a third of your life

Visiting my parents' house always reminds me of how luscious a bed can be.

Winter project - create a nest-like cozy bed.

And sleep away the winter grays.

getting slightly ridiculous

So, after that last post, I then decided that what was really needed was for my craft room to get remodeled. (It is possible that I am in the midst of a big time procrastination project - but don't tell anybody.)

I have now painted the office/craft room, and then I'm going to sew some new curtains, get some cute pillows, and get an area rug. Oh, and hang up some art. I'll post pictures when it's done. The paint looks fabulous. I've been dying to do this for awhile, to make it into a real study. I figure it's cool that I'm spending all this time doing this, because the more inviting your home office is, the more likely you are to get work done, right? I also figure I'll feel happier in our tiny house if I have a little oasis. And the third reason for all this is that SG's room is upstairs and she never plays up there because she doesn't want to be up there alone, so if I'm up there working, then hopefully she'll spend more time playing up there. See, everyone wins!

I'm leaving for a conference in Boston in a couple of days, and then down to South Carolina for Thanksgiving. I'll be away from my little one for four whole days. :(
I have much anxiety flying - and especially flying by myself. Hopefully everything goes smoothly next week. This is my first time presenting at a conference too. It's just a poster, but it's still pretty exciting. But it's not helping my nervousness of course!

crafting therapy

It's that time of year when I start knocking around in my head ideas for homemade gifts. I always try to keep it realistic, and will occasionally get out of control - but it's just too much fun. Ever since I was a child I've loved choosing gifts for people - I keep a running list throughout the year of things I see that I think people will like. And I love making things - so viola, it's a match made in heaven. In the past couple years I've gotten better at choosing easy, fun things to make - especially things that skater girl can make. We made all kinds of fun things last year, wooden bead elves, these picture lines, knitted washcloths for her teachers, and wrapped locally made soap up in them. And last year I managed to pull off two very cute hand sewn dolls for her. I can't remember if I made anything for anyone else, but hey.

So this morning I had the inspiration to go through my stash, and pick out yarn for small gift projects. It's a great thing because I also get to declutter, another therapeutic act. And then, to top it all off, I decided that what I really needed was to make a bunch of pretty little drawstring bags to separate my yarn out and organize things a little better. Well, turns out these little bags are so fun to make, and use up those little scraps of fabric that I have laying around. (I've made three so far) When SG got home from school I got started on them, and she actually sewed up two herself. Today was her first lesson on the sewing machine. It's actually a perfect project to start out on. She decided that she's going to make these for her teachers for holiday gifts and fill them with treats. There! done and done. I really think that making things with your hands has the potential to lift you out of a funk. (there is science to back this up - but I'm just not going to go there today:)

Just read this great post on whether or not one should go to graduate school. One especially chilling quote is here:

"Somewhere in the back of your head, your dissertation or your oral exams will be burrowing outwards through your brain tissue with incisors of fear."

Essentially, the message distilled down is that you do not want to take the decision lightly because once you begin you will be a changed person, and you will not be able to become normal again unless you finish. Quitting is not an option, because you will spend the rest of your life with these horribly altered standards.

Hm. It's an excellent article. And seemingly true, although since I'm in the throws of it -- apparently I can't possibly know since:

"Independently evaluating academic life from within its confines is a near-impossibility."

Yikes. I'm glad in a way that I have my family who are oblivious to it all, because they keep me from slipping down into this slope of being unable to think about anything except academia which this article speaks of. But the flipside is of course how lonely I feel. Since I'm not completely engulfed in it, I don't relate well to the other students, can't join in their evening jam sessions, etc.. And I end up feeling not like a true academic because I'd rather knit toys than read another stupid article. I remember my neuroscience prof who graded our exams at her son's chess tournament and then had to apologize to the class for making errors. She is a brilliant scientist with three kids, and manages to always look great and have a smile. I look up to her, but then her area of research is stress - so I'm sure she has plenty of remedies, and a good perspective. I wonder though, what goes on in the dark recesses of her brain?


So, on another note - I've started reading this book, Weapons of mass instruction. Which I think should be required reading for... well everybody I guess, but mainly for those involved in the schooling of our children. What a CRAZY book. I read the prologue and literally felt my mind blown. It encapsulates everything I felt about school when I was a kid, but could never articulate. To me, The point of school felt like it was making everyone into mindless little automatons, to enforce class warfare and discourage original thought. And it's all the things that I fear when sending my kiddo to a traditional school. As she moped over breakfast this morning with some vague sense of dread, I can just feel it - she's going to have the same unsaid fears that I did. They are wordless, you are simply left feeling like there's something wrong with you.

She told me yesterday morning that a little girl told her she would not be her friend if she didn't believe in God, so she had to lie. Fuck. I wanted to say, "you don't want to be friends with that little bigot anyway" But instead I just told her that Jesus believed in kindness to everyone, regardless of their beliefs and that she should tell her that next time. It's hard to feel outnumbered when you're surrounded by nothing but rules of conformity. No support for the six year old who wants to wait for proof before she believes in something. Unicorns? Fairies? sure. But guy-in-the-sky who watches everything you do - no, you need to just take that as fact.

Evening Tea

Finally, after spending every waking minute together today, the child is off to bed and it is blessed solitude. So quiet. I puttered around the kitchen tidying up and then made a cup of tea - and now comes the moment when I can just sink into myself and make the important decisions, read? movie? read stuff on the internet? Ah. The pets are asleep too. After terrorizing each other all afternoon. It turned out to be a nice day. It was off to a rough start, at 4:30AM with said child waking up sick. But, after lazing around in pj's all day, by early afternoon she was feeling better and we were able to get out and enjoy the sun a bit. Take the dog to campus to get some library books. All in all, it turned out fine. Just what I wanted anyway, no chores, no work, no plans.

It just seems lately that every weekend, our every moment is planned. And it's usually very fun stuff, farmer's market and brunch, meeting friends out, and lately it's been climbing competitions, renting a cabin in the woods and fancy parties. Very fun stuff. But, so often it's back to the work week feeling that not much of a respite was had. Laundry's not done so the morning's are spent hunting for socks and uniforms, grocery shopping's not done so lunches are packed with strange things and dinners are ordered out too much. A balance is what I'm always striving for in parenting. In life. Unfortunately, being a working parent- you just can't give 100% to everything, it's 20 here and 30 there, 50 or even 75 is heroic, and usually exhausting. It's easy to feel down, especially when surrounded at work by people who can give 100% and still have time for leisurely late dinners and trips to the gym. It's easy to start to hate them, frankly.

But I'm okay with the fact that I'm not going to get a nobel prize. Or probably even a brief footnote in an intro textbook. That's okay, to me that's not what science is about anyway. But it is discouraging sometimes to feel like you are doing all of these jobs, but doing none of them well. A grumpy wife, a half-assed mom, and a by the seat of my pants student is what I feel like most days. I give myself a pat on the back if I can make it through the day without forgetting anything. (the list is always seemingly endless... pay that, mail this, pack that form for her, check that address, Thursday is hat day, wednesday bring laptop to class, friday bring change for the parking meter...sigh) And those are all the little niggling extras that change on a daily basis, in addition to the everyday things like for her, lunch, homework, and climate appropriate clothing. It may sound easy, but it never is - the other day I walked back from the bus stop only to walk in and find her lunch sitting on the coffee table. So subtract from my already meager work day an hour driving to and from her school. Is it thanksgiving yet?

No, I actually can't wish the days away right now - I need them to go by at a snail's pace as I now have until the end of December to write a 50 page paper that will determine whether or not I can become a doctoral candidate. The dreaded prelim. Actually, I'm looking forward to it. Of course, you can check back in on me in a month or two to find that attitude drastically altered. We shall see. I'm excited about the topic, I think that it's an interesting one. And I think that I'm making good time so far. Of course, I have to keep reminding myself, I haven't really started the hard part yet. So far, I've spent the past two weeks doing extensive literature searches, importing articles to a database, and organizing them. Then, over the next four weeks I get to read the 107 (gulp) of them, take notes, and finally, I've given myself a month to write it. This all sounds so reasonable to me right now. I've managed to come up with a very detailed time line, which I plan to stick to like glue, and have been so far. But then, I'm conveniently forgetting about things like holidays, travel, days off from school for the kiddo, and the fact that I agreed at some point over the summer to sub for a graduate stats class sometime in the next two months(the TA's having a baby), not to mention my duties to my research assistantship, that I'm presenting at a conference, and need to write another paper in the meantime. So, yeah - we'll see how it goes. I just keep hearing my advisor's voice in my head over and over saying "three months" (the amount of time was entirely my idea) at my proposal, with just the slightest tinge of what? trepidation? doubt? disbelief? or was it all in my imagination and he was just double checking? I don't know.

But nonetheless, I'm excited! I keep feeling like I could do this for a living. Maybe write textbooks, or edit journals. There must be some job that is perfect for someone who loves poring over endless databases, and reading all day long. Maybe I should've been a librarian. Well, I am what I am. And what I am is a mother/phd student - one of the craziest combinations. I think that it must be impossible to be in this place and not be inflicted with self-doubt, paralysis, guilt, and always feeling like I'm treading water. Add to that a husband who, while loving and great - has no idea what I'm doing, and is in the middle of his own swirling mess of shit creating a company, throw in a dash of - we have no family here, and finally sprinkle on top just for kicks a lab mate who is a type A overachiever and seems to perfectly obtain all that I feel I'm failing at. Let simmer for two months... by that time I should be cooked.

we have no culture

What is wrong with people? I just witnessed a jeans commercial which quoted this beautiful poem by walt whitman. A JEANS commercial. Okay, this is offensive to me for the following reasons. Reason 1 - jeans are clothes. We wear clothes to protect our bodies from the elements. The fact that clothes have become some sort of outer symbol for who we are annoys me. And the fact that companies exploit this fact also annoys me. Reason 2 - Walt Whitman was the shit. Levis simply does not deserve him. They sell denim pants for christsakes. Reason 3 - finally, this poem is beautiful, and powerful. I am sick and tired of advertisements passing themselves off as art, or culturally relevant. What is the point of this commercial? Is it to motivate and inspire? NO. It is to sell jeans. Nothing more nothing less.

If you want to be inspired and motivated don't buy jeans, they will not change who you are. But reading good poetry might.

1

COME, my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready;
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers!

2

For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, 5
We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers!

3

O you youths, western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you, western youths, see you tramping with the foremost, Pioneers! O pioneers!

4

Have the elder races halted? 10
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied, over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden, and the lesson, Pioneers! O pioneers!

5

All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O pioneers! 15

6

We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways, Pioneers! O pioneers!

7

We primeval forests felling,
We the rivers stemming, vexing we, and piercing deep the mines within; 20
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving, Pioneers! O pioneers!

8

Colorado men are we,
From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come, Pioneers! O pioneers!

9

From Nebraska, from Arkansas, 25
Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood intervein’d;
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern, Pioneers! O pioneers!

10

O resistless, restless race!
O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult—I am rapt with love for all, Pioneers! O pioneers! 30

11

Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress, (bend your heads all,)
Raise the fang’d and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon’d mistress, Pioneers! O pioneers!

12

See, my children, resolute children,
By those swarms upon our rear, we must never yield or falter, 35
Ages back in ghostly millions, frowning there behind us urging, Pioneers! O pioneers!

13

On and on, the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill’d,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping, Pioneers! O pioneers!

14

O to die advancing on! 40
Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill’d, Pioneers! O pioneers!

15

All the pulses of the world,
Falling in, they beat for us, with the western movement beat;
Holding single or together, steady moving, to the front, all for us, Pioneers! O pioneers! 45

16

Life’s involv’d and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves, Pioneers! O pioneers!

17

All the hapless silent lovers,
All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, 50
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying, Pioneers! O pioneers!

18

I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores, amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing, Pioneers! O pioneers!

19

55
Lo! the darting bowling orb!
Lo! the brother orbs around! all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams, Pioneers! O pioneers!

20

These are of us, they are with us,
All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind, 60
We to-day’s procession heading, we the route for travel clearing, Pioneers! O pioneers!

21

O you daughters of the west!
O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united, Pioneers! O pioneers!

22

Minstrels latent on the prairies! 65
(Shrouded bards of other lands! you may sleep—you have done your work;)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us, Pioneers! O pioneers!

23

Not for delectations sweet;
Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious;
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment, Pioneers! O pioneers! 70

24

Do the feasters gluttonous feast?
Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock’d and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground, Pioneers! O pioneers!

25

Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged, nodding on our way? 75
Yet a passing hour I yield you, in your tracks to pause oblivious, Pioneers! O pioneers!

26

Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the day-break call—hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind;
Swift! to the head of the army!—swift! spring to your places, Pioneers! O pioneers.

trying something new

So I've still been thinking of how to get unstuck, and I think I may have found a decent solution. It seems too simple to be effective, but then I think sometimes the simplest things are the best solutions. First, I made a detailed list of all of the work that I feel that I need to get done in the next three months or so. I wrote it in order of importance. Then I really looked at my daily schedule with honest eyes. I can realistically get to work at 8:30, after getting SG on the bus and that still allows me time to bike sometimes. And I have to leave by 4. Plus, lunch at my lab is very important. Everyone stops what they're doing and gets together in the conference room and has a leisurely lunch together. We rarely talk about work, mostly just politics. But anyway, not a long day. So then, I just went through and broke down my schedule into hourly chunks of time. For anyone who's interested here's what it looks like :)

8:30 - 9 matlab problems
9-11 - project for publication
11-12 - acoustics exercises
12-1 lunch
1-3 prelims
3-4 cochlear implant chapters

The odd thing about this is that I was working on all of these things before, but in a very scattered way. And somehow, knowing that when I start on one of these projects, that I'll be done in two hours or whatever, makes me really stay focused. And when time comes to stop, I just stop. Then I can take a little five minute break and it doesn't get out of control. And this way, everything really gets the amount of time that it deserves. Granted, if I could work until 6, it would be ideal. But I can't. And I'm just going to have to suck it up and do some work after SG goes to bed. It's also easy to shuffle this schedule around, since it's broken up in such a way, I can prioritize in a pretty clear way.
So that's it. A little piece of paper that tells me what to do and I'm happy. I can sit down at my desk and not feel completely overwhelmed. Here's hoping it will work. If only the rest of my life were as easy. Unfortunately humans are not predictable. Of course, if they were I wouldn't be in the field that I'm in, right?