Unanswerable Questions About Crabs

1) How can we not get pinched by a crab when we go swimming?

2) What if we go swimming in the ocean, and a crab is there in the ocean, and wants to pinch us?

3) Do crabs have eyes?

4) So crabs can see everywhere, and if we step over them, they can see our legs and bottom. How can the crab not see our legs and bottom?

4) Why do crabs walk on the sand in the ocean?

5) What if a bee stung a crab?

6) What if the crab was out of its shell and a bee stung it?

Next up: Unanswerable questions about bees.

Cupcake Moments

I'm going to go ahead and blow whatever flimsy pretense I had at not discussing the name of my town or university by linking to an article that has meant a lot to me over the years.

A friend of mine had a cupcake moment tonight. Her son's birthday party at school is tomorrow, and she ruined the cupcakes she was making for it. Of course this happened not at the reasonable hour of 7 p.m. or something, but at 10:30. She'll probably get up at 5 tomorrow. My colleague's cupcake moment reminded me of two things. First, of my own cupcake moment a year ago, when I ruined the cupcakes I was making, late at night of course, for my own kids' birthday treat the next day to share with their class. Fortunately I had the ingredients to start all over and make a second batch. Second, it reminded me of this essay written by one of my departmental colleagues.

Before my colleague published that essay in the Chronicle, she read it at a panel forum on campus about balancing work and life. Characteristically, she did not just show up to the forum to share a few rambling thoughts about her experiences, as the other panel members did. Instead, she carefully prepared and shared with us a couple of insightful vignettes that so well encapsulated some of the impossible and competing pressures she faced as a working mother. These stories were infused with my colleague's contagious humor and sincerity.

She told them so well, and the second one, the one about her daughter getting sick in the elevator, moved me so much because I could so easily see myself in that position. I didn't even have kids yet, but at that time, dealing with the tenure track alone seemed impossible. What I wanted to do, have a family on top of it, seemed impossible. The pressure was so overwhelming, in the moment of that discussion, that I struggled not to start sobbing right there in the audience.

My colleague, who I adore, was untenured at the time, and what she said at the end of her talk has stayed with me forever. She said, "If the university grants me tenure, then they are so lucky to get to keep me. And if they don't, then fuck 'em!"

And I wanted to jump out of my chair and cheer for her.

She got tenure.

Why is Slate Such a Crappy Rag?

A lot of thinking people sometimes stumble upon a terrible Slate article and then go on a rant about how wrong it is. And then their thinking friends say, "Well, what did you expect? It's Slate, after all." Home of the pseudo-science bullshit "evolutionary psychology" articles (OMG it's totally natural for men to be cheating sex addicts because that's the way it was on the veldt!). Home of articles with headlines like, "How to Hit a Woman". If it's sexist, anti-intellectual, or stupid, you're apt to find it on Slate.

So why, oh why, did I click on a Slate link about Dooce's separation from her husband? Probably because I've been reading Dooce for 8 years, and oddly, the news of their separation really saddened me. They seem like a fabulous couple, which is a naive thing to say when your only sense of somebody's life is through what they choose to share on a (very public) blog. But anyway. A lot of people in our real lives have been getting separated and divorced lately too, and in almost every instance it ends up surprising me. They seemed so great together! It goes to show that you can never know what is going on somebody's marriage.

So I clicked on the link to read the headline: "If Dooce Can't Make an Egalitarian Marriage Work, Who Can?" Seriously...that's the angle? Oh, Slate. Of course that's the angle. Find some way to suggest that traditional marriage is the only way! Egalitarian marriages are just unnatural and, really, impossible, am I right? I'm sure the separation had nothing to do with the very serious mental health problems Dooce has written about (including severe depression); it happened only because they had an egalitarian marriage. (Dooce has, to my memory, never actually described her marriage in that way, by the way). But they separated, therefore, egalitarian marriage is a sham! That's right ladies, get back in the kitchen pronto, because if you don't, you'll get divorced!

I know. It's my own damn fault for clicking on a Slate link.

Hearing Loss

Nora is currently having a massive tantrum in her room. I wonder if she is going to break a door. When she is good, she is very very good, and when she is bad, she is horrid.

Today we went to audiology, and Milo has significant fluid in his ears (no surprise there) and a moderate hearing loss. Significant enough that we need to do something to fix it so that he doesn't miss out on too much at school and at home. The idea is that if the fluid goes away, his hearing should improve. He also had an x-ray this morning that showed enlarged tonsils and adenoids. I don't know what any of this means, other than a follow up with an ENT doctor to learn more.

Ambition

Note: I shared this with somebody who said, "You have no clue how good you have it." Which made me think that perhaps this post could be construed as complaining, or ungrateful, and that is not how I feel. I feel incredibly grateful for my job. I am just self-indulgently musing here, but I do recognize that I've already got everything I need. The fact that I love going in to work is priceless, and I don't take it for granted.

**********

So, after tenure...now what?

I spent a long time on the tenure track telling myself that all I wanted was tenure. I just wanted a quiet life, and I wanted to be able to settle in and not worry about losing my job. I just wanted to be secure, and then I could sink into the obscurity of the typical movie professor's life, where nothing much ever happens, and there are a lot of slow moments, and shots of chatting with entranced groups of students under giant oak trees on sunny days. Stuff like that. That's all I wanted.

Being too ambitious always seemed kind of...uppity to me. I have no idea why. (Well, I have an idea. IBTP.) I've spent a lot of time trying to prove that I'm not uppity. I didn't even use the word "professor" when people asked what I did for, like, a year. It seemed too uppity. Look how down to earth I am! I slip on the tile floor and fall when walking to a meeting! All my students use my first name! I'm goofy and self deprecating! I'm definitely not an elitest bitch, right? ...right?

And then, last year, I had lunch with a woman in my department who laid out a game plan for me. It was an ambitious game plan, involving things I'd never contemplated for myself, but as she described it, it really resonated with me. I got excited about it.

I look at her, and at a couple of other colleagues in my department, people who are uber successful on a level far, far above my own. It is kind of appealing. Why yes, I would like to earn thousands of dollars per speaking engagement, as opposed to, uh, a dinner out on the town. And I suppose I wouldn't turn down an honorary degree or two.

But am I ambitious enough to really want to aim for that type of career, and to do the type of work necessary to earn it? That is something I'm not sure about yet. Because one thing is, I have small kids. That changes things somewhat, but I recognize that it doesn't have to be a deal breaker. Other people with small kids can and do devote an enormous amount of time to their careers, working very hard, traveling a great deal, and otherwise making a lot of sacrifices.

But I do like being able to spend the time with my family that I do. And, frankly, I like being able to have some time to myself. Time to exercise, time to commute by foot and listen to The Moth podcast, time to bake. I like that stuff. So...maybe that means the obscure movie professor life after all. Do I really want to work all the time? Maybe not. Do I want to take 10 flights in a week? No.

So maybe the obscure, quiet life is the one for me. But I do love my work, and on many, many days I feel frustrated when the day comes to an end and I need to leave work. I feel frustrated because I just want to keep digging into what I'm doing, the way I used to do before I ever had to adhere to a schedule. Also, I do hear the siren's call of the more ambitious career, and the fact that I hear that and respond to it surprises me. I didn't realize until recently that maybe I am actually an ambitious person.

So what will I do about it? I don't know yet. I don't know what I will choose. And, of course, not all of it is a choice. No matter how hard I worked, in theory, I'd probably never be like the speaking engagement lady or the honorary degree guy.

I could certainly work harder than I am working this year. This year, the I-just-got-tenure-now-leave-me-alone-I-need-a-nap year, I feel like I deserve some time to not make any decisions. To step out of the flow for a little while and see what emerges. So that's what I'm doing, along with playing sequence with Nora, reading about sea creatures with Milo, and trying to build up to 5 pull ups. I guess I can figure things out eventually. After I take that nap.

Unanswerable Questions of the Day

Mommy, do you want to know why I just like you so much?

Mommy, how many houses are there?

How many trees are there?

Are there as many trees as houses?

Mommy, what if I lived inside an eyeball?

Mommy, what do bears do?

Ice Skating

Something's starting to click!

Crunching or Punching

Sometimes Milo will say that what Jake does for work is "crunching numbers", or "punching numbers". He'll say, "My Daddy punches numbers." I was reminded of that because today I really am crunching numbers, which isn't something I do often for data analysis, but it's fun.

The other cute saying I've been hearing a lot is Nora's new term of endearment for Milo. For instance, yesterday when Milo woke up from his nap, I heard Nora say, "Hi Matey!" Or she'll say, "Hey, Matey, let's go downstairs and find Sammy!" Milo seems to accept being called "matey" as normal.

Stuck!

Nora obligingly took this photograph of our bathroom door, because I was too lazy to go upstairs.

So this morning I was in the bathroom, fiddling with the door. I'd noticed over the past couple of weeks that the door knob wasn't working quite right. It was sliding around and sometimes the door would not latch. It annoys me when the door doesn't latch, because then the door swings open of its own accord. So I fiddled with the knob in order to make the door actually latch.

And then I turned the knob to open the door again, and it wouldn't open. Turning the knob didn't move the latch. Also, when I turned the knob, I heard a little clinking sound. It was the sound of something breaking.

The kids were outside in the hall, and I was in the bathroom, separated from them, with a door I couldn't open. I fiddled with the knob some more, more and more vigorously, but nothing I did would budge the latch. Milo turned the knob again and again from the other side of the door, and that did nothing either. I was completely stuck in the bathroom.

Milo said he would run downstairs and get his (toy) tools. At that point I realize that there actually happens to be a screwdriver on the kitchen counter, so I'm about to tell him to get the real screwdriver for me, but then I notice that there is absolutely no gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. That's what happens in an old house. Some of our doors have gaps, some doors don't, some have slanted gaps. There was no gap here. No room to slide under a screwdriver, a phone, or a slice of bologna.

I rattled the hell out of the doorknob, and the door, sort of panicking and getting hot. It's not one of those flimsy, new construction doors. It's a solid core door. I thought, okay, I could have the kids get the phone and coach them through calling Jake. Wait, what's Jake's work number? I don't even have that memorized. I could have the kids call 911, which would be easier to dial, but that's a resort I really don't want to use. It's not exactly a 911 situation, except for the fact that I'm separate from my kids.

I could also climb out the window, onto the roof of the garage, and then get down that way. The only problem there is a) the roof is covered with snow and ice, and I was pretty sure I'd fall, b) I was barefoot, and c) the doors in the house were locked, so then I'd be locked out. But the kids could probably unlock the door for me.

I looked at the door knob. It'd be best if I could just take it apart. Two screws held the knob in. I had no screwdriver, but I had a pair of trimming shears for cutting Nora's bangs. So I used the scissors to get the screws out, and then I was able to disassemble the door knob, and then release the latch mechanism and escape from the bathroom.

I realized that if a kid had gotten stuck in there, we would have been in real trouble because the screws were only on the inside of the door, so there would have been no way for me to take apart the door knob from outside of the room.

So, there was our adventure for the day. As a result of that experience I decided it'd be a good idea to teach the kids how to make a phone call, so I taught them how to call my cell phone and taught them about calling 911. At least now if I have to tell a kid to make a call, they'll know how to do it. The door knob is off the door and I've ordered a replacement, so I think we'll be okay. May be a bit awkward for guests wanting to use the bathroom in the interim, though.

Nothing, really

Yesterday we went to a party and we used the party to get the kids into semi-normal clothing. Look, actual pants (not sweatpants) on Milo. And an actual long-sleeved shirt on Nora, one that matches her pants. Then I tried to take a picture but they kept making goofy faces.

The party was weird. It was a combination of Jake's work friends and friends of his work friends through a common church. One woman asked me, right after she learned my name and the kids' names, whether I am "able to" stay home with the children. I didn't really know how to answer that. It was awkward. Sometimes I feel like such a fish out of water.

Guess what? Speaking of those kids, they are starting to get the hang of ice skating. I should bring my camera along one of these days and take a video. They don't have to hold on to the chair as much now. They want to skate all the time. It's nice that we can just decide to do it on the spur of the moment.

We've only had about a week of real winter and snow and stuff and I'm already over it. I wouldn't mind spring right about now. I miss summer.

Here is the first in my series of exercise-with-your-kids videos, idea stolen from a brilliant source that I can no longer find, but I've been looking. (A dad curled his baby!) Next up, weighted squats. Just put the kid on your shoulders. Third, weighted push ups. That one will have to star Jake. Jake is badass enough to do pushups with a kid on his back, but that's a ways off for me!

Nora's Photography

I found a bunch of pictures that Nora took on my old camera over the last couple of months. She took a few new ones tonight and it was interesting to watch how much more deliberate she is about taking pictures now. She actually aims the camera at things she wants to capture (often Milo).

Here is her photograph of her own foot:

Milo, tonight:

Me, a couple of months ago:

Milo in September:

Jake. I'm always reminded how different Nora's perspective on the world is when I see her photographs of rooms and adults.

Milo in August:

Me and Jake in August:

What's real?

In a number of instances I have explained to the kids that snow monsters aren't real, so they don't have to worry about that. But they need a refresher.

Milo: Are snow monsters real?

Me: No. Snow monsters aren't real.

Nora: Milo, snow monsters are just in books and movies. They're not real.

Milo: Are sharks real?

Me: Yes. Sharks are real.

Milo: Are there sharks up north then at Grandma and Grandpa's house?

Me: Uh, no, because sharks live in salt water, in the oceans, and the lake at Grandma and Grandpa's house is fresh water, so there are no sharks in the lake.

Nora: Monsters aren't real, right?

Me: Right. Monsters aren't real.

Milo: Are sea monsters real?

Me: Uh, no. Sea monsters are just pretend.

Milo: Are crabs real?

Me: Yes, crabs are real.

Milo: What?!? Crabs are real???

He was genuinely surprised by that one.

Crashing Blanket

You know what's really boring to read about? 1) People's dreams. 2) People's lists of stuff they have to do. 3) People's complaints about how they're sick. So naturally I'm going to do #3.

I got a cold, and then got over it and got better (moved on to the post-cold bronchitis stage), but then I got a post-cold sore throat. It's super super sore and has been this way now for almost a week. Something that needs antibiotics? My approach to going to the doctor tends to be, "Wait a couple of weeks and see what happens." Because it's time consuming and irritating to go to the doctor so she can say, "Yeah, looks like you've got a sore throat there. Clear liquids." But dang, my throat is killing me.

**********

It was very cold today and I felt very crummy so I was lazy and stayed inside with the kids. When we go on outings, they do well. When I don't fully occupy their time with novel experiences, they turn their energy to other things, like fighting with each other. Or, in Nora's case, picking arguments with me. That child could start an argument with a rock. I think she gets a perverse pleasure out of arguing about things she knows are fruitless to argue about. It doesn't matter. It's not the destination of the argument that she cares about, it's the journey.

***********

Theoretically speaking, sometimes a professor gets a hold of her tenure case. I'm not saying this happened to me or anything. But, hypothetically, it would be a very strange experience to read the letters that 7 white guys in their sixties wrote about your worth. Not bad, but definitely...surreal.

As odd as it is, I think our dept. officially releases the full tenure case to professors after they officially get the stamped tenure letter (which always happens in the summer). In that time I may have more to say about this.

***********

I did 17 push ups in a row (on my toes, thank you) because I am incredibly motivated by praise from authority figures. Unresolved childhood issues can ironically spur a lifetime of achievement in never-ending fruitless attempts to garner positive attention and acclimation from others.

************

That thing about service increasing really is true. Somehow I've suddenly added to my service load not just IRB but also being a series editor for a practitioner journal and a strand leader for a conference and then I agreed to write this thing that's a research brief for practitioners for our national organization. I have tried so hard to say no over the years that I feel like now it is time to step up to the plate and say yes more. But I don't want to write that research brief thing. But I'll do it. But I don't want to.

************

The kids think it's hilarious to call Jake Mrs. Wimpydimple. Also, Nora made up a song about a crashing blanket that Milo thinks is the funniest thing he's ever heard. Crashing blanket! Who ever heard of a crashing blanket? That's just crazy talk!

Not His Hat

The kids have become enamored with Shel Silverstein poetry. Their favorite poem now is "Something Missing", which is accompanied by a drawing of a man wearing socks, shoes, a jacket, tie, and cap.

Something Missing

I remember I put on my socks,

I remember I put on my shoes.

I remember I put on my tie

That was painted

In beautiful purples and blues.

I remember I put on my coat,

To look perfectly grand at the dance,

Yet I feel there is something

I may have forgot --

What is it? What is it?...

(And then Nora said, "His hat?")

Snow Snow Snow

This morning, Nora said, "Today after school I'm going to shovel, okay? Okay??" Milo: "Me too! Can we shovel today?"

Sure, kids. Knock yourselves out. They think shoveling is such a novelty. Can we maintain this attitude for the next 14 years or so?

Our semester starts late in January, so we're still on winter break. I've been sick all week, but the kids are back in school so I've had the rare chance to actually, like, be sick and rest and stuff. On Monday I had to go into work for a bunch of meetings, and on Wednesday I had to take care of the kids all day, but otherwise I've taken a lot of naps. I've spent the week mostly napping and analyzing data from the comfort of my couch after dragging my sorry butt out of bed each morning to get the kids to school. It's been pretty luxurious.

Today I actually created a star chart for the kids for daily behaviors like getting dressed without a fuss, picking up toys, saying please all day without having to be reminded, eating dinner without fighting, etc. I never thought I'd be the star chart type of person. Desperation pushes you to new levels.

Yesterday when the bus let the elementary school kids off at the corner (right outside our house), a kid stepped off the stairs and looked at the snowy neighborhood and yelled, "Oh my God, it's GLORIOUS!"

It Was A Saab

This morning when I came out of the preschool and approached my car I heard a dad telling his 3-year old daughter, "This car was designed by the Swedes. It's built for snow."

This may be a sign that our preschool is a bit too posh for the likes of me.

Letting Go

It has been super warm here. We haven't had any snow accumulation at all this winter, so far, which is unheard of at this point. Today the high was 50 and it was sunny.

It's supposed to turn cold and snowy sometime tonight, so we took advantage of what might be the last nice day for a while and went to the botanical gardens. It was downright pleasant outside.

Look at that bare ground. So weird. Also, there are buds on my lilac bush. The poor thing thinks it's March instead of January. We also went into the greenhouse, which is warm like a tropical forest, with exotic plants and birds. Here is a self portrait:

It is always fun to be in this warm environment in the dead of winter (even though it hasn't exactly felt like the dead of winter lately). The greenhouse is big enough that you sort of feel like you're outside. It smells terrific. It's kind of nostalgic, although I can't actually say what it makes me nostalgic for. A combination of San Diego, St. Louis, and Kyoto in the summer.

2012 is shaping up to be a good year for me to permanently let go of some bad habits. Some of those things have been thrust upon me, unanticipated, but on reflection I've realized this is an opportunity for me to make my own positive choice to leave some bad habits behind for good. It feels good to make that decision myself and commit to it. When I make serious changes they tend to be for life, so it's not a trivial thing.

One of those things might be meat. We eat very little meat, and what we do eat is limited to chicken and seafood, but I think it may be time for me personally to finally let go of my attachment to those things. I also think it is time to try to move away from dairy as well, to some degree anyway. I could certainly consume less of it than I do now. None of this applies to the kids. I am concerned with their need for iron and protein and fat, and will do whatever I can to get those things into them. But when you get to be my age, things are different. I'm too old now to ignore issues like cholesterol and risks for heart disease and cancers.

I'm feeling very positive about letting go of the bad stuff and embracing a more healthy future, one that I continue to fill with hard exercise, fresh foods, enjoyable solitude, and time with Jake and the kids, family, and true friends.

Mylow

Today I saw a picture of a kid with the name "Mylow". Hey. Who knew Milo was a popular enough name to get its own special spelling?

I knew about the name Milo since I was a kid and read the book The Phantom Tollbooth. It's about a kid named Milo who drives his little car through the phantom tollbooth and then goes on all sorts of philosophical adventures.

I didn't want either kid to have a super popular name because I grew up with a name like that and it was a pain in the neck. In fact, from 4th grade through 12th grade I went to school with another kid who had my first and last name. We were always sort of vague enemies on principle. She wasn't a great student. Sometimes I'd get letters warning me that I was in danger of failing a class that I wasn't even enrolled in. In the fall of my senior year, no joke, my high school actually sent her SAT scores to my first batch of college applications.

There was a period in the 80s when lots of people named Amy would use alternate spellings. I started having to clarify that my name wasn't spelled "Aimee" and such. Huh. Never thought I'd see "Mylow". Actually, that's kind of an awful name, now that I think about it. My low.

Speaking of Milo, tonight he bit Nora on the back, hard, and broke the skin. OMG WTF. That was definitely Milo's lo.

Two Towers

When I came out of the bathroom, there were two towers of blocks flanking the doorway. Each tower had five blocks in it. I asked Nora how many blocks were there all together, and she said, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5...6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 10! Five and five is ten, and ten and ten is...[thinks]...twenty!"

It is interesting how development occurs in fits and starts across different areas. Before having kids I sort of assumed that kids would either be progressing normally, behind, or ahead in a general sense. But now I see that this differs across different skills, at least for my kids. Nora is very into counting, skip counting, backwards counting, adding, subtracting, and so forth. But...she's still not potty trained at night (not even close). She recognizes her letters and sounds out words now (with varying degrees of success). But...her motor skills are not so great so it is hard for her to write her name. Some things come easy and early for her, and other things come harder and later.

**********

A few days ago before the ice rink across the street turned into a big puddle, I let the kids try skating for the first time. Milo, accustomed to having an easy time at any physical task, had no caution and kept trying to take big glides. His falls were frequent and spectacular. Nora was more cautious and deliberate. Her falls were gentler.

Milo took a really bad fall, landing flat on his back and banging his head on the ice. After that, he was done. He cried and cried and cried. I took him to the bench and held him, but had to sit him there for a second to go help Nora back up. When I came back, there was a giant, 3-inch long stream of yellow snot hanging out of his nose, tears falling down his cheeks. So sad. I dug around for a kleenex and found an old, dusty crumpled one in my coat pocket. So I used the inadequate kleenex to clear away the enormous snot slug, and then had a new dilemma. There was no garbage can to throw away the inadequate kleenex. Searching around in vain, I then thrust it back into my pocket.

As I held Milo and comforted him Nora kept trying to skate, falling over and over and over again. Somebody gave her a little chair and she would hold onto it for a bit, but then she'd let go and venture away from the chair. Then she'd use the chair to help herself get back into a standing position after each fall. I had to pry her away from the ice so that I could get Milo home and dry. I think she would have stayed out there all day, falling and getting back up over and over again with no desire to ever give up. This is the flip side of Nora's persistent temperament.

The next day I reached into my pocket to pull out my glove, my favorite leather glove with a warm furry interior. As I pulled it on I felt something slimy against my wrist. The warm furry interior was covered in Milo's snot. I looked at the glove's tag. It said, "professional leather clean only." Sigh.

4th Year Check Up

I don't feel much like writing these days. Too much I can't really write about or don't feel like sharing anymore.

The kids had their 4th year check-up today. Nora weighs 24.5 lbs and Milo weighs 27 lbs. Milo is 37.5" tall and Nora is 37" tall. These sizes are puny but their doctor still thinks I should put them in kindergarten in the fall (a year early), which I am pretty sure we won't do.

Milo seemed to fail his hearing test, but sometimes it's hard to get him to cooperate so who knows. But I have noticed that his hearing is bad these days so we're going to go to an audiologist. He also has a sinus infection. Also, possibly enlarge adenoids and/or allergies. Nora seems okay. Despite the kids' slow growth the doctor thinks they're okay because they're on their own respective curves. Those curves aren't on the chart, but I guess following your own curve is more important than being on the chart.

I think we're all more than ready for preschool to start back up on Monday.