A More Fun Update

So, imagine my chagrin after I posted my seemingly witty and insightful (by my standards) update about how much easier it gets when the kids get older and then realizing as I go back, that, umm, I pretty much wrote that same post in April. And my April post was only 3 or 4 posts ago.

Wow.

That's pathetic.

The thing is, I'm writing tons, just not here. I'm updating facebook, twitter, Google +, and my professional blog (all are available through a google search), but I'm not doing much here. And when I do post here, it's repetitive.

WELL NO MORE! At least for today.

What do you come here for? Updates on kids and what it's like to be a crazy working mother of three. Here goes.

Conor is having a very lazy summer. There is a bit more TV watching than I am going to admit, which we believe has lead to an increase in sarcastic responses to the parental units. So ix-nay the ickelodean-nay. Even Nick Jr. But yes, I am letting him watch Looney Tunes and Tom and Jerry and even a little Scooby Doo. On the one hand, it's not PBS. On the other, it's so engaging that the child will spend 15 minutes re-telling and re-enacting the entire story for me. The most animated conversations I've ever had with Conor involve cartoons.

I now know as much about Tom and Jerry as I do about Conor's entire kindergarten year. It must be a guy thing because although I watched Tom and Jerry as a child, I never knew which one was which. When Dave and I were talking about this, Dave said "Well, of course, Tom is the cat." It never occurred to me. Then again, Dave can quote Bugs Bunny ("I should have taken that left at Albuquerque") and still does.

Bridget continues to blow my mind and explode my heart. Some parents, like Ayelet Waldeman, love their husband more than their children. I love my husband very much. But I fall in love with my children on a daily basis. Bridget is amazing. Her vocabulary and pronunciation is well beyond what it should be at this age. And her will! Her strong sense of self! Her hatred of bees! Wha?

Apparently at school this week, the teacher heard Bridget yelling NO! NO! and thought she was having a fight. Indeed, she was: a fight with a bee! She was smacking the bee on her arm with a spoon and yelling No! No! at it stung her. The teacher got the bee off her arm and Bridget cried just a bit. And then went back to eating her breakfast. No Damn Bee is going to get the best of my girl!

She is so strong willed and determined to let everyone know what she thinks that when our (still alive and perhaps not deaf) cat gets on our bed at night (after a 5 year absence in which we actually didn't miss her) and meows/howls until we pet her, Bridget will wake up in the morning, get in the cat's face, and say loudly NO! NO! That Scarlett (the cat) is also known as Psycho Kitty and is afraid of this imp should tell you something.

Bridget likes to tell Patches that he is a Good Dog! She told us this week what she wanted to wear "tomorrow"---actually saying "tomorrow". She blows us away and I cannot wait to get to know her better as more of her personality develops. (Although that statement alone conjures up scary images. More!? MORE!?!)

Christopher has become my best surprise. There is so much going on inside of his head. Of all three children, he has the deepest and quickest emotions--which reminds me of an adult in this house and it's not Dave. He can go from Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy to melting in .3 seconds. And his scowly face! I love it!! If it's a new situation or person, do not expect a smile. But don't be offended if you get the scowly face. Of course, as soon as we call him on it, it's a grin. But it shocks most people to begin with.

I am pretty sure I've talked about his sugar spot already---that place on his neck that is my favorite place to kiss in the world. All I have to do is ask for it, and he laughs and yells NO!! And runs, fully expecting me to chase him and eat him up. Christopher is also very funny--and Conor does not like to hear us say that. Still, Christopher can crack us up, with his sneaky grin and an impish look in his eye as he takes off running and swinging his one arm. I don't know why he does that, but when he Runs Hard, he bends his right arm and pumps it back and forth as he runs. That's how we can tell he's Running Hard. And if he's just standing there and pumping his arm, then we know he's dancing.

He also sings a lot. There are two favorite songs: Hello Everybody from school (Bridget "sings" it too. Actually, she just yells it) and Daddy's Home! (one of my original tunes that involves clapping and, well, you know the words already). And then there's the tweaking. Both the twins are obsessed with boobage. Mine, mostly, but here lately, Christopher has taken to lifting his own shirt and tweaking himself. That is odd. We are open to the children exploring their own bodies and appreciating them, but this one is just weird (not to be too judgmental about it). Any level of anxiety and that child whips his shirt up and tweaks his nipp.

I'm assuming this is a phase and we won't have this issue in high school. NONETHELESS. I was expecting touching in, ahem, other places and have the stock supportive yet directive sentence to use with the older boy in the house (WHICH I STILL SAY 5 TIMES A DAY), but "I know that feels good, but do that in private in your room or the bathroom" really doesn't seem to fit with a nipple tweaking.

In any case, I'm sure Christopher will be glad in the future that I've shared that. (As will Conor).

Finally, Me. Dave can update his own dadbum blog. (Or just a facebook status, honey!) I am enormous. I am the fattest I've been in my life without having a couple of other humans inside of me. Those two years of eating all I wanted while pg and breastfeeding were great. Unfortunately, as the twins stopped eating so much of me, I didn't stop eating so much of everything else. I'm sort of eating less and sort of exercising more, but so far no weight has escaped. I just discovered how much fun it is for Conor to go on a bike ride with me while I run. That's actually A LOT of fun and it's been tough to run without him.

This week's adventure involved finding the house where is best neighborhood friend is moving to. It's very close to where we are now, so we ran/biked past it. I got so excited when I saw their house that I missed the uneven sidewalk. Actually, I didn't miss it. I hit it dead on. This is the 3rd time in over 20 years that I've fallen while running. All three times, everything goes very slowly right after I trip. My thoughts speed up and slow down at the same time. "Uh-oh. I could fall. I am falling. I could catch myself. Can I catch myself? Whoops. No." Whacka whacka thunk. Knees, pelvis, hands, face. Thunk.

The outcome is that I clearly landed on my left knee first and it is currently covered in Winnie the Pooh bandaids. I somehow landed on my pelvis (?) and have an enormous bruise on my hooha. Seriously! Who bruises their hooha when they fall? I'm blaming the twins and my c-section and my lack of any sort of lower stomach muscles on that one. Otherwise, I am so uncoordinated and unconventionally contorted when I fall that people actually SHOULD point and laugh when I run by. Or get out of my way. Finally, my face has a couple of sidewalk rashes and I bruised my cheek.

I am very pretty right now. A bruised tomato on toothpicks, although at this weight, more like straws.

So now you have a blog post more like what I used to write. It takes a long time to write like this and I have a boatload of other things to write---including my REAL work--journal articles. But sometimes, I have to get these things out of my head--the things that keep me from going to sleep at night. In any case, now it's time to go write on Virtual Health Communities, which actually is sort of fun right now.

Birth and Death

I am so lame. I've been wanting to blog for weeks, but the ability to get to this computer (with the pictures) during a time when I had a few minutes to write and be inspired enough to say something interesting.... Well. Here I am.

What I've wanted to be posting first starts with this picture. Dave put in raised beds in the garden for me, and the day after a bunny mowed down our first round of beets and lettuce, added this beautiful, architectural bunny and rat fighting fence.

I love it. I love my garden with a feeling I did not know I had. I have missed actively gardening for about 4 years now. Three years ago was the diverticulitis; 2 years ago was hospitalization for twins; 1 year ago, I can't really remember, but I'm going to assume I was occupied with my twinnies. Nothing happened in the garden last year.

But this year, we've got lots of growth in a beautiful, beautiful space. I am much a believer of the intersection of form and function. It's got to be beautiful and it's got to work. Dave's handyman, craftiness has made gardening the most pleasant extra-work thing I do. Thank you, honey!!

So that's birth: the birth of a garden and the rebirth of my life outside of the twins.

What about death? Well, there is an interesting thing I only recently learned. After my first miscarriage, the chair of my department told a group of people at the time that my miscarriage--"It was for the better."

............

.................?

..................??!?!?!?!?!??!?!

What the fuckety fuck???

First, I got really upset when I heard that. I will be honest with you: it's the angriest I have been, perhaps in my entire life. The death of my baby was for the better? What????? Alcohol was likely involved with the anger considering I heard this during a casual happy hour, so let's blame that a bit for the anger.

But let's go a little further. And this is where I can easily move from being generous or nutty. The generous interpretation: He was making one of those stupid comments people make when women have miscarriages. It's entirely possible and, not unlikely, given his social skills.

The nutty interpretation (and by that I mean, I look like a completely paranoid nutjob) involves my state, at that point, of being an assistant (i.e., untenured) professor: it was better for my career that I didn't have another child. People bristle at that interpretation, but I think it's reasonable that he meant that, too. I am not trying to be coy about what was going on at the time, but for Dave and me, we believe this is an entirely reasonable interpretation. It's only nutty to those who weren't around us during that time.

He may have even meant a combination of the nutty interpretation and the more generous interpretation. A dead baby is a win-win for me!! Lucky me!

(((sigh)))

After I sobered up and got some distance from learning this information, I had a glorious revelation. And indeed, it came while I was walking back from my garden: I have everything I've ever wanted. I have my dream job, with my dream colleagues (mostly). I live in my dream house and I have my dream family. He's no longer my chair. He no longer works in my department. He no longer works at the university, and, he's not even in the country anymore.

So, yeah. I wish I could report back on some insight on forgiveness that I had. I don't have one. I'm not a good enough person to experience forgiveness that involves reconciliation and new close relationship with the "offending person". No. I think for me, forgiveness in this situation is just indifference. It's a feeling of "meh", which, I have to admit, is a pleasant one to have.

UPDATE: I spoke with my friend about his comment after she read this post and my "nutty" interpretation was the correct one. Fortunately, several of the feminists in the room (and the discussion was on INCREASING DIVERSITY AT OUR UNIVERSITY!) called him on this completely inappropriate statement.

Bronx Zoo's Cobra

I know that most people on the Internets are not on Twitter. The latest stats are that only 10% of folks on the Internets are also on Twitter. And it's hard to explain why people would want to be on twitter. You don't get to explain about a story in detail like when you write a blog and you don't get to learn about someone's life and develop relationships (at least in your own head) like when you read a blog. And the criticism is always "Why do I want to know what someone had for lunch? I don't care about that."

Honestly, people, it's not like all people do on twitter is talk about what they eat. They may tweet about what they are drinking, maybe, but that's later on at night and a whole different issue.

Oh, and as an aside, on of my colleagues came up to me and said I was the best example about what he didn't want to be on Facebook. I had posted a very funny (I thought) update about lingering puke smells around the house after the twins' bout with a stomach bug. He said "why am I reading this? I don't need to know about it!" Why, indeed.

Two words, people: Un. Follow. Instead, I blocked him, because I am passive aggressive that way.

In any case, have you heard about the cobra that escaped from the Bronx Zoo? Well, that cobra has started a twitter account. And I love it.

And I am not the only one. The twitter account started on Monday and already it's been featured on the NY Times, NPR, the BBC and various other news outlets. Ellen DeGeneres, Steven Martin, Jon Favreau, the New York Hilton, and even Sesame street have all referred to him (or her?) in their twitter feeds. There is even a hysterical video of baby twins talking to each other which has been re-interpreted into one warning the other about the cobra. It wants to eat baby toes!!

I tweeted last night: "It's somewhat hard to explain to "normal" people how one is following an escaped cobra on twitter #snakeonthetown" and it has been my most retweeted and responded to tweet ever.

What. Is. Up? For some reason, the word Zeitgeist comes to mind. Obviously, there's something about escaped cobras that captures one's imagination. And the idea of one touring New York ("looking for Rebecca Black. No reason.") and tweeting about it is funny.

But there's a time urgency here. They could capture the snake and then the tweets won't be so funny. The snake could die, and sort of the same thing. You can't really put off following this snake until some time in the future. We have to enjoy it now because it may be over in the next hour. (Or not. See the post by the vet above)

I cannot explain this easily. It is something I would like to research and explore in further depth. What I love most about twitter is sharing diverse, time dependent, special or unique events with friends and strangers. I would love to know what it's tapping into for me psychologically or sociologically. And when I've had more sleep I will pursue that.

But right now, I'm having a lot of fun following an escaped cobra on twitter. You might enjoy it, too.

Spring

I hate to keep changing the background and layout of my blog, but I am still not completely satisfied with it. I would like it to be fancy and eye-catching, but not so busy. Sort of like how I'd like my own life to be. ((Rudely laughing at my own joke))

So, um, yeah! Here we are in spring. Work-wise, I need to be reviewing abstracts for a conference and what I'd really rather do (besides writing constructive comments) is just to turn in my short assessments to the conference organizers:

1) Hell No

2) Yes, great job

3) Yes, but as a poster or interactive session

3) Nope.

That should be enough. It's relevant for conference organizers, but, alas, does not have enough specific feedback for the authors. (Really? Ya, think)

In mother news, Bridget was given an "incident report" this week for biting another child. The good news is that it is fully clear in the report that she was defending herself from the tooth-y onslaught of the other child. That is, she wasn't the aggressor--someone was trying to bite her, she knew someone was trying to bite her, and she got the first bite in, probably right after she said "Listen, fool." (She can channel Mr T when she is defending herself)

In working mother news, I have a much better internet connection, we have a printer that works, and the cat is still alive. Let me back up a moment. A month. Ummm, two months.

Two months ago, in that I took a work-life balance class for mid-level women academics at our university: How the heck are we supposed to do this thing called A Career that allows us to have A Life, too. I honestly don't know if that is possible, but one thing we worked on was our "tolerations." Tolerations are those annoyances you have in your life that if you took 10 minutes or $10 (or maybe a bit more investment of time/money), you could solve the problem and your life wouldn't have those niggling "tolerations" any more.

For me, besides exercise, some of the big tolerances we've been putting up with around the house is crappy internet service (from AT&T U-verse) and no working printer. As someone who works A LOT from home, these are problems. The night of the workshop, Dave read my list of tolerations and within 3 days, had fixed them. Or at least, these two. The Messy House toleration is ongoing. Let's just stop for a second and talk about how wonderful my husband is, shall we? Yes, he's wonderful. Ok, moving on...

What bothered me about ME is that I had also included on my list of tolerations: Cat Won't Die.

Really? Really, Anita????? It is a daily annoyance to you that your Cat Won't Die. What kind of heartless bitch am I? A pretty big one, apparently.

In my defense, the cat is 18 years old. If she were a child, we would be exploring college opportunities right now. It would be time for her to move on. She also howls at night. LOUDLY. Right by the bed. That is annoying. Especially since sleep is so precious right now, an 18 year old cat howling by the bed is a toleration, that could be solved. By, ummm. Well, a shoe would be a less extreme solution than death.

Of course, feeling very guilty, I started paying a bit more attention to the cat. And that's when we realized that she is completely deaf. I have no idea how long she's been deaf. But she is completely and utterly deaf. That's why she's howling. In the middle of the night she has no idea what anyone is doing and would kind of like the world to know she's still alive. (Fortunately, she cannot read and did not know of her place on my list of daily annoyances/tolerations).

So she is still alive and she is not on my list of tolerations any more. We are also paying her more attention and she is not howling as much.

Finally, a funny professor story. After I give lectures, I will often write notes to myself on the syllabus or on the PowerPoint slides if there was a problem and if I should revise the lecture. This week, I gave my lecture on Stress in the workplace and I had written on the opening slide (so as to catch my attention) "This is a BORING lecture!! FIX!" So, I did. I added more exercises and more places for the students to contribute their own feedback and experiences.

Then, yesterday when I was reviewing my notes before class, I realized: I had uploaded the PowerPoint slides on the web....and had not taken off my note: "This is a BORING lecture!! FIX!" Yes! On the first slide!! The first thing the students saw when they looked at the slides was how awful class was going to be this week!! And yes, they did notice it!

Great!!

What I appreciated was during the class, I kept asking: Are you bored? how am I doing? I absolutely LOVE the student who said, "I'm not bored, but I am less enthused than I was."

We stopped and did an exercise.

She's Alive!

Hmmm, apparently, I've used this same title for a blog previously.

Oh, Lord. We have had some sickness around here. It's taken about 3 weeks, but FINALLY, everyone in the house is healthy and back to school or work. I am really hoping that next year the twins will be immune to most of this crud, so we won't be in danger of becoming a CDC super fund site.

I've also decided not to try to combine this blog into a professional blog. I would love to have a fancy pants professional blog to talk about my take on technology, psychology, and parenting research/news. But I can't do it any time soon. And I'm afraid if I did it, I would most certainly put a stake in the heart of this blog. I like the Mother thing. And although I don't post much on it, and I certainly don't get the readers I used to, I need a little space of my own. It sounds very Virginia Wolff-ish, doesn't it? Eh, well. So be it.

In any case, I do see this blog moving more towards working mother issues and perhaps working mother in academia issues.

I still need to blog about a mid-career/work-life balance workshop I went to in January (JANUARY) and had some great insights on the "tolerations" in my life. (I keep calling them haterations).

The problem is as an associate professor with a big(ger) house and three kid---I not going to be able to find the time. I'm going to have to take it.

I Knew You Were Going to Say That....

Did you hear about the recent ESP research published in a top psychology journal? No, that is actually not the start of a joke. There actually was a research article published by a highly respected psychologist in a highly respected journal which possibly provides evidence of ESP. You can read the article here. It's not a short article, but there it is for you to read.

You can read a variety of reactions throughout this long sentence.

My take on this whole controversy is a bit different. Controversy, you ask? Yes! Psychologists are a wee bit skeptical and like to point out that there are no such things as ghosts, witches, astrology, ESP, and other superstitions. They are interesting in the way they protect (or harm) one's psyche but have absolutely nothing to do with reality.

So my take is this: Is there ESP? Unlikely, but I still find this study quite interesting: students were able to pick out the correct location of a randomly assigned pornographic picture 53% of the time while they only got the regular non-naked pictures 50% of the time. (College students apparently have a "gift" of finding naked people doing things they'd like to be doing themselves.) However, as you can see this "gift" is not too strong. Picking the correct picture 50% of the time is what we'd expect by chance--just guessing. 53% is not a big gain over 50%. But with enough people, it can be a statistically significant improvement.

So here is what I think:

1) The most likely thing that will happen is that these data will not hold up in additional research. I'm can predict (!) this outcome because this is what happens the majority of the time there is a new research finding. I actually do not have in my hot little hands the percentage that makes up the majority of the time, but I think it approaches 90% of the time. 90% of the time is a little bit larger than 50% of the time. And what it means is that we are constantly refining our research to find the "truth" and the first finding is not likely at all to be the final say in what is actually true.

2) I disagree with every single criticism of people who say this research shouldn't have been published or there is something wrong with the peer review system (where researchers anonymously review others' research to determine if it's adequate for publication). The data are what the data are. These results are neutral (as long as they weren't faked). If the results of this study don't agree with what you think, too bad, so sad. If anonymous reviewers can't find a flaw, then the research should be published. I guarantee you that the editor gave special care to picking out people who do NOT believe in ESP to get the best feedback.

3) Here is what I do believe will happen from this study: we are going to find a flaw. It's either going to be a methodological flaw (there is an error in the design or enactment of the study) or there is a statistical flaw. And what is going to be so cool is that it's going to push our discipline ahead in our research and statistics. Why do I say that? Because those reviewers couldn't find a flaw--this research meets the standards for good research in its current form. So whatever mistake was made is not something we as a discipline know is a mistake. And that means growth in how we study. Sounds good to me.

4) Of course, I could be wrong and there is ESP. But I'm not convinced by this study. I'm not convinced by any one study of anything. Unless, of course, it's my study because mine are all brilliant and insightful and completely accurate descriptions of the truth in this world. (((cough, cough, cough, wiping tears from eyes)))

So I think this is pretty exciting. Something good is going to come from this. It's going to take a while--several years at the least before the next studies are designed, data collected, analyzed, vetted and published, but how exciting for psychology!

It's almost as exciting as a talking dog. Which is what I want to talk about next in research.

And No Stuffed Animals Were Burned!

Perhaps you have heard of Amy Chua's essay in the Wall Street Journal about the superiority of Chinese Mothers. If you haven't, I'm going to guess you don't have young children. Or you don't follow the Internets all that much, which means you aren't going to be reading this blog.

Although when I heard Ms. Chua on the Diane Rehm Show (and WOW, isn't Diane Rehm beautiful!), she suggested that her extreme parenting (calling her children garbage when they get an A- or less on a test, threatening to burn their stuffed animals if they don't play the piano well, no extra-curricular activities or friends), is a bit tongue-in-cheek, my understanding is that that is not true. A friend of a friend is Ms. Chua's neighbor, and indeed, can attest to the truth of the dinner party incident related in the article. She does berate her children and she limits their social activities in order that they will be The Best and win The Medal. She loves them and argues that she believes they are the best and they can win the medal and that is why she pushes them so hard.

Clearly, this is not our style. On the other hand, I think Dave and I can push Conor a little bit more, especially in skills we know he can do but he's afraid at failing at. So oddly enough, inspired by Ms. Chua, we had Conor sit down after dinner the other night and practice tying his shoes. He has not learned this yet and it's probably past time. So Dave and I hid in the kitchen and mouthed GARBAGE! GARBAGE! towards Conor (because we are apparently that kind of parent). Conor took a minute and then shouted out, "I DID IT!!!!" "YAY!" we shouted back. "Untie it and do it again!"

A minute passed. "I DID IT AGAIN!" "YAY! Do it one more time!" And Conor did. We told him he could have an ice cream sandwich if he tied both his shoes and went out to the garage freezer to get one. He struggled a bit, but did it. And no stuffed animals were burned.

But, yes, we were inspired to push him to do it. (A push as harsh as blowing on him) And we are actually inspired to do more of this You Can Do It, Just Practice parenting. (And you may be thinking we are incredibly slack. But no, we simply have 19 month old twins)

In any case, Ms. Chua's parenting style could be on to something name calling and toy destroying notwithstanding. Research suggests that everyone can become an expert/genius in something. Come again? Genes change and adapt to the environment. From the article, "This means that everything about us - our personalities, our intelligence, our abilities - are actually determined by the lives we lead. The very notion of "innate" no longer holds together." We settle for mediocrity because we think we aren't innately talented enough when expertise actually comes from effort and self-discipline. According to this new research, even IQ (which has long been thought as an innate, stable trait) changes according to the environment.

I love this research. FINALLY, science is demonstrating that genes apart from the environment mean nothing and the environment has no effect on people outside of the genes a person is given.

This is huge to me, and probably not in the way you think. We think in terms of cause and effect. A causes B. Genes cause people to Be The Way They Are. But NO, others argue (and I have tended to be here). Environment is the stronger contributor to people becoming the way they are. But that's silly, too, because it's obvious that people have certain proclivities; you can't make an introvert an extrovert no matter how hard you try. So scientists have been asking the question, which is more important: nature or nurture.

As I've grown as a researcher and as a methodologist, I've realized that one of our main problems is that we have a hard time thinking in terms of interaction (genes and environment mutually cause people to be the way they are), particularly when the interaction is recursive---the interaction is continual and progressive. I think the next big leap in the way social and biological scientists think about why people are what they are and do what they do. It's hard to think this way. It takes some mental effort to really work through the theoretical logic (not to mention the analyses!) of research like this. But I think generations of researchers behind us are going to build on our mental efforts and find it easy--just like we all naturally think in causal terms, which wasn't the case before the Renaissance. Before the Renaissance, witches caused everything.

And going back to the beginning of this entry, witches can "cause" genius, too. There is a lesson here, besides it's really fun to silently mouth "GARBAGE!" and "I am going to BURN all your stuffed animals if you don't tie your shoes!!!" at your children when they are doing something. For us, it's that our limits are self-imposed. We can do more than we think we can. And we want our children to know that they can do a lot of what they want, too. They just need to keep trying. And we'll support them, and not abuse them, along the way.

Happy New Year!

So much for my plan of posting every week!

I hope your new year is going well. December was a bit rough around here. The kids were sick the first two weeks and out of school the last two weeks. They started back this week (WOOOHOOOHOO) and I've finally had a break. But my "break" has involved getting caught up on work and prepping for my classes--including one that is a new prep for me and will be the last time the class is offered. Nothing like seeing lots of hard work go for naught.

In any case, there is so much to share with folks, well, actually just to put in this blog so I remember it. I will start with Christopher, since he has been the focus of our attention with his 18 month sleep regression--and subsequent waking up every 2 hours.

There is a spot on Christopher's cheek, just above his jaw, that is so soft and mushy that it is the best spot to kiss I've found on any human being. Kissing that spot (and I kiss it a lot) is one of the highlight's of my day.

Another Christopher feature, less kissable, is his habit of pooping while in down dog position. Oh, indeed-y, it is clearly obvious when Christopher is doing his thing when he looks like he's creating a new down dog/plank merge. Nonetheless, the poop I want to remember forever (truly) involves 5 to 10 minutes of dramatic down dog producing yoga one tiny, yet perfect, still solid and recognizable blueberry.

Have I mentioned how much he likes blueberries? He would gladly eat a complete pint if we let him. Apparently, he was so stuffed on that day that one popped out. (Pooped out!!)

Ah, yes. He is an adorable little boy. We actually call him Kisstopher frequently because of how much he likes to kiss and be kissed. His cousins have suggested that we drop that nickname before he hits high school. Well, I guess so. It actually might work to his advantage. But we'll wait.

I am seriously thinking of starting to blog more "other thing" topics here, such as psychological research (have you heard about that new ESP study? Fascinating!!) I'd also like to start talking more explicitly on the difficulties of being a working mother, even with the flexible job that I have. I'm not sure what audience these topics will attract, and if I really want those audiences to learn so much about my infertility, miscarriages and breastfeeding exploits. ALTHOUGH, I'm not ashamed of any of them and the more we talk about this stuff out in the open, the more it will be normal.

In any case, I'll actually have to BLOG. I want to. And if I'm doing it about work stuff, I'll feel less guilty doing it before all the kids have gone to sleep.

Oh, Dear

We've been praying for an easy year this year. Apparently, God said HA! Well, it's not that bad, but it's certainly not "easy."

First, last week, my good old friend "Aunt Flo" returned. I was actually quite surprised. My cycles started back up when Conor hit 10 months old. The twins are 10 months and 3 weeks old now, so the timing is about right. But now I am breastfeeding TWINS. Two babies. One boob for each. And yet, my cycle has returned. I have imagined the conversation going on inside my body:

Ovaries: Should we send one down? It's about that time again.

Boobs: No way! I'm workin' double time up here. There's no way she would be able to support another baby.

Uterus: Have you SEEN her ass? Go on, Ovaries! Send one down. Heck, send two!

So that was a lot of fun.

Then on Friday, we were filmed for part of a Blue Cross Blue Shield Commercial. I'll post more about that when it comes out, but despite having lived in Los Angeles for 10 years, we were a bit surprised about the crew that arrived for the process. Make up, lightening, sound, BCBS big wigs, and a director and producer. My role was essentially to stare lovingly at Dave as he told our story, not for any sexist, "wifely" reason and pretty much because I had no idea what had actually happened. Sadly, my staring at Dave involved looking at him in profile, and I predict an uncanny resemblance to Professor Snape in the commercial.

On Saturday, we attended our first NICU reunion party. This was quite nice. It was a HUGE party with lots of families attending. We saw a couple of our nurses, which was quite nice. We did not see our favorite nurse, but we also missed Nurse Control-A-Lot, so overall it was a win.

This morning, on the other hand, I had to attend an academic integrity hearing for a student of mine whom I caught plagiarizing. You might think that would be an easy thing to do: AHA! A student has been caught doing wrong! I will get him/her!! You cannot imagine how it is not like that at all. At our school, hearings are rare. Most of the time, students get a "settlement" in which they admit their guilt, receive their "penalty" and the information is kept top secret for 8 years and then destroyed. So, cases like this are the exception.

And this case did not go as expected. There was lying, denying, external attributions of fault, anger, sulking, admissions of other plagiarism, and general Things That Are Not Good. And that was just me!!

I jest.

It was bad. And it was bad to see the student do what I would presume are all the same things that have gotten him/her out of trouble before. This was not a growth experience for this student. This was not a moment that is going to make him or her finally straighten up and fly right. This was just one stop in what I would guess is going to be a long line of messing up rather significantly. He/She did not get out of this. He/She was found guilty and was dealt a pretty severe penalty. Still, there is no relief.

And the emotional fallout for me has, surprisingly, been high. I protect my students. I cheer them on and coach them and want them to grow and do well. I recognize that not all are at that stage in their lives or have that goal, but if they want it, I want to help them achieve it. It's not fun and it's not why I'm a professor.

Oh and what else? I forgot to register to review for a conference so I may have let that person down. I have my first dissertation defense on Friday (on self harm in adolescent girls. Light and fun topic!!). I have 25 student project papers arriving tomorrow and another student waiting for another review. AND Christopher has a double ear infection and is quite cranky/sick.

There is more. There is always more. But I'm sure you're tired of hearing of my whining. God(dess) knows I am.

Bread

Michele from In Between the Parentheses, who is a real bread baker, asked about our bread. We are still following the Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day book. Honestly, it is the easiest thing I've ever cooked. And 5 minutes a day is the maximum I spend making the bread.

The challenge, though, is in the planning. If I want bread tomorrow night, the easiest thing to do is make the dough tonight and then bake it tomorrow afternoon. That gives it time to rise and time to bake and cool. But my active time in actually doing something is never more than a few minutes a day.

We've even been making sandwich bread using their dough. I bought some wheat dough and tomorrow, I'm going to try out the light whole wheat bread. We've even made our own pizza dough using their recipes and it's YUMMY: light, crisp and fresh tasting.

Have I mentioned we now have a weekly pizza night? Every Friday night is pizza night. One pepperoni for Conor and Dave and one grown up pizza for Dave and me. (Dave eats a lot of pizza). This week's grown up is going to be some variation of chicken and pineapple.

OK. Time to wind down.

Have I mentioned how wonderful our new nanny team is? How AMAZING? How much the babies love both of them and How. Much. They. Clean. The. House. A friend just pointed out some research that women professors with paid help at home are more productive in terms of publications than others. I'm thrilled to find this out. It may make next year's choices a lot easier---stay with Nanny Team or go to daycare.

Good Lord

And I don't mean that in a positively religious way.

Yes, what did I last post? And when? I just checked the blog and indeed "Overwhelmed" was the last thing I posted about. And it's pretty much all I've felt for the last 8 weeks or so. Christmas while moving with twins and breaking in a new nanny to prepare for going back to work after being off for 9 months? Well, let's just say I don't recommend it as a positive influence on your marriage or your sanity.

We have, however, survived. And although there was that memorable cookie dough throwing incident on Christmas Eve, by Christmas day I felt we had rounded a corner. At some point, I had to just stop and realize that my family doesn't care all that much about the quality of the food or the craftiness of the decor. And really, the most important thing was that Santa had a wide welcome mat into our home.

We had a bit of a conundrum with Santa that my Mom and Dad generously saved. Dave and I are apparently one of the few people in America who have decided to save money for presents beforehand as opposed to just spending and paying off Christmas for the next couple of months. This means we have a budget and it is pretty limited. Conor really, really, really wanted a special Lego set and if we bought it, it would pretty much eat up his entire gift budget (we did go over budget for him, but still, he would have had squat if he'd gotten that set). So we told him Santa had to spread his gifts out and he probably wouldn't get this set.

On Christmas morning, Conor was very happy with his gifts from Santa and did not overtly express disappointment that he didn't get that particular Lego set as he got another Lego set from Santa. Well, Mom and Dad bought him that Lego set for Christmas. When Conor opened it, well, I've never seen such an expression of bliss and happiness over a gift by anyone in my life. He hugged it and gave a very contented smile. And my Dad (trying to save our face) told him that they had asked Santa not to give it to him so that they could do it. Conor then interpreted this to mean that Santa had brought the present to my parents who then brought the present to him.

I am so happy my parents gave him that Lego set, but I tell you what: I have never felt like such an ass in my life. I don't care WHAT Conor asks for next Christmas from Santa, he's getting it. He can have a god blessed pony next year if he wants it. Indeed, this would be the year he should ask for a new car, because he's not getting one when he turns 16. Yes, in the scheme of things, we could have afforded that Lego set. But we were trying to be frugal since we're running up on some dire straights financially. Still, that one moment of joy in what Santa wrought would have been worth the extra money. This experience also makes me feel very empathetic for folks who simply cannot afford that special gift for their children. The guilt they must feel has to be overwhelming.

Ok, enough o' Santa. I'm back to work this week for the first time since April 13. I know that because I found the receipt for my lunch and indeed some of the lunch from that date still on my desk. Lovely. I obviously was not planning on being out of work for the next 9 months. Even I, slob that I am, wouldn't have left a dirty fork, a milk cap or any of the various half filled cups on my desk for that period of time.

I like going back to work and preparing for classes and working on papers and grants. Our daycare situation, however, has become unsettled in the last two days. We have confidence that everything is going to resolve itself, but it is a wee bit stressful now.

As for the house, we've unpacked all but three boxes and are finishing the last major projects. The house is cleanish, except for the Lego explosion that is Conor's room. We're hoping the Ikea toy storage set will help us in that area.

Life with the twins is actually going really well. They are finally sleeping in their own room in their own cribs!! WOOHOOOHOOOHOOOHOOOHOO!!! I'm a bit excited about that. And despite what we were warned about the transition from our room/bed to theirs, it was nothing. There were no crying or anything. Let that be a lesson that your mileage may vary quite a lot from other people's experiences. Even better, the twins' naps have snapped into place. We are not training them: the naps are emerging on their own. Hallelujah and a-frickin'-men. I feel a lot better having the nannies step in when the babies are more stable.

I feel like I'm giving a book report of my life. I'm ready for some sanity to come back here. Some quiet? Some stability? A few minutes to collect my thoughts and relax? Yeah. I do sometimes step back from the dinner table and observe the chaos and wonder when that's going to happen, too.

Overwhelmed

I am cutting myself some slack.

Nonetheless, things are feeling quite overwhelming to me today what with the move and still unpacking and finishing the house, trying to clean an unpacked house, starting back to school in one month, prepping a new class, learning a new computer system for class, revising an NSF grant, submitting at least one conference paper and preferably two and/or perhaps a symposium in one month, shopping for Christmas, deciding on and sticking to our Christmas budget when I can't get out of the house to shop and Amazon's days of free super saving shipping are drawing nigh, transitioning to a new nanny, providing the nanny with resources and family beliefs on bonding and interaction and feeding, learning appropriate interaction activities for the twins and nanny(s), trying to keep on the good side of nanny(s) because losing them screws us in innumerable ways for this semester, keeping track of Christopher and Bridget's health/eating/development, trying to eat different foods to help Christopher's skin, going to the bazillion wonderful Christmas recitals Conor is in, finalizing Conor's kindergarten choices, deciding whether twins are going to stay with a nanny in the fall or go to Conor's daycare (applications due in February), figuring out how the HELL we're going to make it financially until July when Conor stops daycare, and generally just trying to remember to breathe and eat and pee.

There is more, but these are the top things on my mind.

It is times like these that I do realize that THANK GOD I AM PAST TENURE and I can just relax and do things one at a time. (Instead of everything all the time, faster and better, which was life before tenure)

The doctor called Christopher's eczema "run of the mill" typical eczema and prescribed a very mild oily cortisone steroid for flare ups. We are to keep the child lubed twice a day with Cetaphil lotion (or one the doc recommends, which I imagine is expensive and has paid him money to recommend). I'm glad we went. The 1% cortisone cream did make a difference, but I'd rather have a doctor's advice when putting steroids on my child's face.

In any case, I feel better getting it out. And now I shall self-medicate with a glass of wine. Have any idea when I'm going to fit exercise in my schedule? Cause that's really what I'd like to self-medicate with.

Ramblings

God(dess) bless the neti pot. It certainly is not the most attractive thing I've ever done, but boy is it making a difference in this sinus infection.  Yes, the antibiotics have stopped the major infection pain, but it's the neti pot that is getting everything out of my head and, I feel like, healing the underlying problem.  I'm totally talking out my ash, but that's what it feels like I'm doing.

The weird part is how sometimes in the middle of a cleanse, it sort of stops.  I imagining a dam of snot it's working around (and now you are too!) that it finally destroys with its salty ways.  Loves it.  Weird as hell looking, but if you have allergies or sinus problems, you should get one and clean our your head.

Yes and the one I received from my ENT at the last visit really points out the differences between eastern and western approaches to medicine.  A neti pot is a nice gentle cleanse of one's sinuses.  My ENT was all excited about the bottle he gave me so I could shoot the saline solution up my nose.  "It uses a lot of pressure" is excitedly assured me.  

Yeah.  Thousands of years of gently rinsing one's nose vs. powerfully shooting water up my sinuses.  Nothing like using a bomb to solve a problem that a gentle stream of water was doing just fine with. 

Fine.  I'm just ready for it to all clear up.  I think we're getting close.  

In other news that occupies my mind. are those of your outside of NC hearing what those of us inside NC are hearing about our former governor?  His wife and son have used campaign vehicles for their own personal use.  Some dude was letting him use his plane as a campaign contribution without reporting it.  And the ex-gov's wife had an $800,000, five year,  adjunct teaching/admin job at NCSU for which a national search was cancelled so she could be hired.  I've mistakenly thought our state government was ethical.  Now I think, we've been Blagojeviched.   Just throwing that out there on the blog.  It's bizarre to open up the local paper and learn of yet another bizarre unethical allegation against our former gov.  

Finally, our remodel should be starting today.  The carpenters are supposed to be stopping by to frame up the attic and they are supposed to be digging the foundation for the small addition.  So far, I see no activity.  But our financing is FINALLY completely in place and they are ready to go.  I'm ready for them to get going. 

New pictures of my enornmous belly and what Dave's done so far on the house coming soon.  I need to recharge the camera so I can download the pics.  

Off to work on finishing up an NSF grant.  I'm pretty psyched.  Over the last two months, I will have submitted and/or completed two book chapters, an NSF grant, a few journal reviews, my first PhD  student's qualifying exams, and published an undergraduate journal.  Not so bad for working in bed, eh? 

Being a Psychologist

One of the nice things about being a psych professor is having colleagues who know a lot about human cognition and behavior.  A good friend/colleague pointed out yesterday that the twins don't understand there are two of them in my belly. It takes a long time for infants (much less babies in utero) to understand that there is a world apart from them.  Infants don't understand that they end at the boundaries of their body and the rest of the world starts then.

What that means, we figured out, is that the twins probably "think" about each other as part of themselves.  There is not this "other baby" in here with me.  There is  "me",  and sometimes I kick myelf in the head or I take up too much space and squash myself and sometimes, I can cuddle with myself.

But it certainly explains why twins should share the same bassinet in the hospital and why they sleep better  beside each when they are still newborns/infants.  Otherwise, they are missing half of themselves.  

Mother Things

The trip to the dentist continues to be important in the Mother Thing household.  Conor is checking the morning and evening circleson  his Brushing Board.  We've always brushed morning and night, but now there's somethign to check and so he likes it very much.  He's also very concerned that we finish brushing his teeth with little circles.  They repeated that several times, so he's very concerned that we do it correctly.  We oblige.

Our architect came by on Weds with the drawings for the remodel.  He's recommending a second story master suite with a loft and taking over the back deck for the family room.  We actually LOVE the drawings.  It will really make our house more Arts & Crafts-y and add on space without just plopping big rooms around the floor plan.  It will always be a smallish house with smallish rooms.  But it will feel bigger and actually have more space.  In any case, we have to figure out if and how we can afford the remodel.  And there's an issue with the kitchen window we need to figure out, but other than that, we're loving this plan.  

So far, the trip out to the clinic in CA is still on.  Things look good right now, but I've thought that before.  We'll see what happens in the next few critical days.  I did finally figure out that icing BEFORE I give myself shots decreases both the pain and bruising.  I was doing it afterwards, but now I no longer shout out curse words if I hit some painful spot.  It still looks like Dave has beaten me with a stick on my belly.  But, you know, whatever.  

I had to tell my classes that I am leaving for nearly two weeks for a medical leave.  I'm keeping the real reasons private (for once!), but I didn't want my class to think I was in danger of dying or anything.  Then again, if I told you I was going to a clinic in California for nearly two weeks, what would you think?  Well, if you could see me, you might think I was going out for cosmetic surgery!  So I did tell them that 1) I'm not dying and 2) I'm not getting cosmetic surgery.  They thought that was very funny. (Cuz I could probably use more than a little at this point!)

Nonetheless, we have a boatload to do to get ready.  And I haven't even told you about She and Ne (they rhyme).  I promise I will tell you about She and Ne soon.  This is one thing we have to get on record before they go away.  

Ramping Up

Well, the medications are starting to ramp up for our next cycle.  We're heading out in a couple of weeks and I'm hoping things work out this time.  It's incredibly weird to be leaving for so long in the middle of the semester.  A good friend is lecturing for a week in my undergraduate class, and we're meeting over the weekend for my graduate class.  All in all, that will work out well.

I'm still recovering from Bunny Stomp 2008.  I did not get the reaction online that I received from my FtF friends--the screaming, the hold of one's face in one's hand and the general disgust at having someone who could step on a bunny in one's presence.

Perhaps I did a better job at describing the pitch black road between the two streetlights, the hard pillow/soft book feeling of that particular step, and the (not being flippant here) the horrible screams that ensued, both the bunny's and mine.  I have apologized to everyone I can think of:  God, the universere, the bunny, every one.  And I am still having a hard time dealing with that experience.  

People ask how I couldn't see it:  it is so dark here right now in the morning.  The sky doesn't even think of getting lighter until 7 am, and I was out there about 6 am.  

People ask how it is physically possible that I stepped on a bunny:  my call is that the bunny was already injured, a thought that comforts neither me nor the bunny.  

I don't know if I have shared my experiences of running and jumping over a bird that flew up between my legs or scaring a mouse once or getting into a fight with a squirrel.   But I'm starting to get a wee bit paranoid with the wild animals and my runs.  And wondering what it is about me and my running that I am a hazard to mostly innocent animals while I'm out and about. 

Still Here

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth.  It just feels like I have, at least to me.

I never believed folks when they told me that life after tenure isn't really that much different than life before tenure.  And in some ways, folks who told me that were really wrong.  I am much less stressed about my future here.  And I am sometimes highly cognizant that I am an associate professor with all the rights and privileges that come with it (essentially, I can be cranky and it won't bite me in the butt).  I am very happy to be on this side of that employment decision.  And that makes me very happy.

Nonetheless, things are not easier.  I didn't work two Sundays ago and thought I would die trying to catch up the rest of the week.  I still have a lot of manuscripts to work on, including one I'm turning in today (a revise and resubmit that I think is going to make a big splash in my research area).  I've got more students who are working with me and who want to work with me--all bright, hardworking students who I am thrilled to have on my team. But it's a lot of work.  I'm also upping my service work and am having to deal with a transition in one group that is, quite bluntly, been one of the biggest pains in my booty in my academic career.  And I'm going to have to do something pretty big.  It's the right thing to do, but it's going to be tough.  

And things are moving along in the IVF department.  Since the last two times, I've felt burnt by having to come back and report bad news, I'm not saying squat here until we know absolutely for sure one way or another.  

And I'm still trying to exercise.  I gave up running, but with my new orthotics, I think it's a possibility again.  However, it will not be a possibility again on my normal running route.  Besides stepping on a dying bunny in the dark (I think it was a bunny.  I stepped on something and it squeaked.  Gross to the extreme, even if I do hate bunnies now), I literally ran past two men stealing a car!  This was definitely in the shadier side of my 'hood and they were definitely up to no good.  They were fiddling around under the front of the car and in the glove compartment when I ran by and waved (I always wave).  And then I heard the trunk pop and I thought, it that was their car, they wouldn't need to finagle it to open the trunk.  I then sprinted as fast as my fat flabby legs could take me to a local gas station and called 911.  I would normally have waited to call 911 until I got home, but they saw me see them and the look they gave me was not "Good morning, jogger!!!" Of course, maybe they had a flat tire. I don't know.  In any case, the cops could help sort that out.  

So there you go.  Running over bunnies and into potential car thieves and not getting to eat bon-bons all day at work.

That is how this academic year has started.  Thank God(dess) that fall break is in two weeks.

(Almost) Victory Garden

Well, we did it.  We took the plunge.  

No, we didn't finally buy a gun and shoot the bunnies.  Instead, we put a fence around the garden.  And for the first time in a really long time, I now have lettuce, chard, beets, fennel, and broccoli growing in my garden.  It has been so very long since I've had the positive reinforcement of planting something and have it grow that I keep staring at these very small and common seedlings and feeling quite proud of myself.  

It took two days of hot, sweaty work but I think I might actually have my garden back.

Of course, there were some nibbles off of two of the broccoli plants and we suspect a rat.  Indeed, Dave set several traps and this morning, the leaves were all still on the broccoli, but there was one less rat.  

We are also quite pleased now that should we choose, we could put rat poison in one secure corner of the garden and Patches would be safe.  We could also electrify the fence (with a very, very low voltage--static to us, big zap to bunny/rat).  But at this point, we're sticking with the regular fence and the rat traps.

And we are greenly happy.  

I'm not sure if anyone has noticed the Twitter on the side of my blog.  I am finding that it is a lot easier to post a quick tweet than a full on post.  Feel free to check back in to the blog or even follow me, if you'd like.  I am fully aware that my life is not *that* interesting, but the mother thing does have more to say than she has time to in the blog.  

And for those other academics out there who may be reading, let me share that this first semester after tenure is crazy busy.  I thought I'd be all sunshine and butterflies, but lord, stuff is going on and it feels crazier now than it ever did.  The good news is that it's just a boat load less stressful.

Fay

Dadgum, it's raining now here. The university is actually flooded and they had closed off roads around the campus this afternoon. Six years and a boatload of storms and I've never seen that before.

After my first class today, I was wading through a river that is usually a sidewalk and, along with the students, decided to walk in the landscaping mulch as it appeared drier. And then my high heel shoe sunk into the mulch up to my ankle. I thought I was going to fall over into the water and spend the rest of my day in soaked, muddy clothing. Fortunately, I just screamed and grabbed a student! Then he screamed and grabbed another student. And then she screamed and grabbed other student who screamed and grabbed another student and so on and so on.

So here's a confession. If my semester is anything like these last two days (the first two days of the semester) my head is going to pop off of my body!! Good lord, I have been busy. I thought that tenure would mean a little breathing room. Certainly, the pressure is off. But oh my goodness, I do not have a second of free time. It's good, but it's also crazazy!!

We'll just have to see how this year all works.

Thank God the Olympics Are Over

Although I am dealing with a bout of pre-semester insomnia, I am so glad the Olympics are over. Maybe now, I'll stop worrying about who is going to medal in synchronized top tapping and finally get to bed at a reasonable hour and with a reasonable adrenaline level.

Seriously, this has been the best Olympics I can ever recall, but I am SO TIRED.

School starts tomorrow and I'm in a bit of denial about it. The good news is that I'm past the tenure decision, so this year is starting with a much different stress level. (And that's very nice!) And in the odd world that is academia, although the tenure decisions were made last spring, we are just now starting to celebrate them on campus with lots of receptions and public recognition. I like it.

And the whole atmosphere in my department is just so much better than it was last year, and I'm not the only one who feels that way. We're all smiling and happy and life is just so much better now than it was.

Now if I can just get to sleep, I'd be much happier and able to concentrate than I am right now.