's worth. Terror is not the only emotion we can or should associate with the prospect of experiencing childbirth.

Competence

I'm consistently evaluated at work. By students, supervisors, administrators, even the occasional unrelated observer. All to ensure that I know how to do my job, do it right, and meet student needs.

If I did my job the way many people in other fields do theirs, I'd no longer have it.

Two examples:

First:
I received YET ANOTHER "failure to file" notice for school district taxes. From two years ago. In a state where we didn't even live. Called yet again to say "We faxed the information you requested (proof of residency and W2 forms) to resolve this on 5/31/11." They said "No, we don't have anything." And I said "Yes, it was sent to x number, attn: x person, and the date and time stamp." They put me on hold, came back and said "Oh, yeah. She got that, but we don't have it any more. Can you fax it again?"

Seriously? Unfortunately, the answer is "yes, I can, because you're the government and I will be fined otherwise." I hate that my togetherness is not reciprocated on their end.

Second:
I received a "Your child will not be allowed to attend school after 11/11/11 if you don't send us her shot record" letter about Bee yesterday. Huh? I gave them her shot record (both of them, actually) when we registered her. I watched as they made photocopies and put them in her file. So I called to check. They said "Well, it looks like she needs a, b, c, and d before we can let her keep coming." I said "You have a record of that. It's on letterhead from Drs. So-and-So, dated 5/7/11." And they said, "OH! It IS right here! We'll make sure the nurse knows."

Again, seriously? You threaten to kick my child out of school for lack of documentation, apparently without reviewing your files?

I don't know if this is a new phenomenon or if public institutions have always been this inept. I feel a teensy bit like an old curmudgeon in my "You young whippersnappers just don't do anything right!" attitude. But given that their ineptitude creates worry and extra work for me, I'm entitled to that frustration, I think.

Halloween costume rant

I'm ready to offer a big "amen" to most of the sentiments in this article.

When we went shopping for costumes, it was super easy to find something for J, who walked into the first aisle, had his eye caught almost instantly, pointed and said "BUUUUUUUZZZZZ!!!!" We promptly pulled down the costume and he hugged it to his chest until the checkout line.

B was more of a struggle. We wandered around the aisles again and again....she had talked for a long time about being Dash from the Incredibles (an idea I totally loved). But she didn't like the fake muscles the costume had, so we had to find something else. Most of the Disney princess-type dresses she didn't go for (though she REALLY liked the Cinderella one)....but I'd have said no anyway, because the skirts were of the barely-cover-your-butt type with a little bouncy petticoat underneath that would have guaranteed some flashing of Dora panties. The more generic costumes (witch, devil, fairy) had all sorts of glaring flaws - hooker boots, lace-up bodices, skin-tight neon-colored leotards as the base - I could go on and on.

Finally we decided to buy a frilly little knee-length skirt with a matching pair of very large blue wings so that she can be "Tinker Bell's friend that wears blue, because Tinker Bell is not very modest!" That's right, I couldn't convince her to be a modified, modest Tinker Bell even though I tried (The exchange was something like ME: "We can get the green skirt and wings, and we can put your hair up in a bun! With your leotard under the skirt you'd have sleeves and still be modest." BEE: "I don't want to be her! She's not modest and not nice!" ME: "Fair enough!"). I was pretty proud of her.

I'm glad that she wasn't drawn to the short-and-sexy ones. But I hate that they're around, and I'm sure it's a discussion that we'll have at some point.

WAHOOOOOOOO!

http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/28/world/europe/uk-monarchy/index.html?hpt=hp_t2

Honestly, so many women have ruled in England already (and done a credible job at it), I'm glad that they changed the pecking order.

That way they won't have to go all Isabella of France on people and use her son as a puppet to be able to get anything done herself! (If you don't know her story, look it up....it's pretty amazing; I recommend Alison Weir's "Queen Isabella." I read it during my "summer of medieval queens" for-fun reading).

So, what have you been doing lately?

Last weekend Ben and I went backpacking. We drove down to Red River Gorge and camped two nights, hiking about 15 miles over two days (Friday didn't really count, we didn't get in til after dark).

I have two product reviews from the trip:
Vibram 5 fingers Bikila - EXCELLENT for walking; until this weekend I had only ever run in them. Cold dew in the morning made my feet cold until they dried off, but it wasn't too bad. And I didn't get blisters, which I almost ALWAYS do when I'm hiking.

Osprey Aura 50 backpack - LOVED IT. Now granted, I've always just used Ben's little CamelBak daypack when we've gone out before - this is the first real frame pack I've ever had, so I don't have a lot to compare it to. BUT. The weight distribution was perfect for my small frame. And despite my being short but still long in the torso, I could adjust the pack to fit the way it should. I feel like it would hold about 3 times as much weight as I would ever want to carry, but if we ever get out to Glacier and I need to pack more warm layers, I'm sure it will be great.

Overall it was very peaceful, and the trails were nicely blazed (not so much that you felt like somebody was holding your hand the whole time, but also easy enough to follow). We only saw a lot of people when we were near Grey's Arch and the trailheads. The rest of the time it was just us....lots of me rambling. :-) Ben's nice to me though, he always makes me feel like I'm not just talking into the air. The whole time I felt a little like a runner masquerading as a backpacker - between my running clothes (which work fine for hiking but are definitely running clothes) and my frustration at not running up hills, I felt out of my element! But it was VERY fun, I absolutely want to go again. Once we got home I was doing a little bit of that "Let's do this EVERY DAY" thing that kids do when they find something new and cool.

We also went to Muir Valley to climb (well for Ben to climb and me to tag along - I did climb, but he's the climber!). It was fun but we both were REALLY tired from the hiking....next time we'll have to do the climbs on the FRONT end of the trip instead of when we're weak and shaky from sore muscles.

Pictures to come, once I get two minutes together.


Unrelated miscellaneous stuff:

Some less-than-physical stuff, too - we cooked Korean food last night. Bulgogi, Sam Gyup Sal, Mandu,....the kimchi we bought. I'm not that cool. :-) Turned out pretty good!

And I have a whole half a chapter of the dissertation done. Wahoo!

And, last of all, (going back to the physical stuff, I guess) - I'm thinking about doing the Tecumseh Trail marathon again this year. I must be nuts, but it was SUCH a great run....it's not everywhere in the Midwest that you find a 3500' elevation gain, and multiple 300' hills....in the snow....with 700 people...and yummy homemade bread and soup at the end...and I'm still sort of trained up from the Nashville half....we'll see.

And to think I never knew....

“We want our homes to be blessed with sister scriptorians—whether you are single or married, young or old, widowed or living in a family. … Become scholars of the scriptures—not to put others down, but to lift them up!” (Spencer W. Kimball, “The Role of Righteous Women,” Ensign, Nov. 1979, 102.)

Pretty good, right? It gets better...

Marvin J. Ashton of the Quorum of the Twelve explained that “a woman should feel free to go into the marketplace and into community service on a paid or volunteer basis if she so desires when her home and family circumstances allow her to do so without impairment to them” (Ashton, p. 93). (Belle Spafford said something very similar, but I can't find the reference!)

Nice! And, finally:

"You are…more blessed than any other women in all the world. You were the first women to have the franchise; the first women to have a voice in the work of a church. It was God that gave it to you and it came as a result of revelation to a Prophet of the Lord. Since that time, think what benefits the women of this world have enjoyed. Not only you belonging to the Church have enjoyed the blessing of equality, but when the Prophet Joseph Smith turned the key for the emancipation of womankind, it was turned for all the world, and from generation to generation the number of women who can enjoy the blessings of religious liberty and civil liberty has been increasing.” (President George Albert Smith, Relief Society Magazine, Dec. 1945)

So how stinking awesome is THAT quote from 1945??

I mean, I always believed these things. I imagined that I wasn't "out there" in thinking them (even though Church culture is a whole different animal...). But I'd never bothered to find General Authority-type folks that said them! Until now.

Recent conversation

Me: I wonder why J is totally and absolutely uninterested in potty training?

Ben: *snicker*

Me: What? Bee was excited about it at this age, and she doesn't have older siblings or anything.

Ben: It's funny. You're surprised, even though he's the embodiment of entropy and chaos.

Me: . . .

Why, oh why?

Today's playgroup discussion has me tying my brain in knots trying to understand why people don't see the double standard they ascribe to.

I mentioned Ben's dissatisfaction with seeing less of his kids because of a shift (albeit only by 30 minutes) in his work schedule. The other women fell all over themselves to assure me that "it's not quantity time, it's quality time....it's what he's doing with it!" and that he shouldn't be concerned about missing out. I brought up how much he enjoyed spending so much of Bee's early life at home (at least some of the time) and J's, and how we're both a little sad for future children that it won't be the same. Again, the reassurances that it just doesn't matter, that he'll feel the same toward them all and that they'll all feel the same toward him.

Later in the conversation someone asked me about what I'm planning to do next baby-go-round. I half considered saying "Oh, we're done. Two's plenty!" even though it isn't true for us.....just for the shock factor. Instead, I talked about how I'm wondering what life will look like....this will be the first time I've had a job and a newborn, rather than being in classes with a newborn. And I honestly don't know what it will look like. Everyone rushed to reassure me that I'd be able to scale back my work schedule or sacrifice my job entirely in the interests of being a good mother.

Why, oh why, is it that no one sees the ridiculousness of this contrast? Is it that men are such inherently better parents that they need less time to be just as good at it, and get the same results that women do after spending hours upon uninterrupted hours with their children? Is it that only mothers are capable of providing quality childcare? Is it that fathers are so inept that we shouldn't risk a child's care on them? Is it that working a two-day-a-week schedule will make it impossible for me to be an adequate mother?

I don't think it's any of those. I think that looking at how foolish all of those reasons are, just reassures me that it will be just fine for me to work.....if Ben can work and still be a good Dad, I can work and still be a good Mom. Unless by working he's a failure at parenting, in which case I guess our poor kids are just SOL.

Women's half marathon

Before I talk about the race I have to say that the best part of the weekend was seeing AL, JC, and meeting baby Bean, who I got to talk to but who wasn't accommodating enough to kick me. :-) I miss them so much, I love when I get the chance to visit. And they made pre- and post-race a lot easier by dropping us off and picking us up...and eating chocolate ice cream with us while we watched the RS meeting broadcast afterward.

On to the race.

Either they don't know how to write an elevation map, or I don't know how to read one. :-) What was supposed to be a course with a 40 foot overall elevation change turned out to be a continuous series of hills....and rather large ones, at that. The two worst "hills" were the bridges that took us over the river and back.....at mile 11.5 and 12.5!!! Given that it was an all women's race I was intrigued by the fact that I overheard the phrase "This hill is a bitch" multiple times on the way up (honestly, friends, call it a bastard or something! ;-) ). Anyway. It was a difficult course but very fulfilling in its challenge, and pretty....we saw a lot of Nashville.

I was concerned about my preparation because I've not been running regularly. I've been pushing harder and running longer when I do, though, and it paid off. I ran an 8:30 pace continuously....at mile 4 when I realized I was under 35 minutes I thought, "I need to slow down or I'm gonna drop dead before this is done." I tried to scale back but just felt so GOOD! The weather was ideal, and since my iPod failed to charge it was just me and the demons - great to run them out! I just had a great time the whole time! I finished at 1:51:25, over 6 minutes better than my previous PR for a half marathon. I was 170 of 3060 overall, and 36th in my age group.

Going in I wondered about the environment/atmosphere of the race because of the "all women" element. My mother-in-law was interested in it, and I thought it would be fun to tag along. There was great race chatter the whole time....I went back-and-forth with a girl shooting for two hours as her first 1/2 marathon (wow, she's awesome), a girl who was a Nashville local and was cheered on by her husband and 1-year-old at mile 6, and a lady who finished 6th in her age group that inspired me because of her machine-like consistent pace. It was fun to talk while I was running. The atmosphere was really nice and a lot less competitive than other races I've run in, people did a lot of cheering for each other just because it was fun. There weren't as many spectators as I've seen at other races, but still a decent crowd. The music/bands left a lot to be desired, except whichever group was at the top of the beastly bridge-hill at mile 12.5.....whoever they were, they were pretty great! And the guys in togas at the water stop after the turn around (mile 8 ish maybe?) were HILARIOUS!

The thing I thought was most interesting was the signage. I saw a lot of taking-back-type "Run like a girl" signs that were fun, and plenty of "My mom can outrun your mom" and "I love my Mommy!" signs from little kids - I loved seeing families supporting their moms. There were two signs that made me think: "Hurry up, I'm tired of standing here waiting for you" and "I still expect my beer at half time." Both were held by men in their late 30s or early 40s with guts. If they were serious, I don't know what to begin to say about them. Giving them the benefit of the doubt and assuming an attempt at jest, I have two things to say:
1) The woman you were supporting was doing something I'm pretty sure, based on your physiology, that you can't do. Don't belittle it just because you can't do it.
2) Sexism isn't funny. It's just not. Even when you try to pretend that you're joking. A wise friend once told me that you never say anything you don't mean just a little bit. So c'mon. Figure it out.

It was a great race, I had a great time! Don't know that I'll do it again, but you never know. It could happen.

Honestly?

"My son used to be a ticking time bomb -- he'd find a screwdriver and poke a hole in the screen door, then stuff a toy down the toilet in a matter of minutes," says Theresa Newfield of Raynham, MA, whose son Dayson was diagnosed with ODD when he was 3. Now on the stimulant Adderall (amphetamine and dextroamphetamine) by day and an antidepressant before bed.

Found the above on an article discussing medicating preschoolers and toddlers.

J regularly engages in behavior like that listed above. I chalk it up to two things:
1) My unwillingness to constantly supervise him
2) The fact that he's two

It'd take a whole lot more than that for me to put my child on a daily regimen of medication with serious neurological and metabolic side effects.

Half next weekend

I'm going to Nashville on Friday to run an all-women's half marathon on Saturday. The idea is intriguing to me, especially because of things like a "cookie cafe" at the end instead of the usual pizza/subs/let's-rot-our-stomachs-with-artificial-nutrients protein shakes. And because, let's face it, guys who run long races like this tend to take themselves a LOT more seriously than the women who do (with the exception of the elites, who should take themselves seriously....because, frankly, they're amazingly fast), and I'm interested to see how the dynamic changes without than element.

Secretly, though, I'm only going so I can see AL and because my mother-in-law wanted some company. Running races with her has been a fun thing to share, I'm going to miss it in the next pregnancy/recovery/retraining gap (no announcements, just inevitability).

My training for this race hasn't been nearly as consistent as for the last long race I did....summer heat and moving into the new house, together with starting the new job, have sort of consumed my free time. But I've managed it.

And.

Today I ran 10 miles in an hour and 33 minutes. This included 1 mile on the crazy hill I've talked about before....it was mile 9. It was one of those breezy, cool, bright sun/blue sky Midwest days that's just absolutely perfect and why I can't live anywhere else....I love the seasons here. And since I was on the road I brought music along. It was a great run, I felt strong and steady the whole time (well, except for that mile of hill training).

To all the dogs (and there were a lot of you!) who watched me aimlessly from your front porches: Thank you.
To all the owners of said dogs: Way to train your dogs to only react to a legitimate threat.

To the bloodhound, Aussie, Lab, Pit Bull, and mutt Shepherd that chased me: HAHAHAHAHA, that stick was a lot harder than you thought it'd be huh?
To all the owners of said dogs: Fence, tie, or train your dog. You're breaking state law otherwise. I know, I've checked. And if they chase/attempt to bite me next time I run the route, I'm legally allowed to pepper spray and/or taze them.

I ran in normal shoes for the first time in ages, because I don't think I've built the strength to go 10 miles in my Vibrams. But now my feet are not happy. Oh well, you can't win them all.

Happy Birthday to me

Today I did a lot of mental health things for myself....all the laundry and dishes are done, my grading is done and entered, my lesson plans for next week are ready, the dog is washed and brushed (she's shedding A TON right now, I'm trying to minimize the impact of that on my poor house), I did my grocery trip for this two weeks (didn't just stay within the newly-scrimped experimental budget, but came in way under), all of the carpet that I could vacuum before the vacuum caught fire (I guess it's only fair, between the time it was Dad's and time it's been ours it's gotta be about 7 years old) is clean, I hung the new American flag I found (I've been stalking a nylon one with embroidered-on stars and sewn stripes....none of that printed sheet fabric for our flag!) on sale, and the vases around the house are stocked with zinnias and sunflowers from my garden. It feels so smiley and nice!

Since it's a "milestone birthday" for me (you only hit a decade once a decade, right?), I've been thinking about the last ten years. Ten years ago, I had just done a study abroad in the Dominican Republic that changed my life.....destroyed my framework for the world and required me to re-think poverty, privilege, consumerism, race....and made me determined to do something productive with my language skills. Since then, I've served a mission, gotten married, started teaching at one university, had a baby girl, worked on a Golden Age theater project, finished an MA, started teaching at another university, had a baby boy, finished PhD coursework, passed PhD exams, run my first two half marathons and first marathon, defended a dissertation proposal, bought and moved into our first home back near family (HOORAY! FINALLY!), trained a puppy (well, mostly, we're still in-process), and started teaching full-time at yet another university. It's been a good ten years!

So, I'm not really big into elaborate celebrations for birthdays. We do family parties for the kids, with cake and ice cream and they get presents. I'm not one to complain that my husband didn't buy me an expensive gift or bring me flowers (I'd much rather take trips with him from time to time than have money eaten up by small things!) But I have to admit that right now, while he's going out to get some pop and the best pizza for miles (happens to be about two miles up the road) and some hot wings (total splurge, we never buy wings even though we both love them), with the kids in tow, I'm feeling like it's the best present ever.

Life's not fair

I know this. Accepting it is still somewhat problematic for me from time to time.

I found another article, but unlike the last one that piqued my interest, this one raised my hackles.

Illegal immigration is a tricky issue. I used to have a good, solidly-formed opinion that people should buck up and go through the system. Then I served a Spanish-speaking stateside mission. And met people who had tried to navigate the process and ended up with nothing but wasted time and massive attorney fees. And people who lost their chance at an education because the government made mistakes and realized them at the at the last minute.

I'm grateful for the LDS church's surprisingly progressive stance on this issue. See this page for more on that.

I just can't help wondering in my mind a little bit....would the deputies have shackled a man, one who had not threatened them otherwise, who was bleeding profusely while the doctors were treating him for it to prevent his death? Would the deputies have shackled a pregnant white woman they arrested, or just counted on their ability to outrun her (in all fairness, I could probably outrun Nashville sheriffs even at nine months pregnant, but I think I'm an exception)? Would they still have shackled her for the traffic violation had she been able to produce a green card or other documentation?

See, we're often so blind to our own layers of privilege that we don't even know we have it. Like my students famously say, every single semester, "I don't have culture. I'm just an American." Riiiiiiiiiight. And you don't have any privilege, either.

I hope they rake the guys across the coals for this one, just for their lack of human decency.

Ah HA! That's IT!

I found this article and it interested me:
http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/english/doc/2005-03/04/content_421834.htm

I'm wondering what the parallels may be between this situation and that of LDS women? My first reaction is that there are striking similarities, especially with this quote:
"A man tends to look for a wife who is less capable than himself. In this sense, the only men who would feel free to marry a woman PhD would be those with PhDs or even higher qualifications themselves."

Personally, I'm grateful to have found and married a man with almost a "Look how cool she is, and she chose ME!" attitude.

Thoughts on the situation, anyone??

Sorry the post is so short, but I have to have four courses set up for Monday (so of course I'm going to wash the cars, the dog, and all the laundry....and blog...instead of doing my work!) and I can only slack so far before I'm completely time-crunched.

I love working!

I never remember how much I miss working until the school year starts up again. I love the breaks and being home with my children.

But.

I spent the whole day today bandying around ideas for classroom activities, learning new teaching technologies, and getting acquainted with the teaching philosophy of a new university (I found that, at least ideologically, it combines my favorite things about my two previous institutions with none of the annoying ones - what are the odds?!?).

It was a lovely day. I'm thoroughly tired, ready to go for a run and then wind down the day setting up the first two weeks' activities.

Hooray!

Peace from a disturbance

I recently, in my blog stumblings, started reading some random LDS guy's blog. His opinions differ from mine, but I found some of what he wrote to be thought-provoking and worth the comment-conversations that ensued.

Then he posted this. And I stumbled upon this older post. I was really troubled by both; my knee-jerk reaction was "God forbid my daughter ever date his son" (though I think she'll be too smart for that), and eventually it progressed to the point of Ben listening to my rantings and assuring me that no, not all men think like this (I mean, I know this, I'm married to BEN for pete's sake), and kindly acting as a sounding board so that I could work through my frustration about the whole thing.

I got bogged down in how these posts reflect what I believe is a non-doctrinal attitude towards women that is sneakily prevalent in Church culture - That women really don't know what they want and if you persist long enough, they'll figure out that you (usually a masculine you) are right and know what's best for them; that women are like children and shouldn't be trusted with "adult" things like finances and employment decisions; that you should change your wife's behavior by training her....the language that shows up in both of those posts reminds me of the manual from the Monks of New Skete about becoming the alpha and dominating your puppy/dog so that they'll behave (albeit excellent dog training resource that I highly recommend for that purpose, I shudder to think that some men use the same techniques on their wives) . I think that's why I was so triggered by both posts (as evidenced in my comments on them).

This aspect of Church culture, especially because of the disconnect between it and doctrine (that women are valuable, that Christ often associated with them, that God loves his daughters and that we are more than just baby-machines....you know, that stuff) is something that I have struggled with since I became aware of it. I'm fairly certain that I will struggle with it for a long time yet, if not forever.

Fortunately, and partly through my step-dad's always-insightful perspective, I managed to once again separate Church culture from the doctrines I know to be true. Specifically, to remember what I know to be true about the marriage covenant.

I know that, like the rest of the Gospel, the marriage covenant is about bringing us, as individuals, closer to Christ. The Savior throughout His mortal ministry demonstrated a profound love and empathy for other people, often sacrificing for them in selfless ways. He also worked with those He loved, from within their own framework, to help them progress - when He raised Lazarus He didn't just run to the tomb and get it over with, He wept with His friends. Part of His mortal experience was to make the experiences of others intertwine with His own. Marriage, given our lack of perfection, is an excellent way for us to attempt to emulate Him in that aspect. We find someone that we love, that shares our goal of returning to our Father in Heaven, and we covenant to strive for an eternal marriage (an eternal marriage BEGINS in the temple, you've got no guarantee of it through the ordinance alone....another thing entirely, but listen real close to the words of the sealing ceremony next time you go). Which means that we bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. We complement (not compliment, though that's important too) each other, and strive to form a partnership - one like Elder Faust defines, where there is no "silent" or "lesser" partner. So that we can help each other to return home. I know that both God and the Savior intend marriage to be a learning and growing experience for their children that will ultimately bring them home. And I'm extremely grateful for the ordinances that allow it to last forever.

I feel a little sacrilegious closing the way I would in a testimony meeting. But you get the idea. Thanks for putting up with my bit of cathartic writing. :-D

* UPDATE* The blogger I disagree with removed the first post I link to in this post. To be clear on my disagreement, here's a summary. He titled it "The Brutal Truth about the Marriage Covenant" and stated this about marriage: "Why does a religious, Christian or LDS man get married? Because he wants a business partner? To get someone to chat and hang out with? Because he's desperate for children and posterity? Because he's lonely? He wants someone he enjoys doing certain hobbies or activities with? No. Just No. He wants sex. If he's healthy and normal, lots of it. Daily. At least. More often if possible." And yes, those are both direct quotes. And obviously, I have a problem with the idea that God's intention for marriage is so that men can get sex.

Today's Guest Writer - Ben

How Spanish Golden Age Comdia Written By Women Rocks Your World

Once upon a time, in a land that predates computers, everyone wound congregate in town squares and they all looked int the same direction at an empty platform. This phenomenon occurred for hours at a time, but left the people empty and unfulfilled as they stared at nothing. Then one day someone lost a bet and had to stand on the platform while everyone was looking. This too was unfulfilling to the populace until he decided to dance a merry jig. This brought happiness to the townsfolk. The next day he decided to read a book to the group. This did not go over well.

This lead to other people trying to fill those hours of looking toward the stage. Then someone had an idea to script out what they would do on the platform. And thus the Comedia was born. First the men wrote because they were the ones in charge of everything. Then some women started writing, too. And everyone knows that women do things better than men.

They were insightful and often reflected social issues of the day. This structure can help us understand our society today. And that’s why they rock your world.

PR

There's a seven-mile trail run that I do pretty frequently. It's one heck of a thing, tons of hills and more water crossings than I care to count. My kind of thing.

It usually takes me about two hours (on the road I keep about an 8:30 pace for anything over 5 miles)....yeah, that's a huge pace difference.

Today I finished it in an hour and twenty minutes. 7 miles, on a really rugged trail with what some people call "highly technical running"*, and I kept about an 11 minute pace. Hooray for me!

I often think of distance running as an analogy for things in my life....usually childbirth, but lots of other things crop up. Today it was marriage. Hills are rough. Lots of times they change your running technique/stride/breathing. And it's easy to want to quit. But if instead of sitting down and crying (like I wanted to at multiple points today) you keep going, push yourself to overcome the difficult things, you'll end up stronger on the other side. And there's no use ignoring the hill. It isn't going to go away, and if you want to get home, you have to go up it. So face it, beat it into submission, make yourself keep going. It will get better....usually lead to some easy running on a level patch or a breezy downhill.

* My definition of "highly technical running" is looking at a root-strewn, washed out trail as I'm careening down it, trying to do a forward-and-back sweep of it and place my feet as best as possible, letting my speed gather as fast as I dare while avoiding breaking my neck. I don't have much technique other than to try really really hard not to fall down. :-)

Hill training....

.....with Miranda Lambert and the Beatles. It doesn't get any better than that.

There's a 375-meter hill in my neighborhood. Anybody who knew the younger version of myself is aware of my running up and down Y mountain, and doing multiple reps of all 13 (well 26 if you take into account that they're broken into two for each floor, 27 if you go up to the roof) flights of stairs in the SWKT. Needless to say, when I found this unexpected hill, I was really excited.

I've been working up the distance I can take in my barefoot shoes...I'm up to 6 miles, but it makes my feet sore to go that far. I have less pain everywhere else (ankles, knees, hips, even shoulders), but my foot muscles are still not very strong, it seems. Last night I ran reps on the hill in them. Holy wow.

When I do hill training, I run from home to wherever the hill is, then pace how long it takes me to run continuously up the hill immediately after that. Then I try to speed up every repetition of the hill. Yesterday I went consistently down from 2 minutes and 15 seconds, to 1 minute and 50 seconds over six times up the hill. I was really pleased with the 1:50.

It's been a long time since I ran like that, where I was really pushing my body trying to make it work as efficiently as possible, focusing on my breathing and stride and the way my muscles were moving....and I remembered again what it is that makes me love running. When you feel that perfect combination of how God made your body to work, everything so smooth and fluid even though it hurts like crazy....it's just amazing to think of how He did it. A perfect balance, capable of continuous improvement....and then He gave us the senses to recognize it, the remarkable sensory experience of it.

In my highly un-academic opinion, it's just cool.

Switching places

Me: I wish I could go to the grocery while you stayed home to "dissertate."

Ben: I could dissertate for you!

Me: At this point you could probably do as well as I can, starting off...

Ben: "Once upon a time, they didn't have computers. So they made plays."



I'm staying home to dissertate. :-)

Officially boring

I have nothing to say. Due in large part to the fact that I've been either out of town, slogging through the dog having worms and all the fun THAT entails, translating like a crazy person (without getting paid for it....apparently since I'm a woman and "have so much free time" I should not mind being put on a delayed pay schedule....but that's another rant entirely), or cleaning up after vomiting children.

When I despair of ever being a good mom, however, I look at my reaction to the fourth round of puke in the middle of the night. I tend to sit up in bed (yes, I sleep in bed with my kids when they're sick....call me crazy, but I have to make sure they're still breathing), grab the baby to hold their head while they puke, plop them in a warm tub while I change the sheets and disinfect everything (in the slight hope that the rest of us can avoid the plague), and roll back into bed with cleaned-and-new-pj'd baby to start it all over again. I mutter reassuring words in a soft voice....and realize that maybe I'm NOT a terrible mom.

Free and easy

Just ran 6 miles in 52:35. And that was not on flat ground. I ran up a hill that was a mile long. Not near as steep as some of the Utah ones, but enough to kick my butt. I feel so free and happy and balanced. Now if I can just break 48. :-)

I love Miranda Lambert. A number of her songs really speak to my soul... but mostly "House that Built Me," "Virginia Bluebell," "Heart Like Mine," and "Time to Get a Gun." I enjoy the whole CD, though, especially as a running soundtrack. On trails I'm fine with no music, but I really like something to listen to while I'm pounding pavement.

I like the way running makes me feel. Because running can also be a "let's lose weight" thing for people, I'd like to take up a related topic. I hear a lot of remarks and read a lot of blogs that reveal this "women have an obligation to stay thin in order to keep their husband feeling attracted to them" mindset.

True, men are visually aroused. I would like to put forward the argument, however, that expecting a woman in her thirties (or older than that) who has borne children to look like one in her twenties who has not, is not only unreasonable but also ridiculous. Physical attractiveness factors change. Deal with it.

And men - a gut on you is no more attractive to us, than thunder thighs on us are to you. Just sayin'.

Sometimes I should just shut up...

....rather than sharing my opinion in Relief Society. Then people won't roll their eyes at me when I comment that maybe, just maybe, deciding NOT to get married before you finish college isn't necessarily "anti-family" and therefore "anti-Christ" (apparently according to a Julie B. Beck talk they discussed in our lesson today, the terms are interchangeable). When you start thrusting your PERSONAL (ie, not doctrinal) definitions of "anti-family" into that sort of equivalency, things get ugly. And judgmental. And (dare I say) un-Christian/un-Christlike.

I think too much. Way too much. It would be so much easier to nod my head and say "yeah, being 'anti-family' is BAD!" without worrying about the fact that people have all SORTS of definitions of what's "anti-family."

Seriously, sometimes I think I should just walk out (I mean, then they'd just think I was leaving to go the the restroom, not that I was making a fuss, right?) rather than say anything (when it becomes obvious that I'm a dissenter....an outsider....a "not like us" -er). I'd get a lot less emotionally involved, and other people wouldn't shun/get offended by me.

This is why church gets hard for me. I should just let it go.

Hooray!

So, it turns out that maybe partners in marriage getting an education (that means the man AND the woman), along with those women who WANT to work being able to do so, means good things for marriage.


Divorce rates are on a downward trend.
In case you don't believe CNN, here's another one.
And another.

Imagine, that waiting until both parties have a little more life experience (not that they necessarily put marriage off indefinitely or for selfish reasons), are better educated, and have a little more financial flexibility within marriage, can mean a better chance at a successful marriage!! Groundbreaking.


I feel so validated. Not that a lack of feeling validated would make me change my life plan at all. But it's nice.

Rain, rain, go away!

So usually I like rain. I enjoy running in it, I like the way the wet earth smells, and it makes my flowers grow. I usually like rain.

It has rained more days than not the last two months. I can't find statistics, and if I'd had half a clue, I'd have kept track.

Add to that the fact that we've got rain in the forecast for six of the next ten days, I'm starting to get bugged.

I just want to see the sun again!

Yikes!

I was looking for this blog:
http://www.modernmormonmen.com/

When I found this one instead:
http://mormonmen.wordpress.com/



And as my Papaw used to say, geez oh pete. I wish I didn't know that the second one existed.

Overheard at lunchtime

We had a rough morning. J took his diaper off and pooped on the carpet in his room (who knew cleaner for pet accidents could do double duty?) while I was getting breakfast together. I always forget that, while Bee was FINE to be unattended at this age, J is NOT.

Then Mollie ran off....we had been playing in the front yard (hooray for SUN in Ohio, finally) with chalk and bubbles and the two oversize balls that Ben recently bought for the kids (one pink, one blue) and she was tied up to the tree. We were putting things away and going in for lunch, I thought J was on his way in with Bee. Just as I unhooked Mollie, J ran for the road. So of course, I ditched the dog and ran for the baby. Which meant that our usually restrained dog suddenly had freedom. She went nuts. So I retrieved her, but it took some running.

After all of this, Bee was saying the prayer to bless lunch and said "Please bless that J will be appropriate, and bless Mollie to not be so stupid." I almost laughed out loud. Both requests were greatly appreciated, but I have to admit I wondered where they came from.

Thoughts on television

One of the speakers in sacrament meeting yesterday* talked about the distractions in our lives and how they make mothering more difficult. I thought of a whole load of the things that distract me from mothering....school work, gardening, training the puppy, my regular work, wanting to run more, BLOGGING (;-))....the list goes on. As I was thinking of my distractions, I tuned back in to the speaker, and realized that he was talking about the evils of television and cartoons, and how they can dominate your home.

And my simple response was "This is why I don't own a television." I say simple, because it really is. It's that easy. If television is eating your kids, don't own one. Donate it. Throw it away.

Now, does this mean that we don't allow outside influences into our home in the interest of "protecting" my kids? No. We watch movies on the computer (we even got a projector for when we want to have the cousins over and have movie night), we go to the library and get various shows on DVD and watch them. But my kids have a set amount of "TV time" that they're allowed to use each day. They decide what they want to watch, and when, but once their time is used up, that's it for the day.

Of all of the things that threaten our relationships with our children, I'd say television is a pretty easy one to deal with.

* Note that I did NOT comment on sacrament meeting yesterday as a whole. That's because I'm still reeling over all the things that were weird and wrong in the "praise to Mothers" (capitalized because of course we're talking about imagined Mothers rather than real ones) program....not least of which the fact that not one single woman spoke!

The same thing again

and again, and again.

I'm feeling misfit-y again. I never know how to explain this.

Right know, at this phase in my life, I basically only know two things when it comes to the Gospel.

1) My testimony is no longer the black-and-white, "everything I hear at Church is good and strengthening, and my leaders always want what's best for me" testimony that I remember having at some point. (I can't even pinpoint when I used to believe this)

2) I still HAVE a testimony of some sort, I know the Church is true. But I don't really have a good nutshell testimony to share, and I certainly don't know what my future testimony is going to look like.


Feeling this way has me struggling, feeling insecure and in limbo. I don't know where to go from here, mostly because I don't know what needs to change.

A job, a job, I finally got a job!

I've been on pins and needles since January, wondering if my decision to leave an in-hand teaching position to follow Ben's job was a good one. Generally speaking, I'd have to say yes....the house is wonderful, and I'm so glad to be done renting I can't even put words on the idea, the kids love being close to family, the step up job-wise has made Ben much happier, getting the dog has made us all happy. We had just sort of stagnated, and it was nice to move on.

And yet there's the "Mommy needs sanity too" issue. Being at home all day every day with the kids and the puppy, as fun as it is and as creative as it lets the kids be with projects etc, and as much as I love making curtains, baking bread, and planting gardens (veggie and flowers!), gets tiresome. Especially with no car...so when I say "at home," I really mean it. I've finally decided to just accept that I need to get out and teach. It's like running, I'm just a much better person when I do it consistently.

So when I found out that the Spanish department at the nearby university that I've been hoping against hope I could teach for, does want to hire me after all, things got all rosy all of a sudden. Bee will be in school in the fall, and they have a pre-school program for J that doesn't have set pick-up and drop-off times, so I can leave him for as short a time as possible. And I'll get to teach 300-level classes....I guess that PhD thing was a good idea after all. Hooray!

Add to that the financial flexibility of another income, and, well, it's just great.

I'm really glad that I have a job that allows me to still be present in my kids' lives, and that my working makes it easier for their father to take an active role as well. When I was little, my Dad used to work extra shifts like a crazy person to make ends meet, which we all appreciated, but I HATED when the phone rang in the middle of the night, knowing that he was off to a prison riot or other dangerous thing, just so that Mom could stay home with us....by the time he was earning enough to not need to do that, we were all grown up enough that we were involved in other things, and we didn't have a lot of time to spend with him. That makes me sad sometimes. Without me working, Ben would probably be in a similar position, taking side work and other things. Since I can teach, he gets to be around while the kids are young enough to be excited and influenced by it. Which makes me happy.

I'm also really grateful to have a husband who's ACTUALLY supportive instead of just VERBALLY supportive. (I've said this before, and I'll probably say it again until I'm blue in the face) I still do all the nicey-nice things an LDS girl is "supposed" to (whoever decides what the "supposed" to actually is), and get my intellectual freedom at the same time. I'm glad I don't have to get a job at Walmart so that we can keep our house. I'd much rather a 10-hour teaching commitment than a 20- or 30- hour work week with no benefits, working in the middle of the night so that I'll be a cranky, awful mom.

I feel like this is a huge blessing, and I'm really glad that Heavenly Father heard Bee's "And please let Mommy get to go teach again" prayer.

Perspective

So, we've had rain in Ohio. A lot. Record-breaking averages for three months straight. And I don't remember the last day without some.

This has caused my sump pump to run continuously, me to open up the lift station pit so more water can drain, and us to buy a small pump to sit next to the furnace pumping water off the floor and into the lift station pit, so that hopefully it won't get high enough to hurt the furnace. Being as we've only been in our house for two months, I've been more than a little cranky about that, especially when I'm using our giant floor squeegie to push water around toward the various exit points.

Then the tornadoes hit Alabama. My friend Kim and her family are there while her husband is in graduate school. I love them dearly, and my first thought when I read that things were bad in Tuscaloosa was to be very concerned for them. I worried and worried until I managed to find out that they were (physically at least) okay. Then I started to worry about them, in my "I want to fix it but am MILES away and there is nothing I can do" worrier way. And the voice in my head that was complaining about my basement shut up.

Some friends of Kim's have set up a site where you can contribute donations to help Josh and Kim. I know that things are tight money-wise for most of my friends and family, but anything that you can spare would be appreciated. I don't think I can even really imagine how I'd be feeling with my little ones in the same situation.



Kim posted their story of what happened.

Craigslist

So I posted ONE THING on Craigslist, a basketball hoop that I put up FOR FREE, just wanting someone to get it out of my side yard.

I got this when I responded to one inquiry, letting them know that someone had already taken it away:

Hi, thanks for getting in touch with me. My husband insisted
that we help you out like we were helped out, lol. We used to do the
same thing as you
and sell items on Craigslist too. We would never have very much luck.
About a couple months in some-one emailed us like we're doing right now.
They showed us this site called: http://biddingkit.com/?=65-Sign-up
We were amazed at the cheap prices the merchandise would go for to the
winning bidder.
We gave it a go and would buy televisions for around 50 bucks or so
and would flip and sell on CraigsList for three times the cost we got it at.
Since then, my hubby and I have been getting around 1400 a week.
It's not alot, but its been a godsend in taking care of the kids.
We've finally been able to take some family vacations. When my hubby
saw your ad, he thought
we should help you out like we were once helped out. :) So check it
out and get an account,
maybe it'll help you out like it did for us: http://biddingkit.com/?=35-Signup


-------
Little did they know that I don't have a lot of respect for someone who uses "my husband insisted" as their only motivation for doing something.

And, as a side note, I get REALLY bothered by women who call their husband their "hubby." I just think it's a lame word....don't really know why, I just think it sounds awful. And somehow demeaning. And candy-sweet false. And you get the idea.

Epiphany?

Could it be that shorts were actually the result of frustration on the part of a young mother with a two-year-old boy who was sick of rolling up pants hems so that the lovely spring dirt, which was fine for his feet, didn't wreak havoc with his new khaki-colored pants?

Conflict

Have you ever had a relationship with a person that, no matter how hard you tried, did nothing but frustrate you?

Months ago, a family member and I had this crazy back-and-forth email exchange that centered on their acting in a way that I perceived to be gossipy. No matter how hard I tried to make it better, the responses this person sent me just made me feel worse and worse, until I finally said "Look, I don't have the energy for this, I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings." That's the last we've communicated, and it's been months.

The thing I don't get is that I have pretty passable relationships with most of the other people in my life. I don't think I'm particularly high maintenance, I try to engage in a give-and-take. My mom's better at it than me, and I want to be like her when I grow up. But that's a total side note.

I guess what I'm getting at is, that I would LIKE to have a reasonable relationship with this person, and try hard to overlook/get past/whatever you want to call it some pretty dramatic personality differences in order to do it. It just doesn't seem to work, even though I try pretty hard.

I don't really know what the point of this rant is, other than to put it out there. I'd love advice, if anyone has it.

Conferences

I really enjoy going to conferences, for a lot of reasons. This weekend I attended the Mormon Scholars in the Humanities conference. This year they held it at Utah Valley University (which when I was out there was still UVSC). It was a great conference, I really enjoyed the keynote speaker. My favorite part had to be the music we heard...Marvin and Sam Payne I think were their names. Excellent stuff. A close second would have to have been Todd Mack's paper - he talked about things that I worry about, how students don't engage with literature anymore and how that's dangerous, and what we can do about it.

Conferences also always get me riled up over one thing or another....this time it was this guy who was DETERMINED that our reason for being here was to "uncover" aspects of ourselves that we already had in the premortal life. Yeah, because that's not essentialist or deterministic at ALL. I was frustrated enough to ask a question in the Q&A session, wondering if we already had these characteristics what the POINT of this life was, and why God would put us through it, but he answered the question he wanted to hear, not the question I asked.

My favorite thing, though, was that I got to see friends...Dale and Valerie let me stay with them. This morning before I left Joseph informed me that I was an honorary family member. I don't think he knows how much that means to me....I love their family. And it was the first time since we graduated that Todd, Jared, AL, Steve, Vanessa and I all saw each other, at the same time, in the same place. SO MUCH FUN! And I dropped by the BYU Bookstore to try to track down my old boss, and ended up getting to chat with him for a while.

We also ate excellent food....Tucano's, which I miss a WHOLE LOT, a Mexican place in Orem that I don't remember the name of, In-n-Out, and Malawi's pizza (Dale's idea, totally AWESOME). Yummy, lovely, and I didn't have to cook it, clean it, or wrangle kids during it.

Which brings me to the point of the post - going to a conference always makes me realize how much I love my kids. I have fun, enjoy good food and company, learn a lot, rest and become a more stable human being again....and then I go home. I love my kids so much, and I miss Ben like crazy when I'm away. It's nice, helps me remember where the really valuable things in my life are.

50K?

And I'm not talking dollars.

I'm seriously considering doing a 50K at the end of April. I'm intimidated by a couple of things, though.

1) The longest I've run since December is 8 miles.
2) The most miles I've logged in a week since December is 20.
3) Only about 30 people run in this race. Which means that it will be noticeable if I don't finish.

Add to these things that I should probably be writing my dissertation and will go to a conference before the race, and I really shouldn't.

But I WANT to! And to prove it I ran five miles in under 45 minutes today. WAHOO!

I guess we'll see.

NEW HOUSE!

Finally. After all the bank-induced drama (they put the house on the market before they had a clear title, so we had to wait, and had no idea how long it would take), we're IN.

We've had a lot of fun settling things, though I have to say that moving the kitchen stuff around fifty times gets annoying....I just want it to be exactly the way that feels right! Which takes some tweaking. The kids are still getting used to having their own rooms. Mollie is doing GREAT about staying in "her" part of the house. We can even take the gate down for a few minutes. And I love, love, LOVE having a bathroom to ourselves (if you have ever lived with children, you understand this). And my kitchen, where I could get lost. And my upstairs laundry room....no more carrying laundry up and down the stairs (because, of course, I don't have anything better to do).

I feel a little bit guilty because of my American-ness...this house is really much bigger than we need to be satisfied...I always pictured a smaller house on more land, and here we are in a biggish house on a subdivision (here read: TINY) lot. Oh well. We're happy, and it's good.

So, here's the good stuff.




J's room, he's still getting used to sleeping alone, though he's doing GREAT. And yes, that is a piece of PVC pipe on his blankie. Other kids use a teddy bear, mine uses PVC pipe. Oh well.




Bee's room (you can't see the tulips that T brought for her dresser...they match the walls).



Laundry room....yes, it's sideways, but you get the idea and I'm too lazy to fix it right now. :-)



Our room. Ben picked the furniture, I like it a lot. It's not so blocky as to be totally masculine, but I don't think it's feminine at ALL. Good balance.



"Office." Right now it's just the 20+ boxes of books that need shelves. And I need a desk. But. We're buying things as we can afford them. Not before. It's hard to be patient, but sure makes life less of a crisis. :-)



Living room, as seen from the top of the stairs (yes, there is a vaulted ceiling. And yes, I'm afraid for J's life most of most days, since there's a half wall in the office that overlooks said vaulted space).



Dining room. And yes, my table (from Restoration Hardware, thanks for the tip AL!!) looks lonely with no chairs. Again, baby steps. We're going to look at some second-hand ones tonight (or maybe tomorrow).



KITCHEN! We bought the fridge of my dreams. Well, if you know me at all, you know that I don't dream about fridges or the like. But I do like it a whole lot. And J has two cabinets all to himself....he climbs into them and Bee shuts the door, which they both think is hilarious. And I didn't notice that Mollie was sitting there on the pillow until just now. She likes her spot.



Family room. Still pretty empty, but with the kids wanting to run around and Mollie chewing everything, it makes life easier. :-)

So, you can see we still need some things...curtains, touch up paint, chairs....but we're really happy here. I've never had nice things like this, and the living in poverty to save for this has been completely worth it. It's a huge blessing.

How many new things in how many months?

So, granted we're not in our house yet. (We're supposed to close on Friday but I'll believe it when the keys are in my hand) So until then it's not a complete swamping of change....

But the totally unexpected other new thing is, we've acquired a puppy. Right now my sister is being kind enough to take care of her (and work toward crate training her, which I would TOTALLY love if they manage) until we can get into our own space. We've always said we'd rescue our pets rather than get them from stores or breeders. We weren't planning on finding one now, but it seemed pretty fortuitous, both for us and for her. My sister's friend saved her from a ditch on a busy rural road, they named her Mollie. And we're glad to have her!



She's pretty darn cute!

Gauntlet

So, my defense yesterday was a really difficult hour, and I ended up with a splitting headache.

The whole day was one of those "Oh, yeah, I'm a PhD student AND a mom AND I don't live close to campus anymore....I must be nuts" days. Lucky for me my dad took a vacation day and came with us, or it would have been worse, what with dropping the kids with a sitter and all. Lucky for me that these days only happen about every 4 months.

Anyway. Here's how it went.

Tuesday night I laid out clothes for all of us, packed one bag with a change of clothes for each of the kids plus Bee's ballet stuff (you guessed it, ballet day on my defense date), one bag with snacks, juice, and sippy cups, and my school bag with my computer, flash drives, and notebook for the defense. Wednesday morning I got up at 6 to get myself ready, got the kids up at 7 and got them fed and dressed, and we set off for Bloomington.

The car was making a horrendous noise. I hadn't driven the car in ages (Ben uses it for work), and didn't realize it was so bad. We called around as we were driving, found out that the two closest rental places on the way were sold out of cars (on a Wednesday? Seriously?), and decided to just wing it and pray. We made it there.

I dropped the kids and Dad off at WonderLab (where they had a MARVELOUS time, he tells me), and set off for campus. Parked in the visitor's garage, realizing as I drove in that they had DOUBLED rates since last semester (?!?!) and that it was going to cost me $15 to park. So I was going to have to go get cash at some point, my ten was not going to cut it. Left the car, went in to my building on campus.

Had just enough time to run over my notes a time or two, and chat with the department secretaries (who I love) for a bit. Then we started my defense. It was all attack at first, which really rattled me for the rest of it. My advisor said I adjusted well to that, and that it was okay. But it felt terrible. After all the questions/concerns/"I think you should include x,y, z too" I left for them to deliberate. It took them a while. I was really scared. They brought me back into the room, I saw my last committee member signing the paperwork. FLOOD of relief! I do have to make a few style changes, but I can manage that.

The professor on my committee that I'm most intimidated by (just because she's SO brilliant and articulate...she's a wonderful person, but she scares me as a scholar just because she's so good at it and expects so much) paid me several nice compliments that almost made me cry. After she left, my advisor (who had witnessed the exchange) assured me that the other professor does not bestow praise like that lightly. Then she told me to be confident in my ideas because they're good and I'm smart, and I DID start to cry (which was a little embarrassing). We talked a bit about the plan of attack for writing the dissertation, and about the book project I'm working on for her, and about my possible teaching next fall. Then I left.

I ran to the nearest ATM (which of course was in the opposite direction from the car), got cash, ran to the car, paid my due, and went to WonderLab to collect my family. When I got there I grabbed the spare clothes from the car, ran in, and saw that the kids had had SO much fun that they were soaking wet (there is a water display there that's fun). I changed J's nasty diaper, changed his wet clothes, and got Bee into her ballet stuff. We jumped in the car, and drove home.

Dad took over driving after an hour, I had such a headache from the day. We were planning to have him drop me and Bee off at her ballet class, then take J home to Ben. Well, about 15 minutes from home, J puked his guts out - like that "Wow, I had no idea that your stomach could hold that much....oh, you're still not done...oh, and there's more. Geesh" sort of puking. So we took a detour. Dropped J off with Ben (who grabbed him, carseat and all), and went to ballet. We were about 20 minutes late for the hour-long class because of the unexpected change in plans. Poor J.

While Bee was finishing class I went to the coffee shop next door, and sat still, all alone, for a blissful half hour sipping a blackberry Italian soda. After she finished class,we went home, ate a light dinner (since lunch had been so late), and did bedtime.

I laid down on the couch and zoned out to American Idol (which my stepmom had on and I was amused by), then sort of fell in and out of sleep for a while. I felt like I had been beaten with a baseball bat.

But I passed! Which is good.

Information

Glenn Beck basically drives me nuts, but I sometimes find his thinking amusing. My favorite part of this video is where he says that Google is being kicked out of "all the other countries" (I won't even get into the ridiculousness of that blanket claim) because they're somehow conspiring with the American government.

Or maybe they're being kicked out of absolutist states because they allow people access to information. And information can change the balance of power in absolutist states when enough people have access to it. And absolutist leaders love when the balance of power shifts....oh wait. That's right, the absolutist leaders depend on the balance of power staying the same, and on controlling what information circulates. Maybe THAT'S why they don't like Google.

Or maybe freedom of information is a big American "conspiracy." That's right, I mean, after all, think I remember reading something somewhere about freedom of the press (and the circulation of information that it allows) being important to the foundation of America that Beck is so fond of distorting.

Geesh.

DEFENSE!

So, I have a date. Next Wednesday I'm defending my dissertation proposal.

I'm so excited to get this last hurdle to writing, and next-to-last hurdle in the whole thing, knocked out. I think the desire to just be done with it is going to outweigh the fear.

Mostly.

Vibrams

So, just a quick, quick, QUICK note (since it's the middle of the afternoon and both kids are awake).

I FINALLY bought some Vibram five fingers. Got the Bikila model. And I love them. As in, once the temperature is over 40 degrees consistently, I don't think I'll wear regular shoes unless I'm running more than 10 miles. Ever again.

I love running barefoot (like for real barefoot) and have done it successfully on trails, some tracks, sand and occasionally on a treadmill, but every time I've tried it on asphalt I end up with the callouses on the bottoms of my feet sloughing off (very very painful, leaves some pretty sensitive skin exposed and makes even walking an awful experience for a few days). Sorry, that's gross. But it explains why I don't run barefoot barefoot for real, at least on pavement.

I know, I know, a Vibram is still a shoe...it limits the connection between your feet and the surface you're running on, so it does change your stride a little bit. But they protect my feet, and they're better (in terms of natural stride) than my typical Saucony faithful shoes. (Don't get me wrong there, either....I'm totally going to keep using traditional running shoes for the long-long-long runs....I don't think I'm strong enough at the moment to pull off even a half marathon in Vibrams, though that's my goal for this September!)

So when I'm trail running and sand running, I'll stick to true shoeless-ness. But for road runs, I'm loving my Vibrams. When I put them on, I feel like a little kid, running from Gran's house to mine while she watches and counts to see how long it takes me.

So old and so new

Okay, so this picture is forever and a day old. But I had forgotten my camera and then never got it together enough to get the pictures from my friend who took some shots for me. She sent them to me yesterday.

I LOVE this picture of J. He has always loved things that go. "Airplane" was one of his first words (he points to the sky and says "PANE!")

Anyway. I think it's cute. And he's so little compared to now!



This one, on the other hand, is NOT old. J has learned to climb out of his pack-n-play. I think I've mentioned his Stockholm-syndrome-esque attachment to his sister who is usually mean to him. Well, he climbs out of his bed and they either get into our bed, or into hers. (This is facilitated by the fact that we all sleep in one room these days....can't wait for the house....)

Anyway again. I love when my kids are sleeping....they look so sweet and un-up-to-something-ish. :-)

Update

I've been feeling a little overwhelmed. Why is it that I'm either completely free to enjoy myself and relax, or totally swamped? If I could do an in-between load most of the time, I'd be better off, I think.

Paperwork, letters, phone calls, research, money managing for buying the house, then more phone calls, money, and time for inspections, not to mention the random problems that come up. "Oh, Ben was a consultant in 2008? That may be a problem." Well, he wasn't, he was an intern, you just have to file internship income as consulting income....more letters to write. "Oh, that water coming through your living room ceiling? It looks terrible, but it's just one little pipe that we can fix pretty cheaply." Well, thanks for the reassurance Dad and Mr. Inspector Man, but I'm not as experienced as the two of you, and this looks BAD to me. I didn't WANT to have to fix one little pipe, and certainly didn't want WATER COMING THROUGH MY LIVING ROOM CEILING!! It was pretty funny, Bee kept asking "Why is there a flood in our roof?" And J pointed to the puddles on the carpet and said "Mess, mess, mess, mess" over and over, ad infinitum. :-) But I've calmed down a bit, and I don't think it's going to keep us from buying the house.

On top of all that (like it isn't enough), I'm trying to get my proposal final-version-polished, and set up my defense. I WANT TO BE WRITING, not stuck in limbo again. I passed my quals almost a year ago, and have made changes to my drafts per my advisor's suggestions very quickly. I guess it's just a long process no matter what.

And I'm working for my advisor. That part, at least, is fun. I'm making a Spanish drama anthology/textbook of hers look nicer and getting it ready for publishing. LOVE reading the plays....it's nice that they're not ones I'm using for the dissertation. Adds to my repertoire, and is more relaxing than "take crazy notes" reading.

I think the thing that has been the hardest is losing the running schedule. Normally I run early in the mornings; if the kids wake up while Ben's still getting ready, he lets them run around. That wouldn't fly with our new (and temporary) living situation. And now (since he has a commute like a real person) he doesn't get home until 6. Which leaves little time for the running bug. But I'm still running twice a week. Better than nothing. But I'm excited to get into the new house and back to a schedule that's OURS.

Kids

I haven't posted about them for a while. Does this make me a terrible mother? I hope not...I think it just means that I've been up to other things.

The move has been difficult for Bee (and me), but BabyJ seems to be handling it all right. There are lots of new rules in this new house (I feel bad complaining about it, because it's REALLY nice of my dad and stepmom to store us until we close on the house) - don't push any buttons on ANYTHING, don't play the piano, don't wake up before 9 (which means we're banished to the basement until everyone wakes up, so that we don't disturb the light sleepers), don't make ANY messes, don't hide in the corner behind the furniture (but it's such a lovely little playhouse spot!), don't take the cushions off the couch or chairs (we do this on a regular basis at our house, to build things)....you get the idea. J's okay, just wonders why there are so many "no"s. Bee gets angry and sulky. She's been acting out a little, but I have to remind myself that if I weren't an adult with a social filter, I'd be throwing fits because of how stressed I feel, too.

J is straight muscle these days....he took a 5-pound weight in each hand and made a hilarious "I'm a straining weightlifter working so hard" grunt to lift them both up. I wish I could lift 40% of my bodyweight. :-) He's in love with my cousin Brendan. We pull into their driveway, and before he can even see the house (it's a long driveway) he starts saying "BENdan, BENdan." Love it.

Bee is adjusting to her new dance class. It's a bit more regimented and ballet-focused (which I like and she seems to be warming up to), and I LOVE her teacher (who is the most beautifully graceful 60-some-year-old woman I've ever seen). She's also been excited about her new friends at Primary and getting to see her cousins so much. Every morning she says to me "I want to go to T's house to see Colleen."

We love being home. Just can't wait to get into our own space.