You might gather two things from the title of this post--that I've been much engaged of late with teaching, and that the experience has been less-than-pleasant. The first assumption would be correct; the second, well, you'll see. . .
I am wrapping up the second major work on the syllabus, after the introductory foray into poetry that always begins my lit classes. I love teaching poetry, but it has to be done early in the semester to allow time for the poetry paper-and-presentation combo that I generally assign. They can't work on those without some basic understanding of form, meter, and some basic steps of interpretation. Having wrapped up "Goblin Market" last week, we have been covering William Morris's utopia News from Nowhere because I just couldn't talk about feminism in a serious, unbiased way with Herland. I had a difficult time convincing students that the "it takes a village" method of parenting promoted in Gilman's book had any benefits. "No really!" I said, "Doesn't it make sense that the most competent women should be raising the children?" "Well yes," I said, "It would depend on your criteria for judging competency." And "Yes," I said, "that would be a rather difficult line to draw." And, "Oh by the way," I said, "Gilman was a big proponent of Eugenics." "Why, yes, the concepts are very complimentary, aren't they?" Besides, I'm a poster child for motherhood right about now. Talking about it theoretically gets to feeling a little, um, disingenuous. So I decided to tackle socialism instead. Well, not really.
Because, you see, Morris was a socialist politically, but his utopia basically does away with any form of economics. There is no "economy," just a willingness to share--a communalism (I don't want to say "commune" or "communism") that resembles a large-scale monastic existence (only the economics of it--for want of a better word) more than any other model. Marxists, socialists--they don't really want to see an end to economics. Money stays, private property goes. It may not have started that way--just ask Marx and Lenin. . .
What's interesting about this utopia are Morris's aesthetic ideas, including ideas about the aesthetic value of work. Well, this can be hard to impress upon a group of students whose self-stated purpose in life is to compete and to work to acquire "things." If this sounds harsh, I wish you could see the class discussion boards. I had someone grudgingly acknowledge that there are people who work because they enjoy their jobs, but most can't see why anyone in Morris's utopia would be inclined to work. They suggest instead that the mindset would, in reality, be more like those who "mooch" (my word--their sentiment) off of Welfare. Ooof. Well, considering the financial backgrounds of a lot of these students, I'm not all that surprised.
What is surprising to me is the way they harp on reality. I guess Morris's utopia is realistic enough and yet idealistic enough that the main question in their heads seems to be, "Could this really work?" With the implied answer being, "No, because people are. . ." (nasty, cruel, lazy, competitive--enter negative adjective of choice.) And many of these students are self-described Christians. I must say that it pains me to see students so young who are so cynical. I consider myself a pretty cynical person, but I realize more and more that I have a kind of idealism that runs pretty deep. At any rate, I do believe that there should be more to choosing a profession than the money one will make and the things that one will acquire by working in that particular job! And I do believe that there is a dignity in just knowing that one has a job and that there is a kind of despair that goes along with not believing that a job will ever come along--and that the despair leads people (not all, but some) to rely on social services. Why bother, when the world seems against us? Where I differ from many others who profess similar philosophies is in the solution--namely, that I don't claim to have one. I believe that the individual is the key--not the mass, and so to help the general, we must look for the one person who needs encouragement, then another, then another. My job here is just to get them to look beyond their social situations and their conceptions of reality and say, "Well, yes. . . I guess it would be better if people could do what work appealed to them and still be just as comfortable as the next person." Perhaps the next question might be, "Well, why isn't it like that, anyway?" At any rate, I actually mentioned the term "dignity of work" on the discussion boards, and pointed out that many people work who have no hope of ever gaining a Lexus, or even owning their own home--which so many people take for granted. And I asked why that might be, when many of the people in question do not enjoy what they do.
I guess this brings me to what a wonderful thing discussion boards can be if used correctly. Not that I'm a master by any means. I have modified how I moderate and assign the discussion boards from the beginning of the semester, and I have tried this in semesters past. Basically, I have to have them write questions about certain topics on certain days, and on alternate days, they answer others' questions. Then, depending on where their questions lead, I either use them as discussion-starters in class, or start my own discussion board and have them answer my thematic questions. The result is that they actually say more about the literature--when properly prompted, and when they don't get stuck on "how people really are" or "how the society works"! At any rate, the discussion can evolve much more naturally, and I like having the students set the agenda, since I'm not really trying to promote one (contrary to their expectations--when they saw the term "socialism," they expected the worst from me, I'm sure!!). I'm not a socialist, but at this point, you might have a hard time convincing them of that!
While this is a frustrating experience in some ways, it is also inspiring in a way. Here, I actually do have an opportunity to get them to imagine the world in a different way--which is, indeed, the point of a utopia, and the value of fantasy. C. S. Lewis once wrote that one who reads fantasy “does not despise real woods because he has read of enchanted woods: the reading makes all real woods a little enchanted." Tolkien takes this a quite a bit further in his (much more scholarly) "On Fairy Stories," which promises to provide for a lot of good discussion in the coming week(s), by theorizing the nature of the enchantment (in a Christian context, which might inform some of the discussion board topics, but will probably not enter into class discussion).
As we wind down William Morris, who it seems we have barely started, and prepare to meet Tolkien, which meeting I look forward to eagerly, we have ongoing contemplation of poetry on an individual level as they prepare to write their poetry explications (with a fantasy twist). Today I met with a student who was so petrified of poetry that she was literally only reading words on paper, and wasn't really sure how they strung together to make meaning. This sounds harsh, but it is accurate. I have never seen such anxiety with regard to literature before. She was literally shaking as she answered my "What is this poem about? What's going on in this poem?" with a timid, "Well, it could be about . . . death?" I believe that answer seemed as likely as one of the other "Themes of Literature" she undoubtedly learned about in high school. But the beauty of assigning an explication paper is that it really allows the student a true opportunity to discover the meaning of the poem for him or herself--in this case, guided by me, but it was a good teaching opportunity. I believe I did "lead her to literature," and she does indeed understand this poem--and perhaps, by extension, all poems--better.
In short, I really love this syllabus. I hope that wherever I go next, I am able to continue my thematic course on fantasy. Maybe one day I will even be able to edit an anthology of British fantasy literature that can be used for such a course--you know, the Norton Anthology of British Fantasy or some such thing. . .
It's the idealist in me, perhaps (you know, the one I keep hidden like Boober fraggle and Sidebottom), but I think there might be some value in this reading and teaching literature thing after all. At any rate, this semester is giving me that feeling.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Thinking About "Sexy," Breastfeeding (again), Purgatory, and A Strange Immortality
As I get less and less time for extended posts, I will likely have more and more of these "in brief" thoughts. I hope it doesn't get too monotonous! But there are a few things bopping around my head that I need to get onto the blog before they go away and before I can stop thinking about them and finish preparing for class!!
1) Is "sexy" a performance? - Jen of Et Tu, Jen? has picked up my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post in order to completely turn it around. How cool is that? She asks whether "sexiness" is a valuable goal in itself, and I know where she's coming from in a way, though I see it differently. I've never really aspired to look sexy or act sexy--I guess I was trying to be intelligent and look attractive instead. An interesting discussion has ensued, mostly about the appropriateness of trying to be sexy, especially in a Catholic context, and in the context of a Catholic sacramental marriage. What strikes me is that sexiness is being represented almost exclusively as a look or an act that one puts on for other people or, in the case of "good, moral" sexiness (which is up for grabs on the other discussion), for one other person. It is never a feeling that comes from within, which is really what I was trying to evoke in my post. I have suggested "sensual"as an alternative to "sexy," both because it's not quite as loaded and because it seems to suggest a feeling--something internal--rather than a look or an action--something external. What I originally said was, "breastfeeding moms can still have sexy thoughts about their breasts." I'm not really talking about society's concept of what is sexy, but responding to the original comment that breastfeeding moms "cheapen what [their] breasts are" by breastfeeding in public, perhaps indiscreetly, or whatever. But what are your breasts anyway, when they're not a food source? Something to flaunt or somethin you appreciate the way you appreciate any part of your body that makes you feel sensual or beautiful? Anyway, they're not buying it on Jen's blog. Oh well!
2) Facebook's no breastfeeding policy - I came across something recently (I think through sitemeter) about Facebook shutting down the site of a breastfeeding mom for posting a picture of herself nursing her little one. Now hopefully most if not all of us can agree that that's not obscene, and not what they had in mind with their "no nudity" policy. However, I'm going to play devil's advocate and say that it might become more difficult for them to police the content of pages if they start differentiating the "type" or "intent" of pictures of bare anatomical features. How do we separate the nude baby in the bath family page from the child porn site? Yes, it should be clear, but it does complicate matters if we start having to address it. Also during a sitemeter browse, I noticed that someone in France did, indeed, find my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post while searching for erotic lactation porn. Eeeeeeeew! So would the same mother who is outraged because her post was taken down feel all warm & fuzzy if some pervert was masturbating to a picture of her breastfeeding? I don't think I would, but then, I'm not going to post ANY pictures of myself or my children, so I guess it's more a matter of privacy than aesthetics. Still, tough call for Facebook. Or maybe not.
3) Purgatory - Entropy has a thought-provoking post about Purgatory, a favorite Catholic concept of mine, and how her daughter is struggling with the concept. I've already written a fair amount about it over there, so I'll cheat & repost my comment in the interest of time:
The concept of Purgatory is one I always found rather attractive--that is, after I passed my "just say no to all things Catholic" phase. Dante helped my understanding of it, predictably perhaps. (I took a course on Dante very shortly after getting my undergrad degree, and it was instrumental in my eventual conversion.) One vivid scene in Purgatorio involves one of the souls remembering his death and an angel and devil fighting over his soul. It seems his was a definite "death bed repentance" in the form of a single tear, and the devil was saying, basically, "oh, come on--that's not really genuine!" The argument worked with someone in the Inferno, but evidently this conversion of heart was real. So while he did indeed repent, there was no chance for it to be borne out in life, and even had he been able to "repay the $10," he didn't have the chance to try. So off he goes to Purgatory. I find it comforting because it means that we don't have to be impeccable, even after a conversion of heart, after repentance and penance (of course, Purgatory is also an extended opportunity for penance, and so is related to the Sacrament of Reconciliation). It takes into account our real, human failings in the face of God's mercy & forgiveness--and perfection.
And now I get hokey... It always bothered me at the end of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi that Darth Vadar could participate in and commit the number and type of sheer evil acts that he did during his life, and then, because Luke says, "No, you're really good," voila! he's good! And he joins the "good Jedi": Yoda and Obi Wan. It simply didn't seem fair. I mean, what about all the bad stuff? In Protestant theology, this wouldn't be a problem. He said sorry (sort of), was forgiven, end of story. But to imagine that the soul (yes, I'm still talking about Darth Vadar) doesn't carry a mark of all that evil is naive at best. Certainly, he has not reached the point where he should be able to participate in the joys of... well... company with the good Jedis (and here the analogy breaks down a bit). Anyway, I always thought that it was patently unfair that Darth should be judged as their equals without any reparation. I would have had him in Purgatory for a long, long time!!
Well, at the very least, I hope you find that amusing! ;)
And I wish you the best in dealing with this issue with your daughter!! My son has pretty much accepted everything seamlessly. I don't know how much he had learned at this point about Purgatory, but at any rate, I'm keeping Star Wars handy! ;)
-and-
I wonder, too, looking at Ma Beck's comment again, if certain types of sins retain a kind of hold on us--that on a level, even if we're forgiven and have really, truly repented, we are inclined (whether from shame or whatever) to replay them in our minds, to dwell on them, to keep them with us. I know I've done this. Anyway, this kind of lingering thought about sin is not appropriate for the joys of heaven, and must be burned away...
I rather like the idea of Purgatory, as you can tell, though it is tempting to feel like it takes the pressure off of me!
4) Immortality? - My daughter, who likes to peruse the VHS/DVD collection for things that have interesting pictures on the cases, has been interested in Toy Story 1 & 2 lately, which prompted some brief musings on what it means for one's immortality to depend on the existence--indeed, the youth and whim--of someone else!! This is a motif that repeats itself throughout children's books and media: consider The Velveteen Rabbit, "Puff the Magic Dragon," Jim Henson's The Christmas Toy, and then Toy Story. And children are shown to be fairly fickle in several of these examples. The Velveteen Rabbit is a bit different, since it's not immortality, but rather mortality--a "real" existence--that he achieves through being loved. Still, the dependency on the love of another--selfish love, really--and the necessity for the individual to build his/her existence around that other with no guarantee of reciprocal love--it's rather dark and existential on a level. As indeed, children's literature can often be. The odd thing is that stories that promote love and self-sacrifice are seen as positive, even mirroring Christian virtues. But I don't see that as the whole story. Unless the toy represents the perpetual "dark night of the soul," but I just don't think the creators were being that deep.
So really, would Buzz Lightyear have been better off or worse thinking that he was, indeed, The Real Buzz Lightyear? At least he would have entertained the notion that his life had its own purpose. On the other hand, he would not have been self-aware. These tease the edges of Christian notions, but fall short in disturbing ways. Consider, for example, the notion that we are called to do God's will and that when we imagine ourselves acting independently from God, Church teaching tells us that we are not seeing the whole picture and not living to the fullest extent possible. The Buzz analogy has a similar ring about it, except that the alternatives are utter dependency and self-sacrifice for uncertain love--or delusion. The Christian vision tells us what we seek to gain or lose from including God in our lives--or not.
Okay, clearly I need to turn off the TV. ;) And get some class prep done. William Morris, here I come!
1) Is "sexy" a performance? - Jen of Et Tu, Jen? has picked up my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post in order to completely turn it around. How cool is that? She asks whether "sexiness" is a valuable goal in itself, and I know where she's coming from in a way, though I see it differently. I've never really aspired to look sexy or act sexy--I guess I was trying to be intelligent and look attractive instead. An interesting discussion has ensued, mostly about the appropriateness of trying to be sexy, especially in a Catholic context, and in the context of a Catholic sacramental marriage. What strikes me is that sexiness is being represented almost exclusively as a look or an act that one puts on for other people or, in the case of "good, moral" sexiness (which is up for grabs on the other discussion), for one other person. It is never a feeling that comes from within, which is really what I was trying to evoke in my post. I have suggested "sensual"as an alternative to "sexy," both because it's not quite as loaded and because it seems to suggest a feeling--something internal--rather than a look or an action--something external. What I originally said was, "breastfeeding moms can still have sexy thoughts about their breasts." I'm not really talking about society's concept of what is sexy, but responding to the original comment that breastfeeding moms "cheapen what [their] breasts are" by breastfeeding in public, perhaps indiscreetly, or whatever. But what are your breasts anyway, when they're not a food source? Something to flaunt or somethin you appreciate the way you appreciate any part of your body that makes you feel sensual or beautiful? Anyway, they're not buying it on Jen's blog. Oh well!
2) Facebook's no breastfeeding policy - I came across something recently (I think through sitemeter) about Facebook shutting down the site of a breastfeeding mom for posting a picture of herself nursing her little one. Now hopefully most if not all of us can agree that that's not obscene, and not what they had in mind with their "no nudity" policy. However, I'm going to play devil's advocate and say that it might become more difficult for them to police the content of pages if they start differentiating the "type" or "intent" of pictures of bare anatomical features. How do we separate the nude baby in the bath family page from the child porn site? Yes, it should be clear, but it does complicate matters if we start having to address it. Also during a sitemeter browse, I noticed that someone in France did, indeed, find my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post while searching for erotic lactation porn. Eeeeeeeew! So would the same mother who is outraged because her post was taken down feel all warm & fuzzy if some pervert was masturbating to a picture of her breastfeeding? I don't think I would, but then, I'm not going to post ANY pictures of myself or my children, so I guess it's more a matter of privacy than aesthetics. Still, tough call for Facebook. Or maybe not.
3) Purgatory - Entropy has a thought-provoking post about Purgatory, a favorite Catholic concept of mine, and how her daughter is struggling with the concept. I've already written a fair amount about it over there, so I'll cheat & repost my comment in the interest of time:
The concept of Purgatory is one I always found rather attractive--that is, after I passed my "just say no to all things Catholic" phase. Dante helped my understanding of it, predictably perhaps. (I took a course on Dante very shortly after getting my undergrad degree, and it was instrumental in my eventual conversion.) One vivid scene in Purgatorio involves one of the souls remembering his death and an angel and devil fighting over his soul. It seems his was a definite "death bed repentance" in the form of a single tear, and the devil was saying, basically, "oh, come on--that's not really genuine!" The argument worked with someone in the Inferno, but evidently this conversion of heart was real. So while he did indeed repent, there was no chance for it to be borne out in life, and even had he been able to "repay the $10," he didn't have the chance to try. So off he goes to Purgatory. I find it comforting because it means that we don't have to be impeccable, even after a conversion of heart, after repentance and penance (of course, Purgatory is also an extended opportunity for penance, and so is related to the Sacrament of Reconciliation). It takes into account our real, human failings in the face of God's mercy & forgiveness--and perfection.
And now I get hokey... It always bothered me at the end of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi that Darth Vadar could participate in and commit the number and type of sheer evil acts that he did during his life, and then, because Luke says, "No, you're really good," voila! he's good! And he joins the "good Jedi": Yoda and Obi Wan. It simply didn't seem fair. I mean, what about all the bad stuff? In Protestant theology, this wouldn't be a problem. He said sorry (sort of), was forgiven, end of story. But to imagine that the soul (yes, I'm still talking about Darth Vadar) doesn't carry a mark of all that evil is naive at best. Certainly, he has not reached the point where he should be able to participate in the joys of... well... company with the good Jedis (and here the analogy breaks down a bit). Anyway, I always thought that it was patently unfair that Darth should be judged as their equals without any reparation. I would have had him in Purgatory for a long, long time!!
Well, at the very least, I hope you find that amusing! ;)
And I wish you the best in dealing with this issue with your daughter!! My son has pretty much accepted everything seamlessly. I don't know how much he had learned at this point about Purgatory, but at any rate, I'm keeping Star Wars handy! ;)
-and-
I wonder, too, looking at Ma Beck's comment again, if certain types of sins retain a kind of hold on us--that on a level, even if we're forgiven and have really, truly repented, we are inclined (whether from shame or whatever) to replay them in our minds, to dwell on them, to keep them with us. I know I've done this. Anyway, this kind of lingering thought about sin is not appropriate for the joys of heaven, and must be burned away...
I rather like the idea of Purgatory, as you can tell, though it is tempting to feel like it takes the pressure off of me!
4) Immortality? - My daughter, who likes to peruse the VHS/DVD collection for things that have interesting pictures on the cases, has been interested in Toy Story 1 & 2 lately, which prompted some brief musings on what it means for one's immortality to depend on the existence--indeed, the youth and whim--of someone else!! This is a motif that repeats itself throughout children's books and media: consider The Velveteen Rabbit, "Puff the Magic Dragon," Jim Henson's The Christmas Toy, and then Toy Story. And children are shown to be fairly fickle in several of these examples. The Velveteen Rabbit is a bit different, since it's not immortality, but rather mortality--a "real" existence--that he achieves through being loved. Still, the dependency on the love of another--selfish love, really--and the necessity for the individual to build his/her existence around that other with no guarantee of reciprocal love--it's rather dark and existential on a level. As indeed, children's literature can often be. The odd thing is that stories that promote love and self-sacrifice are seen as positive, even mirroring Christian virtues. But I don't see that as the whole story. Unless the toy represents the perpetual "dark night of the soul," but I just don't think the creators were being that deep.
So really, would Buzz Lightyear have been better off or worse thinking that he was, indeed, The Real Buzz Lightyear? At least he would have entertained the notion that his life had its own purpose. On the other hand, he would not have been self-aware. These tease the edges of Christian notions, but fall short in disturbing ways. Consider, for example, the notion that we are called to do God's will and that when we imagine ourselves acting independently from God, Church teaching tells us that we are not seeing the whole picture and not living to the fullest extent possible. The Buzz analogy has a similar ring about it, except that the alternatives are utter dependency and self-sacrifice for uncertain love--or delusion. The Christian vision tells us what we seek to gain or lose from including God in our lives--or not.
Okay, clearly I need to turn off the TV. ;) And get some class prep done. William Morris, here I come!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Things I've Been Thinking About (September Edition)
I realize my posts have been rather slim lately. That's because I've primarily been focused on the dissertation (I'm almost finished the D. H. Lawrence chapter, which will leave only 2 chapters to go--yay!!), the class I'm teaching (we have been discussing Rossetti's "Goblin Market," which is a fun one--they truly enjoy it, which is rare), anything I might want to finish sewing before the new baby comes, and generally staying on top of cooking and cleaning (things I rarely do, but I've been cooking in a renewed effort to economize and by "cleaning" I mean keeping up with tidiness on a day-to-day basis--or almost). You might call it extended nesting. I've been very domestic. :P I'm also a little concerned about the fact that my son wants a Wii for Christmas and there's very little chance that "Santa" will be able to find one. :( At least by itself rather than in a "bundle" for $540. (Lest you think I routinely buy my son $250 Christmas presents, I don't. It would be a "family" present--for ALL of us!--and never the first year out! Generally I wait for prices to go down on game systems, so maybe in 2009. . .)
So what other lofty thoughts have been going through this mind? Well, I'll tell you. . .
1) Harry Potter -- I recently read The Half-Blood Prince when my son checked it out from the school library. I feel slightly guilty about that. I have an ongoing problem with Rowling, and since I have not really seen this one articulated, I will mention it in brief. Basically, it's the goodness or evilness (?) of a given character, and how this personality trait is determined. While Rowling ostensibly resists determinism by giving lip service to how one character could have easily substituted for Harry as the "chosen one," it's not believable. Characters do not really seem to be counted good or evil according to their actions. Whether Harry does good or evil (let's call it "bad," since he is never quite allowed to do evil, just cheating, dark arts spells and the like, which nevertheless go beyond the antics of Fred & George), he is untouchably good. Whether Snape does good or evil, Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, yet the reader is constantly encouraged to judge him as evil (a fact that has bugged me since book 2--I know, I'll read the last book, but the inconsistency is the point). No matter what a Malfoy might do, he's evil (and a little snot, to boot). And yet we are kind of expected to see people as defined by their actions--well, unless you count the bad things that James and Sirius did. Hmmm. . . Well, this Good or Evil predestination or determinism rather comes to a head in Voldemort, who not only does bad things, he is genetically determined to be evil, being last of Slytherin's line and the product of serious inbreeding, a half-blood at that (and resents it) and is raised in an orphanage so he doesn't know nurturing (which means his Slytherin traits really are inbred and not the product of upbringing). Basically, there was never an opportunity for Tom Riddle to say, "You know, I don't think I'll be evil today." And you know what? I find that disturbing.
2) My family is outgrowing our vehicle and our bed. How to fit 2 carseats and a 10-year old in the backseat of a Hyundai Tuscon? Not a clue. And what exactly will we do when a newborn wants to nurse in bed with Momma while a toddler wants to climb in bed for an hour or so? (The bed is a queen and Momma and Daddy aren't really small people.) No, the correct answer isn't turn the toddler out of bed. My husband has speculated that he will be sleeping on the futon in the living room. I don't see that happening. After all, he & I squeezed in a twin with our son when he was a month or so old (long story)! We were arguably a lot smaller then--I know I was, at least!! The toddler bed is making things a lot better, but she still has nights when she isn't comfortable for one reason or another--sometimes gas, sometimes hunger, sometimes overtired or not enough exercise. Who knows? She might go back in her bed more often if I had the inclination to lug 30 lbs. of sleeping toddler across the room, but really, the belly's getting to be enough to carry around! I did read an interesting Mothering article about having a toddler sleep with you--you can find it here. I don't personally like to force young children to sleep in their own beds--or their own rooms. As I see it, they still need us for a while. And if the Von Trapp children hadn't run into Maria's room when they were scared of the storm, we wouldn't have "A Few of Our Favorite Things"!
3) Braxton-Hicks. Lots of them. I don't remember them making it hard to walk. Is this O.K. at this stage?? I realize they get more noticeable each pregnancy, but geez!!
4) Applying for jobs. One in particular. At a Catholic college in Indiana in the middle of nowhere (as far as I can tell). High course load, but it sounds pretty flexible. I could probably end up teaching all over the board--not getting pigeonholed and not teaching theory instead of lit. I can teach theory, but I don't want it to be the focus of my teaching, which means I should go somewhere where I won't have to teach grad students--not really something I feel the need to do anyway. I'm not sure I see the appeal. I mean, really--I wouldn't want to teach someone like me!! ;) But I'm not going to worry about job apps much. I'd love to have a job next year, but I need to do what I'm doing right now without any more distraction than absolutely necessary, and I won't be able to go to major national conference meat market this year anyway (no great loss to my mind).
5) Something morbid (and potentially judgmental) about motherhood in Texas, but I don't really want to write about it or speculate on it. I did once comment to someone--many years ago--that crimes seemed weirder in Texas, or more extreme, or something, and the sheer list of occurrences cited here seems to substantiate that. But the scope of crimes has gotten so weird anyway that I don't know if I would have made that observation today.
6) I love Crocs!!!-- And I'm not terribly worried about them making news recently. We have reached a point recently where each member of the family has a pair of genuine Crocs (imitations can't come close!) and I boast 3 pair. I barely wear anything else. Especially pregnant, and especially since they have relatively "feminine" styles--I don't have the "garden variety" clog (ha ha). But consider this:
7) Frequently, I'm thinking about sleep or caffeine. . . Or the fact that my baby will be the first of 3 to be born caffeine-addicted (only by comparison to the other 2). This probably explains why I seem to be unable to come up with anything else I've been thinking about. Bed time!! But anyway, apart from the tired, I've been feeling really well, and I've been better able to keep up with everything that's going on lately than during the entire pregnancy. I'm feeling a bit unwieldy (I'm carrying this baby a bit oddly), but feeling good about where I am right now!
So what other lofty thoughts have been going through this mind? Well, I'll tell you. . .
1) Harry Potter -- I recently read The Half-Blood Prince when my son checked it out from the school library. I feel slightly guilty about that. I have an ongoing problem with Rowling, and since I have not really seen this one articulated, I will mention it in brief. Basically, it's the goodness or evilness (?) of a given character, and how this personality trait is determined. While Rowling ostensibly resists determinism by giving lip service to how one character could have easily substituted for Harry as the "chosen one," it's not believable. Characters do not really seem to be counted good or evil according to their actions. Whether Harry does good or evil (let's call it "bad," since he is never quite allowed to do evil, just cheating, dark arts spells and the like, which nevertheless go beyond the antics of Fred & George), he is untouchably good. Whether Snape does good or evil, Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, yet the reader is constantly encouraged to judge him as evil (a fact that has bugged me since book 2--I know, I'll read the last book, but the inconsistency is the point). No matter what a Malfoy might do, he's evil (and a little snot, to boot). And yet we are kind of expected to see people as defined by their actions--well, unless you count the bad things that James and Sirius did. Hmmm. . . Well, this Good or Evil predestination or determinism rather comes to a head in Voldemort, who not only does bad things, he is genetically determined to be evil, being last of Slytherin's line and the product of serious inbreeding, a half-blood at that (and resents it) and is raised in an orphanage so he doesn't know nurturing (which means his Slytherin traits really are inbred and not the product of upbringing). Basically, there was never an opportunity for Tom Riddle to say, "You know, I don't think I'll be evil today." And you know what? I find that disturbing.
2) My family is outgrowing our vehicle and our bed. How to fit 2 carseats and a 10-year old in the backseat of a Hyundai Tuscon? Not a clue. And what exactly will we do when a newborn wants to nurse in bed with Momma while a toddler wants to climb in bed for an hour or so? (The bed is a queen and Momma and Daddy aren't really small people.) No, the correct answer isn't turn the toddler out of bed. My husband has speculated that he will be sleeping on the futon in the living room. I don't see that happening. After all, he & I squeezed in a twin with our son when he was a month or so old (long story)! We were arguably a lot smaller then--I know I was, at least!! The toddler bed is making things a lot better, but she still has nights when she isn't comfortable for one reason or another--sometimes gas, sometimes hunger, sometimes overtired or not enough exercise. Who knows? She might go back in her bed more often if I had the inclination to lug 30 lbs. of sleeping toddler across the room, but really, the belly's getting to be enough to carry around! I did read an interesting Mothering article about having a toddler sleep with you--you can find it here. I don't personally like to force young children to sleep in their own beds--or their own rooms. As I see it, they still need us for a while. And if the Von Trapp children hadn't run into Maria's room when they were scared of the storm, we wouldn't have "A Few of Our Favorite Things"!
3) Braxton-Hicks. Lots of them. I don't remember them making it hard to walk. Is this O.K. at this stage?? I realize they get more noticeable each pregnancy, but geez!!
4) Applying for jobs. One in particular. At a Catholic college in Indiana in the middle of nowhere (as far as I can tell). High course load, but it sounds pretty flexible. I could probably end up teaching all over the board--not getting pigeonholed and not teaching theory instead of lit. I can teach theory, but I don't want it to be the focus of my teaching, which means I should go somewhere where I won't have to teach grad students--not really something I feel the need to do anyway. I'm not sure I see the appeal. I mean, really--I wouldn't want to teach someone like me!! ;) But I'm not going to worry about job apps much. I'd love to have a job next year, but I need to do what I'm doing right now without any more distraction than absolutely necessary, and I won't be able to go to major national conference meat market this year anyway (no great loss to my mind).
5) Something morbid (and potentially judgmental) about motherhood in Texas, but I don't really want to write about it or speculate on it. I did once comment to someone--many years ago--that crimes seemed weirder in Texas, or more extreme, or something, and the sheer list of occurrences cited here seems to substantiate that. But the scope of crimes has gotten so weird anyway that I don't know if I would have made that observation today.
6) I love Crocs!!!-- And I'm not terribly worried about them making news recently. We have reached a point recently where each member of the family has a pair of genuine Crocs (imitations can't come close!) and I boast 3 pair. I barely wear anything else. Especially pregnant, and especially since they have relatively "feminine" styles--I don't have the "garden variety" clog (ha ha). But consider this:
According to reports appearing across the United States and as far away as Singapore and Japan, entrapments occur because of two of the biggest selling points of shoes like Crocs: their flexibility and grip. Some report the shoes get caught in the "teeth" at the bottom or top of the escalator, or in the crack between the steps and the side of the escalator.
The reports of serious injuries have all involved young children. Crocs are commonly worn by children as young as 2.
Yup, my baby has a cute little pair of Mary Jane Crocs. But I ask you--which is more unnatural? Having a baby (or even a young child) walk on an escalator (people have gotten stuck in those things before Crocs!), or having her feet wrapped in flexible material that molds to her feet and doesn't restrict her movement? She has yet to have a pair of "traditional" shoes. Because you know what? Bare foot is natural, and soft shoes are the next best thing!!7) Frequently, I'm thinking about sleep or caffeine. . . Or the fact that my baby will be the first of 3 to be born caffeine-addicted (only by comparison to the other 2). This probably explains why I seem to be unable to come up with anything else I've been thinking about. Bed time!! But anyway, apart from the tired, I've been feeling really well, and I've been better able to keep up with everything that's going on lately than during the entire pregnancy. I'm feeling a bit unwieldy (I'm carrying this baby a bit oddly), but feeling good about where I am right now!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
It's not Just for Breastfeeding Mothers Any More!!
But this article about Southwest Airlines rather explains the loophole that allows airlines to get away with telling breastfeeding mothers to do. . . well. . . whatever it is that the flight attendants tell them to do on a given flight--cover up, stop feeding, whatever. It seems that, while Southwest claims not to have a dress code, they also reserve the right to censor passengers' outfits for various reasons, with the result that two women have brought complaints against Southwest for addressing their wardrobe choices:
What strikes me first is the rationale behind the censure. One was "dressed too provocatively." There clearly isn't an objective standard for this. I would like to know if the airline employees imposing these guidelines were male or female, fundamentalist, or personally turned on by the passengers' attire. (This reminds me of discussions I've seen on other blogs about whether a sexily dressed woman is responsible for others' "occasions of sin"!) But this is the passage that seemed relevant to breastfeeding in the air:
Setara Qassim said a flight attendant confronted her during the trip from Tucson, Arizona, to Burbank, California, and asked whether she had a sweater to go over her green halter-style dress.
Qassim, 21, told KNBC-TV in Los Angeles she was forced to wrap a blanket around herself for the rest of the flight. She complained that if Southwest wants passengers to dress a certain way, it should publish a dress code.
Last week, 23-year-old Kayla Ebbert said a Southwest employee pulled her aside as she was preparing to board a plane departing San Diego for Tucson in July and told her she was dressed too provocatively to fly.
Ebbert, who took her case to NBC's "Today Show," said she was allowed on the plane after adjusting her sweater and short skirt. She said she was humiliated and felt the stares of other passengers who had overheard the verbal dressing-down.
Now, do you think these women were wearing anything that you haven't seen in Church? Okay, unfair question! ;)What strikes me first is the rationale behind the censure. One was "dressed too provocatively." There clearly isn't an objective standard for this. I would like to know if the airline employees imposing these guidelines were male or female, fundamentalist, or personally turned on by the passengers' attire. (This reminds me of discussions I've seen on other blogs about whether a sexily dressed woman is responsible for others' "occasions of sin"!) But this is the passage that seemed relevant to breastfeeding in the air:
American Airlines claims the right to refuse to carry passengers for a variety of reasons, including being drunk, barefoot, having an offensive odor or being "clothed in a manner that would cause discomfort or offense to other passengers."
That's pretty broad. The example given is offensive graphics on a t-shirt, but it's not tough to see how breastfeeding falls under this jurisdiction--even if the mother is discreetly covered. (But then, some passengers (and flight attendants) find the presence of children offensive enough anyway. . .) Of course, breastfeeding is an act, not a manner of dress, but certainly if the breast were all or partially exposed, one could anticipate this regulation being invoked. I have breastfed without incident on an airplane, but it was years ago (a bit over 10 years ago, to be precise). It was probably Southwest. But then, I don't like sitting by other people anyway, so there was likely no one there but my husband, and he wouldn't have complained!Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Although I Probably Shouldn't Criticize the Ivory Tower. . .
. . .I decided to write this post anyway. Because, well, I'm kind of sick of the same old assumptions--namely, that everyone in academe (indeed! every intelligent person!) feels the same way about political and social issues. And darn it, I've already shown how judgmental I am by saying that parents should be able to have their children around with them if their job is flexible enough to allow it, and that I think that breastfeeding is the preferable choice for infants and mothers. And since everyone already knows what kind of fascist I am--I even think I'm better than the people in front of me in the grocery store when they're putting six-packs of store-brand sodas, no-name frozen dinners or tubs of hydrogenated lard on the conveyor while I painstakingly pore over ingredients lists (Intense Chocolate Ice Cream notwithstanding)--I'll just go ahead and say my peace and invite the increased scorn of the non-judgmental types out there.
I think it all started (the post, that is), when I was working in the computer lab in my department before my class and looked up to see posted a list of proposed bumper sticker slogans--most of them mocking the intelligence of the president with such mature witticisms as "Bad President! No banana!" Not able to help myself, I wrote on the page (yes, it was me), "Show me a viable candidate, and I'll show you another country." My utter disgust with the two-party system is increasing daily as I watch the candidate pool fester. Later this evening, I received an email about an upcoming lecture sponsored by our department featuring the author of a book about how wacky conservatives are anti-education for criticizing an imagined liberal "bias" in education (the quotes are in the title, implying the ridiculousness of the term) and also conflating the use of "liberal" as in "liberal politics" and "Liberal Arts," implying that the two are equal, or at least necessary compliments to one another. DISCLAIMER: So far, much of my information on this book has been gleaned from reviews, albeit favorable reviews. Doing a little further research, I was able to read the review of the book posted by none other than Amanda Marcotte on her blog, where she issues the disclaimer (of sorts) that she had, indeed, guess-hosted the blog of our illustrious guest-lecturer. Of course, those are credentials enough, no?
But in spite of any hostility you might detect, the point of this post is not to attack the politics of my peers or my department. For one thing, I generally don't assume that I know who votes for whom or with which party my colleagues cast their allegiances--that's judgmental for you! Nor do I conflate methodology with ideology--I recognize that just because someone favors marxist criticism, that person does not necessarily subscribe to Marxism, just as having worked with ecocriticsm doesn't mean I contribute to GreenPeace, and the fact that I've written about motherhood doesn't make me a mother. . . Oh, wait. . . That is, the fact that I've written about transvestism doesn't make me a. . . well. . . (just kidding!) On the other hand, I don't tend to use methodologies that represent ideologies to which I object on moral grounds. Sometimes I incorporate them in order to question them, but I digress. . .
At this moment of angst, realizing that I, like all in academia, have been pre-judged (oh wait, I'm the judgmental one!) as liberal (in the non-classical sense)--not by wacky conservatives (no offense), but by fellow-academics, I was pleased to see that someone much more tenured than I (and in my own discipline, too!) has addressed this issue. Today on a site called Minding the Campus, Mark Bauerlein, Professor of English at Emory and former Director of Research and Analysis for the NEA, published an article titled, "I'm O.K., You're Not O.K." He responds in part to an essay in this month's Academe written by one Julie Kilmer and titled, "Reclaim Your Rights as a Liberal Educator." Kilmer's article, according to Bauerlein, seeks to combat the power plays by conservative student groups such as Students for Academic Freedom (sounds menacing, no?) from the weak and vulnerable position of tenured faculty (pause for audible snicker). Here is one notable passage:
With such vast disparities between the threat professors envision and the actual security they enjoy, one would think that more people would recognize the problem of ideological bias on campus. But they don't, and the reason lies in a campus advent that has nothing to do with psychology. Instead, it's a sweeping sleight-of-hand that liberal professors have executed in their discipline. We see it operating in this very essay in Academe, and in the sentences I just quoted. Did you spot it? Professor Kilmer worries that a student who "is resistant to feminist theories and ideas" may sit in her class as a "plant," someone to incriminate her and send her upstairs for punishment. That's how she interprets uncongenial students, and it's an astounding conversion. In her class, any student who contests feminist notions falls under a cloud of suspicion. The ordinary run of skeptics, obstructionists, gadflies, wiseacres, and sulkers that show up in almost every undergraduate classroom is recast as an ideological cadre. If a student in a marketing class were to dispute the morality of the whole endeavor, no doubt liberal professors would salute him as a noble dissenter. But when he criticizes feminism, he violates a trust. He doesn't just pose intellectual disagreement. He transgresses classroom protocol.
I was the kind of undergraduate Dr. Kilmer would have hated. Not only did I work in opposition to feminism--even while taking courses that focused on, say, women in art history (the professor's feminism was weak at best, but she did try)--I even went so far as to point out the incompetence and blatant racism of an African-American professor, and won my appeal to retroactively drop the class. Don't ask me why I'm writing a dissertation. Just sick, I guess. Because here, in the same article, is reference to one of the obstacles I fear on the job market:
An ideology has become a measure of responsibility. A partisan belief is professional etiquette. A controversial outlook is an academic norm. Political bias suffuses the principles of scattered disciplines. Advocacy stands as normal and proper pedagogy. That's the sleight-of-hand, and it activates in far too many decisions in curriculum, grading, hiring, and promotion. I remember a committee meeting to discuss hiring a 19th-century literature specialist when one person announced, "We can only consider people who do race." For her, "doing race" wasn't a political or ideological preference. It was a disciplinary prerequisite.
I don't "do race." I don't "do feminism." I don't even "do Marxism." I can do Post-Colonialism, but I don't make a habit out of it. One of the authors I work on is homosexual, but I don't think it's all that important in the grand scheme of his work, and I've got a woman in my dissertation, but I didn't want her there in the first place. Face it, I'm screwed.
And here's why:
In the subsequent essay in Academe, "Impassioned Teaching," women's studies professor Pamela L. Caughie of Loyola University (Chicago) asserts, "In teaching students its [feminism's] history, its forms, and its impact, I am teaching them to think and write as feminists." So much for the vaunted critical thinking professors prize, and the injunction that they question orthodoxy and convention. Caughie aims to produce versions of herself. And it's more than an ego trip - it's a professional duty: "I feel I am doing my job well when students become practitioners of feminist analysis and committed to feminist politics" (emphasis added).
I don't want my students to think like me. Really. I like it when I can teach them to communicate to me why it is that they think the way they do and move towards convincing me. I admit that I was elated when I taught a student to be open-minded about the homosexuality in Plato's Symposium. But that was for Plato's sake, and for the student's enlightenment--that he was able to access one of the world's great philosophical tracts without letting his personal prejudices interfere, not because he would go out and vote for gay marriage.
Remember when you were told as an undergraduate (or as early as high school) that as long as you agreed with the professor, you'd pass? Don't look now--from what I'm hearing, it might be true:
We end up with indoctrination passing as proper teaching. When Kilmer states, "What happens to the feminist classroom when students challenge feminist principle?" we might respond, "An energetic discussion follows." But for Kilmer, it means disruption and intimidation. By her own admission, she can no longer distinguish honest disagreement from insubordinate conduct. That's what happens when disciplines admit ideology into their grounds. Accept the ideology and you're sure to advance. You're okay. Decline it, and you're not okay. You're not only wrong - you're illegitimate.
I would likely be less cynical had I experiences to the contrary, and to be fair, not all of my colleagues do this. But I have heard enough about the students' conservatism at the university where I teach, and witnessed enough attempts to sway the students' beliefs--including their fairly strong Christian faith (which, admittedly, could do with some challenges--but to strengthen not destroy). I realized after the summer semester that I was having a hard time teaching Gilman's Herland--the students didn't buy the feminist arguments and I couldn't either, and I didn't care. I couldn't make them see the "good side" of the utopia. They won. I'm teaching William Morris's News from Nowhere as my utopia this semester. I wonder, will socialism fare any better? I look at it this way, it's pastoral. Next time I'll just "do" dystopia.
I think it all started (the post, that is), when I was working in the computer lab in my department before my class and looked up to see posted a list of proposed bumper sticker slogans--most of them mocking the intelligence of the president with such mature witticisms as "Bad President! No banana!" Not able to help myself, I wrote on the page (yes, it was me), "Show me a viable candidate, and I'll show you another country." My utter disgust with the two-party system is increasing daily as I watch the candidate pool fester. Later this evening, I received an email about an upcoming lecture sponsored by our department featuring the author of a book about how wacky conservatives are anti-education for criticizing an imagined liberal "bias" in education (the quotes are in the title, implying the ridiculousness of the term) and also conflating the use of "liberal" as in "liberal politics" and "Liberal Arts," implying that the two are equal, or at least necessary compliments to one another. DISCLAIMER: So far, much of my information on this book has been gleaned from reviews, albeit favorable reviews. Doing a little further research, I was able to read the review of the book posted by none other than Amanda Marcotte on her blog, where she issues the disclaimer (of sorts) that she had, indeed, guess-hosted the blog of our illustrious guest-lecturer. Of course, those are credentials enough, no?
But in spite of any hostility you might detect, the point of this post is not to attack the politics of my peers or my department. For one thing, I generally don't assume that I know who votes for whom or with which party my colleagues cast their allegiances--that's judgmental for you! Nor do I conflate methodology with ideology--I recognize that just because someone favors marxist criticism, that person does not necessarily subscribe to Marxism, just as having worked with ecocriticsm doesn't mean I contribute to GreenPeace, and the fact that I've written about motherhood doesn't make me a mother. . . Oh, wait. . . That is, the fact that I've written about transvestism doesn't make me a. . . well. . . (just kidding!) On the other hand, I don't tend to use methodologies that represent ideologies to which I object on moral grounds. Sometimes I incorporate them in order to question them, but I digress. . .
At this moment of angst, realizing that I, like all in academia, have been pre-judged (oh wait, I'm the judgmental one!) as liberal (in the non-classical sense)--not by wacky conservatives (no offense), but by fellow-academics, I was pleased to see that someone much more tenured than I (and in my own discipline, too!) has addressed this issue. Today on a site called Minding the Campus, Mark Bauerlein, Professor of English at Emory and former Director of Research and Analysis for the NEA, published an article titled, "I'm O.K., You're Not O.K." He responds in part to an essay in this month's Academe written by one Julie Kilmer and titled, "Reclaim Your Rights as a Liberal Educator." Kilmer's article, according to Bauerlein, seeks to combat the power plays by conservative student groups such as Students for Academic Freedom (sounds menacing, no?) from the weak and vulnerable position of tenured faculty (pause for audible snicker). Here is one notable passage:
With such vast disparities between the threat professors envision and the actual security they enjoy, one would think that more people would recognize the problem of ideological bias on campus. But they don't, and the reason lies in a campus advent that has nothing to do with psychology. Instead, it's a sweeping sleight-of-hand that liberal professors have executed in their discipline. We see it operating in this very essay in Academe, and in the sentences I just quoted. Did you spot it? Professor Kilmer worries that a student who "is resistant to feminist theories and ideas" may sit in her class as a "plant," someone to incriminate her and send her upstairs for punishment. That's how she interprets uncongenial students, and it's an astounding conversion. In her class, any student who contests feminist notions falls under a cloud of suspicion. The ordinary run of skeptics, obstructionists, gadflies, wiseacres, and sulkers that show up in almost every undergraduate classroom is recast as an ideological cadre. If a student in a marketing class were to dispute the morality of the whole endeavor, no doubt liberal professors would salute him as a noble dissenter. But when he criticizes feminism, he violates a trust. He doesn't just pose intellectual disagreement. He transgresses classroom protocol.
I was the kind of undergraduate Dr. Kilmer would have hated. Not only did I work in opposition to feminism--even while taking courses that focused on, say, women in art history (the professor's feminism was weak at best, but she did try)--I even went so far as to point out the incompetence and blatant racism of an African-American professor, and won my appeal to retroactively drop the class. Don't ask me why I'm writing a dissertation. Just sick, I guess. Because here, in the same article, is reference to one of the obstacles I fear on the job market:
An ideology has become a measure of responsibility. A partisan belief is professional etiquette. A controversial outlook is an academic norm. Political bias suffuses the principles of scattered disciplines. Advocacy stands as normal and proper pedagogy. That's the sleight-of-hand, and it activates in far too many decisions in curriculum, grading, hiring, and promotion. I remember a committee meeting to discuss hiring a 19th-century literature specialist when one person announced, "We can only consider people who do race." For her, "doing race" wasn't a political or ideological preference. It was a disciplinary prerequisite.
I don't "do race." I don't "do feminism." I don't even "do Marxism." I can do Post-Colonialism, but I don't make a habit out of it. One of the authors I work on is homosexual, but I don't think it's all that important in the grand scheme of his work, and I've got a woman in my dissertation, but I didn't want her there in the first place. Face it, I'm screwed.
And here's why:
In the subsequent essay in Academe, "Impassioned Teaching," women's studies professor Pamela L. Caughie of Loyola University (Chicago) asserts, "In teaching students its [feminism's] history, its forms, and its impact, I am teaching them to think and write as feminists." So much for the vaunted critical thinking professors prize, and the injunction that they question orthodoxy and convention. Caughie aims to produce versions of herself. And it's more than an ego trip - it's a professional duty: "I feel I am doing my job well when students become practitioners of feminist analysis and committed to feminist politics" (emphasis added).
I don't want my students to think like me. Really. I like it when I can teach them to communicate to me why it is that they think the way they do and move towards convincing me. I admit that I was elated when I taught a student to be open-minded about the homosexuality in Plato's Symposium. But that was for Plato's sake, and for the student's enlightenment--that he was able to access one of the world's great philosophical tracts without letting his personal prejudices interfere, not because he would go out and vote for gay marriage.
Remember when you were told as an undergraduate (or as early as high school) that as long as you agreed with the professor, you'd pass? Don't look now--from what I'm hearing, it might be true:
We end up with indoctrination passing as proper teaching. When Kilmer states, "What happens to the feminist classroom when students challenge feminist principle?" we might respond, "An energetic discussion follows." But for Kilmer, it means disruption and intimidation. By her own admission, she can no longer distinguish honest disagreement from insubordinate conduct. That's what happens when disciplines admit ideology into their grounds. Accept the ideology and you're sure to advance. You're okay. Decline it, and you're not okay. You're not only wrong - you're illegitimate.
I would likely be less cynical had I experiences to the contrary, and to be fair, not all of my colleagues do this. But I have heard enough about the students' conservatism at the university where I teach, and witnessed enough attempts to sway the students' beliefs--including their fairly strong Christian faith (which, admittedly, could do with some challenges--but to strengthen not destroy). I realized after the summer semester that I was having a hard time teaching Gilman's Herland--the students didn't buy the feminist arguments and I couldn't either, and I didn't care. I couldn't make them see the "good side" of the utopia. They won. I'm teaching William Morris's News from Nowhere as my utopia this semester. I wonder, will socialism fare any better? I look at it this way, it's pastoral. Next time I'll just "do" dystopia.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
More Blankies!!
These are probably the last I will be making for a while. I gave this one to a friend whose shower I attended yesterday. I was going for a vintage look with the prints--19th century or early 20th century vintage rather than the 1970s vintage!
I find that it is difficult using nontraditional colors for baby gifts, since it's difficult to gauge how nontraditional is too nontraditional! So I admit to being pleased when others also gave olive drab baby gifts!
This blanket is mine--for the new arrival. She finally has one of her own since the last one was claimed by her sister (with my full approval). I don't think I would have been brave enough to give this one as a gift--though the paisley could easily show up on a baby boutique item these days, as "baby" patterns emerge that are more traditionally associated with adults. But you see, baby boutique items given as gifts can at least be returned (well, exchanged, actually). And black binding finishes it off dramatically, but doesn't exactly scream "baby." But for those of us who get sick of pastels, I think it works well!
What's nice about these, too, is that they grow with the child: a play quilt, a baby blanket, a toddler throw. . . My toddler loves to snuggle on hers on a bean bag chair, and it goes nicely on her bed, though it's a little warm for it right now. So. . . Yay! Happy New Baby to me! ;)
I find that it is difficult using nontraditional colors for baby gifts, since it's difficult to gauge how nontraditional is too nontraditional! So I admit to being pleased when others also gave olive drab baby gifts!
This blanket is mine--for the new arrival. She finally has one of her own since the last one was claimed by her sister (with my full approval). I don't think I would have been brave enough to give this one as a gift--though the paisley could easily show up on a baby boutique item these days, as "baby" patterns emerge that are more traditionally associated with adults. But you see, baby boutique items given as gifts can at least be returned (well, exchanged, actually). And black binding finishes it off dramatically, but doesn't exactly scream "baby." But for those of us who get sick of pastels, I think it works well!
What's nice about these, too, is that they grow with the child: a play quilt, a baby blanket, a toddler throw. . . My toddler loves to snuggle on hers on a bean bag chair, and it goes nicely on her bed, though it's a little warm for it right now. So. . . Yay! Happy New Baby to me! ;)
Saturday, September 8, 2007
A More Accurate Personality Test
Courtesy of Sarah at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering, who also recently called me a nice person! Thank you, Sarah. I'm not sure how to reconcile these, though. . . ;)
Your Score: Oscar the Grouch
You scored 37% Organization, 73% abstract, and 37% extroverted!
This test measured 3 variables.
First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean.
Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type.
Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself.
You are more sloppy, more abstract, and more introverted.
Here is why are you Oscar the Grouch.
You are both sloppy. You might not always know where everything you need is. Perhaps you don't even care. You don't live in a trash can though.
You both can be abstract thinkers. Oscar's vision of life is very dreamy in an unusual way. His greatest pleasure is being unhappy, but the act of being unhappy makes him happy... which is exactly what he doesn't want. This is a highly illogical and a self-defeating approach. You definitely are not afraid to take chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough to get by.
You are both quite introverted. For whatever reason you prefer not to be around others. You probably have one or two people that you are close with. You'd rather do things by yourself and you dislike working in groups. Oscar hates it when people bug him.
The other possible characters are
Cookie Monster
Big Bird
Snuffleupagus
Ernie
Elmo
Kermit the Frog
Grover
The Count
Guy Smiley
Bert
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The Your Sesame Street Persona test
I'm not sure how to get the nice award to post on my blog, but I will say that top on my list of nice people is Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made On (hi Chris!!). I also have to nominate Kate at Heart Speaks to Heart and Melanie of Wine Dark Sea, both of the Darwins (count 'em--2), all of whom, for the record, make me think of things that I really should be thinking about. Also accomplishing niceness and thoughtfulness are Jen of Et Tu, Jen? and Entropy, both of whom also have a certain "edge" that I appreciate that comes from honesty and frankness, conveyed nicely, that is a real asset to the blogging world. All of the bloggers I have named deserve this more than me!! (I'll take it, though!)
Friday, September 7, 2007
Time for Another Madonna Lactans -or- Breastfeeding as Sacred Sensuality
I have been "pacing" my breastfeeding Virgin images, which I intended, though I had not intended to lose track of them for so long. Though there is a sensuality in the Madonna Lactans images, the sensuality is not to be confused with "sexuality," which was the subject of my past breastfeeding post. Rather, the sensual nature of mother-child contact is shown here in a sacred context, as the contact between mother and child is also the scene of the nurturing of the Son of God.Kate commented on my last breastfeeding post that it is always good to take the opportunity to appreciate the spirituality of day-to-day activities, and I know that's a useful reminder for me. I have posted before on maternal spirituality, and how I find it difficult to see daily tasks as a path to holiness in the manner of a Saint Therese's "Little Way." Breastfeeding, in practice, is not very spiritual for me when I'm doing it. There are usually other distractions. Though it is nice sometimes to have the presence of mind to realize that this is not just a mundane reason to stop whatever else I was doing; rather it is an excuse to stop what I'm doing and focus on my son or daughter, whom I may shuffle aside for one reason or another at other times. Interestingly, this is not what Michelangelo portrays here. Rather, this Virgin is somewhat distracted from her rather older Christ Child, perhaps anticipating that the supper will burn! She is in motion, and even the unfinished, sketchy nature of the image conveys the motion, as my life has been in motion of late--so much so, that I have not even thought of maternal spirituality, or of much that is spiritual. Other bloggers help me with that by posting their own reminders, for which I am constantly grateful. I DID learn recently that Schubert's 'Ave Maria' has a strangely calming effect on me when I am agitated. Another nice reminder, and one of the few semi-spiritual connections I have made of late.
Blog Policies (since it has come to this!)
For the record, snarky comments speculating which comments I will delete WILL be deleted. I don't need anyone to insinuate anything about how I moderate my site (which I don't moderate because I don't get much traffic, and most of the people who visit are well-meaning). I don't see my blog becoming so popular that I have to moderate comments, but if it ever does I will take it down. I don't have enough time or interest to play blog police. In the meantime, I don't need personal attacks from non-internet acquaintances that focus on how I run my blog!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Something I've got to get off of my chest. . .
It's been bothering me since I started the first "friendship" post. I felt awkward theorizing about friendship and talking about failed friendships when many of the people who read these posts are, indeed, friends to me--albeit virtually. The friendships I had in mind were those formed in school, lasting for a year or more. Theorizing virtual friendships would be an entirely different task--and I think I would have to include in that people whom I know in real life, but whom I have come to know more closely through blogs and email. But, really, that kind of thing is such a new experience (for people in general, and for me in particular)! Anyway, this is my disclaimer! I have had more contact with people who do, indeed, see more or less eye-to-eye with me, and who have more in common on a deeper level online than ever before. But it's such a different experience. . .
I also want to mention that Melanie gave me a lead to follow up for Catholic-specific discussions of friendship in a comment to this post! Thanks!
I also want to mention that Melanie gave me a lead to follow up for Catholic-specific discussions of friendship in a comment to this post! Thanks!
Monday, September 3, 2007
What's Making Me Happy These Days
The first week of school (my teaching and my son attending) has successfully come to an end. The library situation resolved itself rather well. I learned from the librarian, also, that the teachers he has are very nurturing, and that this Intermediate campus (5th & 6th) is the more nurturing of the two in the area. It will certainly be a week-by-week proposition--a little more than getting through one day at a time, or one contraction at a time, which I've been hearing a lot about, but the first week has given me hope! I do need to do the class prep for this week, and post assignments for next, but I have an idea of what that will entail, so I'm not too worried. I've been putting in some time working on the dissertation, and have two baby blankets in the works as well!
Although it still seems a bit unreal that there is a new baby on the way, the prospect of having two little girls--sisters--is making me smile. Although I told myself that I would not buy the baby any new clothes (beyond one or two very special things), I have amended that resolution to allow for matching sister outfits! (Hee hee hee!) I got two very cute dress-legging combos by Carters in 24 mos. and 3 mos. this weekend. In my defense, I was picking them out for the toddler, when my husband asked if they came in newborn!! (3 months will be big, but not for long!) I started to put one tiny one back, but then we found out that they were on sale for $9 instead of $12--originally $18. How could I resist? ;)
When I bought the toddler bed a while back, I got my battery-powered nasal aspirator! Silly, perhaps, but with the way my babies' sinuses work, I think it's a good buy. I also found it $10 cheaper than online. Yay!
I did make a soft bedrail of sorts for my daughter's toddler bed, and she isn't scooting out any more!
I have 3 more nursing tops planned, when I get a chance to work on them. Time management is--so far--not as bad as I had feared.
I am looking forward to the return of the baby items (carseat, stroller, small pack n' play with bassinet and organic mattress) that I lent out after my daughter outgrew them. At the time, I believed that it would be an uncomplicated issue. I had no idea that I would find myself pregnant only weeks later! While the loan was not based on the couple's inability to afford baby items, they had expressed a reluctance to spend the money on baby items. The things were lent in good faith, with good intentions. I believe that the loan allowed them to feel like they could spend money in other areas, to feel good about more expensive baby purchases than they might have "risked" otherwise. The return was less-than-pleasant for complicated reasons. I am hoping that the items reach me in good condition. Having them shipped to me--particularly with no insurance--was not my preference, and I had made other arrangements accordingly. But, it is done. Now I have only to wait. I am happy thinking about getting them and setting everything up, though anxious about the surrounding circumstances.
I learned recently that I will have help beyond my expectations from my department, who will be helping to arrange for a single substitute while I am out so that my students will not feel shuffled about. Yay! After the trouble I have had with my teaching assignment, and after walking around with somewhat of a chip on my shoulder the first week, awaiting judgment, and even after being ignored (but perhaps there are other reasons) by tenured prof who asked me if I would be on the job market this year after saying that I would not be able to attend the large national conference this year, though I was open to other alternatives, this came as a nice surprise.
Another thought or two:
What's making me happy? Dr. Pepper and dark chocolate (not necessarily together)!
And I have been thinking, recently, of the births of my other two children as a result of the childbirth classes. Now, I'm not sure how much pitocin affects the pushing stage, but I learned recently--and I did not know this before--that pushing can take up to 2 hours. Yipes!! When I had just passed transition (miserably, but quickly) with my son, my doctor said it would only be about 2 hours more. Well, I was determined that it would be nowhere close to 2 hours. So in spite of the fact that he was 9 1/2 lbs., my first baby, that I had an epidural and couldn't feel much, was FLAT on my back--which, of course, is the worst possible position for pushing, he was up pretty high considering he was ready to be born ANY TIME NOW and the nurse was applying pressure just bellow my ribs (gravity would have helped) to get him to descend, and in spite of the fact that the doctor thought that she might have to use forceps, she did NOT have to use forceps, and he was born in 45 min. Now really, that's not bad. I didn't realize that at the time. I didn't realize it afterwards. In fact, I was incredulous at the 2 hr. estimate. I thought she was trying to motivate me. Well, it worked. But no one really told me I had done a good job, and it's taken me 10 years to figure it out. And then my daughter was born after only a few pushes--15 or 20 minutes. But she was smaller, with a much smaller head. But still not bad! I felt a lot of satisfaction after she was born.
I did also forget to mention that at my last prenatal visit, my doctor observed that this is not a small baby! Not a 9-pounder, she says, but not a 7 pounder either (unless she's impatient like her sister, I guess. . .). So that's good! A nice, big, healthy baby, if all continues as it is now! And as an added bonus, that means that a good bit of the 12 lbs. I've gained at this point is BABY, and I don't have to worry about the low weight gain. Yay!
And August is OVER! :D
Although it still seems a bit unreal that there is a new baby on the way, the prospect of having two little girls--sisters--is making me smile. Although I told myself that I would not buy the baby any new clothes (beyond one or two very special things), I have amended that resolution to allow for matching sister outfits! (Hee hee hee!) I got two very cute dress-legging combos by Carters in 24 mos. and 3 mos. this weekend. In my defense, I was picking them out for the toddler, when my husband asked if they came in newborn!! (3 months will be big, but not for long!) I started to put one tiny one back, but then we found out that they were on sale for $9 instead of $12--originally $18. How could I resist? ;)
When I bought the toddler bed a while back, I got my battery-powered nasal aspirator! Silly, perhaps, but with the way my babies' sinuses work, I think it's a good buy. I also found it $10 cheaper than online. Yay!
I did make a soft bedrail of sorts for my daughter's toddler bed, and she isn't scooting out any more!
I have 3 more nursing tops planned, when I get a chance to work on them. Time management is--so far--not as bad as I had feared.
I am looking forward to the return of the baby items (carseat, stroller, small pack n' play with bassinet and organic mattress) that I lent out after my daughter outgrew them. At the time, I believed that it would be an uncomplicated issue. I had no idea that I would find myself pregnant only weeks later! While the loan was not based on the couple's inability to afford baby items, they had expressed a reluctance to spend the money on baby items. The things were lent in good faith, with good intentions. I believe that the loan allowed them to feel like they could spend money in other areas, to feel good about more expensive baby purchases than they might have "risked" otherwise. The return was less-than-pleasant for complicated reasons. I am hoping that the items reach me in good condition. Having them shipped to me--particularly with no insurance--was not my preference, and I had made other arrangements accordingly. But, it is done. Now I have only to wait. I am happy thinking about getting them and setting everything up, though anxious about the surrounding circumstances.
I learned recently that I will have help beyond my expectations from my department, who will be helping to arrange for a single substitute while I am out so that my students will not feel shuffled about. Yay! After the trouble I have had with my teaching assignment, and after walking around with somewhat of a chip on my shoulder the first week, awaiting judgment, and even after being ignored (but perhaps there are other reasons) by tenured prof who asked me if I would be on the job market this year after saying that I would not be able to attend the large national conference this year, though I was open to other alternatives, this came as a nice surprise.
Another thought or two:
What's making me happy? Dr. Pepper and dark chocolate (not necessarily together)!
And I have been thinking, recently, of the births of my other two children as a result of the childbirth classes. Now, I'm not sure how much pitocin affects the pushing stage, but I learned recently--and I did not know this before--that pushing can take up to 2 hours. Yipes!! When I had just passed transition (miserably, but quickly) with my son, my doctor said it would only be about 2 hours more. Well, I was determined that it would be nowhere close to 2 hours. So in spite of the fact that he was 9 1/2 lbs., my first baby, that I had an epidural and couldn't feel much, was FLAT on my back--which, of course, is the worst possible position for pushing, he was up pretty high considering he was ready to be born ANY TIME NOW and the nurse was applying pressure just bellow my ribs (gravity would have helped) to get him to descend, and in spite of the fact that the doctor thought that she might have to use forceps, she did NOT have to use forceps, and he was born in 45 min. Now really, that's not bad. I didn't realize that at the time. I didn't realize it afterwards. In fact, I was incredulous at the 2 hr. estimate. I thought she was trying to motivate me. Well, it worked. But no one really told me I had done a good job, and it's taken me 10 years to figure it out. And then my daughter was born after only a few pushes--15 or 20 minutes. But she was smaller, with a much smaller head. But still not bad! I felt a lot of satisfaction after she was born.
I did also forget to mention that at my last prenatal visit, my doctor observed that this is not a small baby! Not a 9-pounder, she says, but not a 7 pounder either (unless she's impatient like her sister, I guess. . .). So that's good! A nice, big, healthy baby, if all continues as it is now! And as an added bonus, that means that a good bit of the 12 lbs. I've gained at this point is BABY, and I don't have to worry about the low weight gain. Yay!
And August is OVER! :D
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Friendship, More or Less Generally Speaking
This post grows out of my previous post on Catholic Friendship, and refers frequently to comments made by others on my post. Actually, it started as a comment, but grew out of control and asserted its need to have its own space. Also, I posted something about my son's school library experience, and didn't want that one to overshadow the friendship discussion, which I have been enjoying!
One thing that has occurred to me is that I posed this in terms of Catholicism in particular. This is because there is so much in scripture and hence, in the homilies, about interpersonal relations. But these references are generally not referring to friendships. Usually, the relations between people that are mentioned are between people who do not know each other. There is also the idea that all earthly relationships should be second to the relationship with God, stated most explicitly in the "leave your family and follow me" passage(s), which I have never heard explained adequately--that is, explained in a way that helped me to actually understand it--in a way that gave me that "aha!" moment. There is a separate theology and discourse of marriage within Catholicism, which lead me to the question of a Catholic theology of friendship.
Separately, I had been thinking about one of Kate's earlier posts, as I explained in my earlier post on friendship, which specifically mentioned forming friendships with Catholic couples specifically, and thinking of the Catholic friends I have or have had, which led also to the formation of this question in terms of Catholicism. I wasn't necessarily thinking only of the good of Catholics seeking friendships with other Catholics, however; I was also thinking of the difficulties. Entropy mentions that even though her husband is not Catholic, they share most if not all (not wanting to misrepresent her characterization!) of their deeply held beliefs about religion. By contrast, it is possible for two Catholics not to share any of their deeply help beliefs--or at any rate, not to be able to express them in a way that promotes mutual understanding. There might be such animosity over certain questions of faith, or such defensiveness, that even when the two agree it feels like disagreement. And yet, the friendship persists, where maybe it shouldn't.
Entropy mentioned how great it was to know so many Catholic bloggers, because it is nice to know that there are people with the same worldview and background. That has been wonderful for me, too! And that feeling, I think, is what we seek when we seek other Catholics (virtually or in "real life") as friends--that commonality of deeply help belief that Mrs. Darwin, Melanie, Kate, and Sarahndipity have all mentioned. I have never really know that before, being a convert whose friends were mostly not Catholic, and whose Catholic friends ranged anywhere from laissez-faire, to Sunday-only, to cafeteria, to sincerely struggling, to complete acceptance without struggling. . . and the descriptions could go on. It's surprising how many Catholics one gets to know even by accident! ;) The great thing, too, is when those virtual friendships come to feel more real than virtual, when those little off-blog exchanges happen, when we actually get to meet each other in person. It's another new experience for me, and I feel like I'm waxing poetic about it. I must be in a good mood. (The library email was somewhat cathartic, and I've been happy since my class last night, which reminded me that I actually do like teaching! I've also been strangely productive lately, probably because I've been blogging less. :( Oh well!) But I have been self-conscious about my post because it seemed to limit the nature of the friendships I was talking about to specifically Catholic, or specifically religious-based friendships. (My post--not the comments!!) I wanted to think about friendship from the perspective of myself as a Catholic first, then (possibly) in terms of Catholics being friends with other Catholics and whether it creates more tensions or more sympathies, but inevitably in terms of friendships more generally.
So I asked a non-blogging but heavy-emailing deacon friend of mine a shorter version of the question I posed initially--whether there is a Catholic theology of friendship. While he had not heard of such a thing, he suggested that the underlying principles should be prayer and forgiveness. The forgiveness part certainly makes sense, though I'm not sure I understand the prayer part. He answered in brief and promised to think more about it, so perhaps I will eventually get him to explain the prayer. Forgiveness is so fundamentally Christian--having particular emphasis in Catholicism, in my opinion--that it is certainly a good basic principle to employ in friendship. However, forgiveness implies that something has already gone wrong. It is also difficult to anticipate how forgiveness will best be achieved or expressed if, indeed, it becomes necessary during the course of the friendship. I found myself, after converting, revisiting in my mind friendships that had ended badly with people from whom I was long estranged, asking myself if I had forgiven them, asking for the grace to forgive them, in some cases, asking for the grace to be able to stop reliving the circumstances of the friendship or breakup of the friendship or whatever. I believe that I had already forgiven some simply because of the distance of time, but that seems too easy; I had not made the conscious effort to acknowledge the forgiveness. But those were not relationships that could be resurrected. It is possible that even if they could have been resurrected, the friendship would not have been worth saving. Or equally possible that, had they continued, the friendship itself would not have allowed for forgiveness in the same way that distance has. I alluded in a comment to my post that some friendships could be "dysfunctional." Even if we consider ourselves friends, behave like friends, care like friends, even care passionately--are there friendships that simply should not continue? Luckily, friendships are not Sacraments, as I've said before, and do not require annulment--we don't have to declare that the friendship was fundamentally flawed from the beginning. . . or is that really what I'm suggesting?
My friend also suggested that if a friendship in some way interferes with one's relationship with God or if it becomes an occasion of sin, one should consider moving on. . . That is an interesting concept. Friendships can be occasions of sin in large ways, I would imagine, inspiring lust, leading one to commit crimes, indulge in excesses; but what about friendships that inspire envy or anger? Of course, these could be looked at as opportunities for improvement. Basically, in the case of a bad friendship, these things can get very, very complicated.
I confess that I have experienced many more bad friendships than good ones. The intense ones tended to be the ones that ended badly--with a need to completely remove oneself from the person. The lukewarm ones simply faded away. There have been some good friendships along the way, people who, should we chance to meet again, would be happy to see me, and with whom I could spend a lot of time "catching up" before fading away again. People with whom I shared some commonalities, though not the deepest, and with whom I probably share very little at this point.
When I think of those deep-but-failed friendships, I can liken them to passionately flawed dating relationships or teenage obsessions. The world revolved around those relationships, but when they were over and sufficient time had passed, I/we/you realized that they were started for the wrong reasons, were woefully lopsided, and doomed to failure, or, if not, to utter misery. There was enough "there" to form a strong attraction, but there was also some great incompatibility.
The idea that Sarahndipity mentions about people with children assuming that other people with children will have commonalities is an interesting case. It is similar (though perhaps only similar on a surface-level) to the "Catholic friend" question, though only in that it is one shared commonality among many possibly commonalities. Also, while one assumes a greater common background among Catholics than among parents of children, both have many possible variations.
Having said this, it is also a new experience for me to have friends who have children. Until recently, I just didn't know many people with children. Being in grad school and having children creates a bond of sorts. In fact, just the experience of giving birth gives women something to talk about who might not be able to stay in the same room with one another otherwise. These are starting points for friendships, but don't necessarily spell success, I guess. It is something I have enjoyed lately, though--the company of other smart moms!!
What is success in friendship, by the way? I've suggested my marriage as a successful friendship, but surely friendship does not need to be held to such a strict standard! Something more to ponder, I guess. . .
Reading Kate's recent blog entry on friendships, which she writes in part a reaction to my original post, I was struck by many things. Thanks, Kate, for such a great post on the topic! When Kate quotes Cicero, I feel as she said she would have felt in high school. Cicero writes:
"Friendship may be defined as a complete identity of feeling about all things in heaven and earth: an identity which is strengthened by mutual goodwill and affection."
And, well, I have not yet met anyone (to whom I am not married) about whom I can say these things. I felt, upon first reading this, that it was an impossible standard. My friendships have been mostly the type that involve stimulating conversation and interest in some aspect of the other person's life--and not much more. I found the following observation of Kate's rather profound:
I discovered that my friendships had bottoms, walls. Stopping points. Places beyond which we did not go. The freedom I had found in friendship – the freedom to enjoy each other, to be unafraid of rejection, to grow alongside one another – the freedom had limits.
And her discussion of her own experiences with friendships is touching and insightful.
At the end of the film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, the main character says to her daughter that she was simply not meant to have a passionate, loving romantic relationship, and that, really, she hasn't missed it. I wonder if having a passionate, loving marriage is compensation for the lack of other types of friendships? (Or something better than compensation, since it is a deeper bond--indeed, a Sacrament!)
Different personality types have different needs where personal relationships are concerned. Some do need more than one close friend. I'm not sure that any friendship could be as deep or fulfilling as the one I have. And I'm not sure it matters. I like having friends to talk to and who offer different perspectives on the world. I like giving things that others need. But I may go too far--giving too much and being hurt if the other is not "there" for me in a similar way, when not everyone shares the same capacity for emotional support. And we can't expect reciprocity if there is no capacity for reciprocity in the other person. But what about the giving? It seems Christian to give, and yet giving until we hurt without mutual understanding, with different ideas of respect and admiration, with what is essentially self-sacrifice. . . Is that appropriate, even for a Christian friendship? I suppose that may in fact lead both away from God rather than toward.
I've wondered what it says about me as a person that I have not had many close friendships or (any?) lasting friendships. I admit that I am not a particularly trusting person, so that is likely one fault I bring to the formation of friendships. But if, as Kate suggests, ideal friendships are bound by a desire to see one another in heaven (which should probably be the foundation for that "missing" Catholic theology of friendship!!), this has not entered into any of my friendships. It is simply not a habit of thinking that I have had toward anyone until recently, and that I have had it at all was a gift of grace taught to me through my family, and one of my strongest pulls to Catholicism. So if the ultimate friendship is a Christian friendship in more than just the sense that both parties happen to be Christian (or Catholic), I'm simply not there yet. Considering that, as someone said, it is harder to make (close?) friends when one is married (and perhaps even harder when one has children), maybe I won't have that kind of friendship at all. There are lots of nice people I wouldn't mind seeing in heaven, I'm just not sure our paths to holiness intersect! ;)
I'm afraid I have rambled more than is usually advisable in a blog post, but I'm hoping that there are enough tidbits here to initiate some more comments, for which I have been grateful!
One thing that has occurred to me is that I posed this in terms of Catholicism in particular. This is because there is so much in scripture and hence, in the homilies, about interpersonal relations. But these references are generally not referring to friendships. Usually, the relations between people that are mentioned are between people who do not know each other. There is also the idea that all earthly relationships should be second to the relationship with God, stated most explicitly in the "leave your family and follow me" passage(s), which I have never heard explained adequately--that is, explained in a way that helped me to actually understand it--in a way that gave me that "aha!" moment. There is a separate theology and discourse of marriage within Catholicism, which lead me to the question of a Catholic theology of friendship.
Separately, I had been thinking about one of Kate's earlier posts, as I explained in my earlier post on friendship, which specifically mentioned forming friendships with Catholic couples specifically, and thinking of the Catholic friends I have or have had, which led also to the formation of this question in terms of Catholicism. I wasn't necessarily thinking only of the good of Catholics seeking friendships with other Catholics, however; I was also thinking of the difficulties. Entropy mentions that even though her husband is not Catholic, they share most if not all (not wanting to misrepresent her characterization!) of their deeply held beliefs about religion. By contrast, it is possible for two Catholics not to share any of their deeply help beliefs--or at any rate, not to be able to express them in a way that promotes mutual understanding. There might be such animosity over certain questions of faith, or such defensiveness, that even when the two agree it feels like disagreement. And yet, the friendship persists, where maybe it shouldn't.
Entropy mentioned how great it was to know so many Catholic bloggers, because it is nice to know that there are people with the same worldview and background. That has been wonderful for me, too! And that feeling, I think, is what we seek when we seek other Catholics (virtually or in "real life") as friends--that commonality of deeply help belief that Mrs. Darwin, Melanie, Kate, and Sarahndipity have all mentioned. I have never really know that before, being a convert whose friends were mostly not Catholic, and whose Catholic friends ranged anywhere from laissez-faire, to Sunday-only, to cafeteria, to sincerely struggling, to complete acceptance without struggling. . . and the descriptions could go on. It's surprising how many Catholics one gets to know even by accident! ;) The great thing, too, is when those virtual friendships come to feel more real than virtual, when those little off-blog exchanges happen, when we actually get to meet each other in person. It's another new experience for me, and I feel like I'm waxing poetic about it. I must be in a good mood. (The library email was somewhat cathartic, and I've been happy since my class last night, which reminded me that I actually do like teaching! I've also been strangely productive lately, probably because I've been blogging less. :( Oh well!) But I have been self-conscious about my post because it seemed to limit the nature of the friendships I was talking about to specifically Catholic, or specifically religious-based friendships. (My post--not the comments!!) I wanted to think about friendship from the perspective of myself as a Catholic first, then (possibly) in terms of Catholics being friends with other Catholics and whether it creates more tensions or more sympathies, but inevitably in terms of friendships more generally.
So I asked a non-blogging but heavy-emailing deacon friend of mine a shorter version of the question I posed initially--whether there is a Catholic theology of friendship. While he had not heard of such a thing, he suggested that the underlying principles should be prayer and forgiveness. The forgiveness part certainly makes sense, though I'm not sure I understand the prayer part. He answered in brief and promised to think more about it, so perhaps I will eventually get him to explain the prayer. Forgiveness is so fundamentally Christian--having particular emphasis in Catholicism, in my opinion--that it is certainly a good basic principle to employ in friendship. However, forgiveness implies that something has already gone wrong. It is also difficult to anticipate how forgiveness will best be achieved or expressed if, indeed, it becomes necessary during the course of the friendship. I found myself, after converting, revisiting in my mind friendships that had ended badly with people from whom I was long estranged, asking myself if I had forgiven them, asking for the grace to forgive them, in some cases, asking for the grace to be able to stop reliving the circumstances of the friendship or breakup of the friendship or whatever. I believe that I had already forgiven some simply because of the distance of time, but that seems too easy; I had not made the conscious effort to acknowledge the forgiveness. But those were not relationships that could be resurrected. It is possible that even if they could have been resurrected, the friendship would not have been worth saving. Or equally possible that, had they continued, the friendship itself would not have allowed for forgiveness in the same way that distance has. I alluded in a comment to my post that some friendships could be "dysfunctional." Even if we consider ourselves friends, behave like friends, care like friends, even care passionately--are there friendships that simply should not continue? Luckily, friendships are not Sacraments, as I've said before, and do not require annulment--we don't have to declare that the friendship was fundamentally flawed from the beginning. . . or is that really what I'm suggesting?
My friend also suggested that if a friendship in some way interferes with one's relationship with God or if it becomes an occasion of sin, one should consider moving on. . . That is an interesting concept. Friendships can be occasions of sin in large ways, I would imagine, inspiring lust, leading one to commit crimes, indulge in excesses; but what about friendships that inspire envy or anger? Of course, these could be looked at as opportunities for improvement. Basically, in the case of a bad friendship, these things can get very, very complicated.
I confess that I have experienced many more bad friendships than good ones. The intense ones tended to be the ones that ended badly--with a need to completely remove oneself from the person. The lukewarm ones simply faded away. There have been some good friendships along the way, people who, should we chance to meet again, would be happy to see me, and with whom I could spend a lot of time "catching up" before fading away again. People with whom I shared some commonalities, though not the deepest, and with whom I probably share very little at this point.
When I think of those deep-but-failed friendships, I can liken them to passionately flawed dating relationships or teenage obsessions. The world revolved around those relationships, but when they were over and sufficient time had passed, I/we/you realized that they were started for the wrong reasons, were woefully lopsided, and doomed to failure, or, if not, to utter misery. There was enough "there" to form a strong attraction, but there was also some great incompatibility.
The idea that Sarahndipity mentions about people with children assuming that other people with children will have commonalities is an interesting case. It is similar (though perhaps only similar on a surface-level) to the "Catholic friend" question, though only in that it is one shared commonality among many possibly commonalities. Also, while one assumes a greater common background among Catholics than among parents of children, both have many possible variations.
Having said this, it is also a new experience for me to have friends who have children. Until recently, I just didn't know many people with children. Being in grad school and having children creates a bond of sorts. In fact, just the experience of giving birth gives women something to talk about who might not be able to stay in the same room with one another otherwise. These are starting points for friendships, but don't necessarily spell success, I guess. It is something I have enjoyed lately, though--the company of other smart moms!!
What is success in friendship, by the way? I've suggested my marriage as a successful friendship, but surely friendship does not need to be held to such a strict standard! Something more to ponder, I guess. . .
Reading Kate's recent blog entry on friendships, which she writes in part a reaction to my original post, I was struck by many things. Thanks, Kate, for such a great post on the topic! When Kate quotes Cicero, I feel as she said she would have felt in high school. Cicero writes:
"Friendship may be defined as a complete identity of feeling about all things in heaven and earth: an identity which is strengthened by mutual goodwill and affection."
And, well, I have not yet met anyone (to whom I am not married) about whom I can say these things. I felt, upon first reading this, that it was an impossible standard. My friendships have been mostly the type that involve stimulating conversation and interest in some aspect of the other person's life--and not much more. I found the following observation of Kate's rather profound:
I discovered that my friendships had bottoms, walls. Stopping points. Places beyond which we did not go. The freedom I had found in friendship – the freedom to enjoy each other, to be unafraid of rejection, to grow alongside one another – the freedom had limits.
And her discussion of her own experiences with friendships is touching and insightful.
At the end of the film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, the main character says to her daughter that she was simply not meant to have a passionate, loving romantic relationship, and that, really, she hasn't missed it. I wonder if having a passionate, loving marriage is compensation for the lack of other types of friendships? (Or something better than compensation, since it is a deeper bond--indeed, a Sacrament!)
Different personality types have different needs where personal relationships are concerned. Some do need more than one close friend. I'm not sure that any friendship could be as deep or fulfilling as the one I have. And I'm not sure it matters. I like having friends to talk to and who offer different perspectives on the world. I like giving things that others need. But I may go too far--giving too much and being hurt if the other is not "there" for me in a similar way, when not everyone shares the same capacity for emotional support. And we can't expect reciprocity if there is no capacity for reciprocity in the other person. But what about the giving? It seems Christian to give, and yet giving until we hurt without mutual understanding, with different ideas of respect and admiration, with what is essentially self-sacrifice. . . Is that appropriate, even for a Christian friendship? I suppose that may in fact lead both away from God rather than toward.
I've wondered what it says about me as a person that I have not had many close friendships or (any?) lasting friendships. I admit that I am not a particularly trusting person, so that is likely one fault I bring to the formation of friendships. But if, as Kate suggests, ideal friendships are bound by a desire to see one another in heaven (which should probably be the foundation for that "missing" Catholic theology of friendship!!), this has not entered into any of my friendships. It is simply not a habit of thinking that I have had toward anyone until recently, and that I have had it at all was a gift of grace taught to me through my family, and one of my strongest pulls to Catholicism. So if the ultimate friendship is a Christian friendship in more than just the sense that both parties happen to be Christian (or Catholic), I'm simply not there yet. Considering that, as someone said, it is harder to make (close?) friends when one is married (and perhaps even harder when one has children), maybe I won't have that kind of friendship at all. There are lots of nice people I wouldn't mind seeing in heaven, I'm just not sure our paths to holiness intersect! ;)
I'm afraid I have rambled more than is usually advisable in a blog post, but I'm hoping that there are enough tidbits here to initiate some more comments, for which I have been grateful!
5th Grade Library Blues
Just to give all of you homeschoolers a taste of what you're missing! ;) The school year started on Monday (I started teaching last night), and while it's too early to gauge, I have great hopes that this year will be better for my son (and, hence, for me) than the last. There will, of course, be little glitches along the way. Try to imagine what prompted this email:
Dear Ms. Librarian,
My name is Literacy-chic, and we visited on "meet the teacher" night. You might remember that I was accompanied by my son, my husband, and my very mobile toddler, and we talked specifically about fantasy and about the difficulty of finding appropriate books at my son's reading level.
I wanted to email you today to see if I could clarify your policies on checking out books--specifically, what guidelines govern their selection of books. My son returned from library (from Ms. Language Arts Teacher's class) without a library book today because, while he was interested in several books, they were all part of different series, and he was told that he had to start from the beginning of the series, or read the series in publication order. When he looked for the appropriate books, they had apparently been checked out by other students.
You must realize, first of all, that this is the consequence of having library on a Wednesday. The students who have library earlier in the week--or even earlier in the day--have a much better selection of books than those who have library later in the week (or day). So if the students are limited by the fact that their chosen books are part of a series, they are then further limited by the library's holdings and other children's selections. In order for every child to read every series in its proper order, the library should ideally have enough copies of each volume for every child who wants to read it at a given time. Of course, this is not possible. When I was in 6th grade, I was introduced to the Chronicles of Narnia by a school librarian. The books were not available in their publication order (which has since been changed by MacMillan), but I was able to read them when they were returned (in more or less . In addition, the library was missing a volume--The Magician's Nephew, but I was able to continue reading the series in spite of that, and read that book at a later date, after buying a copy for myself. I don't feel that this circumstance lessened my enjoyment or my understanding of the series. In fact, I wrote my M.A. thesis on the Chronicles of Narnia.
The Chronicles of Narnia are an excellent example of how children's books published serially can function. As I mentioned, the original publication order of the books has, within the past 10 or 15 years, been altered from the original publication order as it was at the time of the author's death, with little more than the whim of a publisher and Lewis's letter to a 6-year-old child to substantiate this decision. However, while I personally prefer the original order of publication for reasons of authorial development and the structure of the series as a whole, I must admit that it does not lessen children's enjoyment of the books to have the order changed. Their experience of reading the books is different, but not necessarily inferior.
The test of a good children's book, even if it is a part of a series, is its ability to stand on its own. I read the first two Harry Potter books, became disillusioned with the writing, and then resumed after I saw The Order of the Phoenix because that story seemed so compelling to me. I might have never finished the series (and I'm still working on it) had I felt the need to read the books in their publication order. This same experience might be true for my son, or for any other child--that the desire to read some books in the series is stronger than others, and by starting in the middle, he or she might have the desire to read the entire series from the beginning. On the other hand, if reading the early books seems like it is forced upon the child, or a chore, or if the books are simply not available when he is ready and willing to read them, the child might not read the series at all, which would certainly not be the desirable outcome.
My ideal is for my son to be inspired to read, and to choose library books, with your help and advice at times, that he will really enjoy. If the availability of books becomes a problem, leading to frustration or to his inability to find a book in the specified time, then this goal is not being accomplished. Do you have any suggestions for how we might be able to work through this problem? Might he be able to check out the next book in line, even if the first (or whichever is next in queue) is unavailable?
I am cc-ing Mrs. Language Arts Teacher, so she will know why my son is reading a book from home (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix) rather than a book from the library. He had not checked out a book, was afraid of a detention for being tardy, and was probably a bit discouraged when she came to tell the class it was time to return to class.
Thank you for considering my perspective on this. Children's literature happens to be a passion that we share!
Sincerely,
Literacy-chic
Dear Ms. Librarian,
My name is Literacy-chic, and we visited on "meet the teacher" night. You might remember that I was accompanied by my son, my husband, and my very mobile toddler, and we talked specifically about fantasy and about the difficulty of finding appropriate books at my son's reading level.
I wanted to email you today to see if I could clarify your policies on checking out books--specifically, what guidelines govern their selection of books. My son returned from library (from Ms. Language Arts Teacher's class) without a library book today because, while he was interested in several books, they were all part of different series, and he was told that he had to start from the beginning of the series, or read the series in publication order. When he looked for the appropriate books, they had apparently been checked out by other students.
You must realize, first of all, that this is the consequence of having library on a Wednesday. The students who have library earlier in the week--or even earlier in the day--have a much better selection of books than those who have library later in the week (or day). So if the students are limited by the fact that their chosen books are part of a series, they are then further limited by the library's holdings and other children's selections. In order for every child to read every series in its proper order, the library should ideally have enough copies of each volume for every child who wants to read it at a given time. Of course, this is not possible. When I was in 6th grade, I was introduced to the Chronicles of Narnia by a school librarian. The books were not available in their publication order (which has since been changed by MacMillan), but I was able to read them when they were returned (in more or less . In addition, the library was missing a volume--The Magician's Nephew, but I was able to continue reading the series in spite of that, and read that book at a later date, after buying a copy for myself. I don't feel that this circumstance lessened my enjoyment or my understanding of the series. In fact, I wrote my M.A. thesis on the Chronicles of Narnia.
The Chronicles of Narnia are an excellent example of how children's books published serially can function. As I mentioned, the original publication order of the books has, within the past 10 or 15 years, been altered from the original publication order as it was at the time of the author's death, with little more than the whim of a publisher and Lewis's letter to a 6-year-old child to substantiate this decision. However, while I personally prefer the original order of publication for reasons of authorial development and the structure of the series as a whole, I must admit that it does not lessen children's enjoyment of the books to have the order changed. Their experience of reading the books is different, but not necessarily inferior.
The test of a good children's book, even if it is a part of a series, is its ability to stand on its own. I read the first two Harry Potter books, became disillusioned with the writing, and then resumed after I saw The Order of the Phoenix because that story seemed so compelling to me. I might have never finished the series (and I'm still working on it) had I felt the need to read the books in their publication order. This same experience might be true for my son, or for any other child--that the desire to read some books in the series is stronger than others, and by starting in the middle, he or she might have the desire to read the entire series from the beginning. On the other hand, if reading the early books seems like it is forced upon the child, or a chore, or if the books are simply not available when he is ready and willing to read them, the child might not read the series at all, which would certainly not be the desirable outcome.
My ideal is for my son to be inspired to read, and to choose library books, with your help and advice at times, that he will really enjoy. If the availability of books becomes a problem, leading to frustration or to his inability to find a book in the specified time, then this goal is not being accomplished. Do you have any suggestions for how we might be able to work through this problem? Might he be able to check out the next book in line, even if the first (or whichever is next in queue) is unavailable?
I am cc-ing Mrs. Language Arts Teacher, so she will know why my son is reading a book from home (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix) rather than a book from the library. He had not checked out a book, was afraid of a detention for being tardy, and was probably a bit discouraged when she came to tell the class it was time to return to class.
Thank you for considering my perspective on this. Children's literature happens to be a passion that we share!
Sincerely,
Literacy-chic
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Catholic Friendship?
I've been thinking a lot about the nature of friendship lately, and how the concept of friendship should be regarded in terms of Catholicism. If there is a theology of friendship, it's not something I have come across yet. Friendship is certainly not a Sacrament, but it almost seems to me that it might have the quality of a sacramental, though it could be that that just sounds nice, since I'm not prepared to elaborate on it at this time.
My greatest friendship is, of course, my marriage. It seems natural, though not all people see marriage in that way. Interestingly, it is also the only friendship I have had in my life that I can consider truly successful. I attribute this, in part, to the fact that my husband and I are alike enough and different enough in the right ways for a really deep friendship to work. I don't doubt that it is possible to have love without this kind of friendship, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Otherwise, friends come and friends go. Sometimes they drift away naturally, sometimes there is something more explosive involved. Usually with the friends whom I consider to be closer, the end is more explosive.
With a friendship as consuming as my marriage, other friendships have been mostly matters of acquaintance. I have hesitated to call colleagues friends, for the most part, though this has altered as I have found more colleagues with more in common with me--family situation, in particular. Which brings up the question of on what bases friendships are built. Clearly, friends don't have to have any similarities. But it likely helps. Friends I knew in high school used to quote a line from the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead: "All we have in common is our situation." But is that truly enough?
Perhaps there needs to be some kind of mutual understanding. Or perhaps just the desire to be friends. An enjoyment of each others' company. But don't we have friends whose company we find agitating and antagonistic? What about concern for the other's well-being? Is that enough? And at what point, if any, should friends part ways? Like I said, it has always happened rather naturally for me--sometimes from mutual apathy, one might say. Other times from deep betrayal and hurt. Somehow, neither of these options feels particularly desirable from a Christian perspective. But does "loving one's neighbor" necessarily involve indissoluble bonds? Perhaps remaining true to such bonds teaches us about Christ. (Is that what I meant by friendship being a "sacramental"?)
Recently, Entropy and Kate have posted on different aspects of friendship, the former involving bloggers and the latter involving finding Catholic couples to hang out with. (Though I can no longer find Entropy's entry, I think that she was approaching some aspect of the post through a Catholic lens, even if it was through the lens of Catholic guilt--just kidding! At least, I think I'm just kidding. Unless I'm right. . .) I know that when I read Kate's post, I wondered about the Catholic connection--and the couples' connection. I've never thought specifically in terms of either. But it does kind of make me ponder the benefits--and possibly the additional responsibilities and constraints involved--in having or seeking Catholic friends in particular. Especially "like minded" Catholic friends.
I confess that this is a post of questions. I have no answers. But friendship has always been somewhat of a struggle for me, and I'm not sure if it has been because of some failing on my part or on the part of others. It is some of what made sense on that "personality quiz." (And the thing about being laid back--which I define loosely--until a vital principle is violated plays into this, too; friendships can easily be lost over such principles.) I take relationships very seriously, invest a lot emotionally in a very few friendships, and, well, this is not always considered a "healthy" state of things in the "real" world of post-Freudian pop-psychology. It made my life h*ll in high school, gotta tell you.
My greatest friendship is, of course, my marriage. It seems natural, though not all people see marriage in that way. Interestingly, it is also the only friendship I have had in my life that I can consider truly successful. I attribute this, in part, to the fact that my husband and I are alike enough and different enough in the right ways for a really deep friendship to work. I don't doubt that it is possible to have love without this kind of friendship, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Otherwise, friends come and friends go. Sometimes they drift away naturally, sometimes there is something more explosive involved. Usually with the friends whom I consider to be closer, the end is more explosive.
With a friendship as consuming as my marriage, other friendships have been mostly matters of acquaintance. I have hesitated to call colleagues friends, for the most part, though this has altered as I have found more colleagues with more in common with me--family situation, in particular. Which brings up the question of on what bases friendships are built. Clearly, friends don't have to have any similarities. But it likely helps. Friends I knew in high school used to quote a line from the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead: "All we have in common is our situation." But is that truly enough?
Perhaps there needs to be some kind of mutual understanding. Or perhaps just the desire to be friends. An enjoyment of each others' company. But don't we have friends whose company we find agitating and antagonistic? What about concern for the other's well-being? Is that enough? And at what point, if any, should friends part ways? Like I said, it has always happened rather naturally for me--sometimes from mutual apathy, one might say. Other times from deep betrayal and hurt. Somehow, neither of these options feels particularly desirable from a Christian perspective. But does "loving one's neighbor" necessarily involve indissoluble bonds? Perhaps remaining true to such bonds teaches us about Christ. (Is that what I meant by friendship being a "sacramental"?)
Recently, Entropy and Kate have posted on different aspects of friendship, the former involving bloggers and the latter involving finding Catholic couples to hang out with. (Though I can no longer find Entropy's entry, I think that she was approaching some aspect of the post through a Catholic lens, even if it was through the lens of Catholic guilt--just kidding! At least, I think I'm just kidding. Unless I'm right. . .) I know that when I read Kate's post, I wondered about the Catholic connection--and the couples' connection. I've never thought specifically in terms of either. But it does kind of make me ponder the benefits--and possibly the additional responsibilities and constraints involved--in having or seeking Catholic friends in particular. Especially "like minded" Catholic friends.
I confess that this is a post of questions. I have no answers. But friendship has always been somewhat of a struggle for me, and I'm not sure if it has been because of some failing on my part or on the part of others. It is some of what made sense on that "personality quiz." (And the thing about being laid back--which I define loosely--until a vital principle is violated plays into this, too; friendships can easily be lost over such principles.) I take relationships very seriously, invest a lot emotionally in a very few friendships, and, well, this is not always considered a "healthy" state of things in the "real" world of post-Freudian pop-psychology. It made my life h*ll in high school, gotta tell you.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Toddler Bed Safety!!
We've been wanting to move the little one to a toddler bed for a while. The original plan was to gradually transition her into the room with her brother by having her nap in his old toddler bed during the day. This didn't work for several reasons. First, I just forgot on most days. I was always afraid that instead of coming out of the room right away, she would climb to the top of the bunk bed. And, well, for night time, the room where her brother sleeps is just too darned far away. Her brother slept in our room until he was about 4 years old, at which time he moved into a room adjoining ours. I still would prefer for him to be closer in case he needs us. So having her in the front bedroom (which, incidently, is closer to the front door), is really out of the question. Failing that, we moved on to a second plan, which involved moving our son's old toddler bed--a very nice, non-character shaped, non-race-car, Step 2 plastic model--into the space occupied by her crib. Unfortunately, it was too bulky for the space, which is right next to my husband's side of the bed. So we had to buy a new toddler bed, which we did figuring that at some point it is very likely that we will have both little girls in toddler beds at the same time.
So Wednesday evening we bought another toddler bed (we already had 2 mattresses, one a crib-sized futon) and assembled it. However, it only has 1/2 rail. I was paranoid the entire night that she would fall out--with the added concern that my husband would step on her in the night!! Periodically, I would wake up and scoot her legs back on the bed. Twice, I found her kneeling on the body pillow I put on the floor with her head on the bed, soundly asleep. Then it happened: clunk--waaaaaah! She was still mostly asleep, but she was on the floor, legs on the body pillow, head just a little bit under our bed, which is a platform bed. She couldn't go too far, because unfortunately, the under-bed area is storage (contrary to the effect of a platform bed, which is clean and sleek). Her brother never fell out of his toddler bed (and he moved into the toddler bed much earlier, since he didn't really have a crib, just a large Pack-n-play with a mattress), but he might have been a calmer sleeper!! So I scooped her off the floor, comforted her & tucked her back in. My husband can be an extraordinarily sound sleeper. The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, except that brother had a rare nosebleed and wound up sleeping on the futon in the living room to avoid climbing up & down his ladder if it should recur.
Now, the toddler is quite taken with the toddler bed--with both of them, actually, or any bed that she can climb into and cover herself. So yesterday, she was playing in it and decided to put her covers over her head. I'm not sure exactly what happened--it happened too fast--but somehow her mouth met with the wooden backboard, resulting in a pretty badly busted lip, a miserable toddler, and a lot of blood. And when she gets hurt, she most emphatically does not want to have it looked at or tended to. I managed a wet rag with an ice cube in her mouth for about 5 non-consecutive seconds, but that's it. Eventually, she settled down and fell asleep. I had to scoot her legs back on the bed a couple of times, but she didn't fall off during her nap.
Last night, she stayed relatively still. I scooted her legs in the bed once or twice; she woke up once & climbed in bed with us for an hour or two; I put her back. Then, at about 6:40, I awoke and looked over in the bed--no toddler!! So I walked around, and there she was--on the body pillow, on the floor, curled up, fast asleep. My thought is that rather than falling out, she scooted out gradually without waking. I woke my husband & pointed to the empty bed, which surprised him, and the baby on the floor--right where he steps to get out of bed!
So now I'm trying to think of a solution to this. There are no bedrails designed to fit in so small a space. I'll likely have to make something, but I am, of course, concerned with safety. Something that velcros to the footboard and side rail, goes under the mattress and fastens on the other side should work. Hmmm. . .
Any suggestions?
So Wednesday evening we bought another toddler bed (we already had 2 mattresses, one a crib-sized futon) and assembled it. However, it only has 1/2 rail. I was paranoid the entire night that she would fall out--with the added concern that my husband would step on her in the night!! Periodically, I would wake up and scoot her legs back on the bed. Twice, I found her kneeling on the body pillow I put on the floor with her head on the bed, soundly asleep. Then it happened: clunk--waaaaaah! She was still mostly asleep, but she was on the floor, legs on the body pillow, head just a little bit under our bed, which is a platform bed. She couldn't go too far, because unfortunately, the under-bed area is storage (contrary to the effect of a platform bed, which is clean and sleek). Her brother never fell out of his toddler bed (and he moved into the toddler bed much earlier, since he didn't really have a crib, just a large Pack-n-play with a mattress), but he might have been a calmer sleeper!! So I scooped her off the floor, comforted her & tucked her back in. My husband can be an extraordinarily sound sleeper. The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, except that brother had a rare nosebleed and wound up sleeping on the futon in the living room to avoid climbing up & down his ladder if it should recur.
Now, the toddler is quite taken with the toddler bed--with both of them, actually, or any bed that she can climb into and cover herself. So yesterday, she was playing in it and decided to put her covers over her head. I'm not sure exactly what happened--it happened too fast--but somehow her mouth met with the wooden backboard, resulting in a pretty badly busted lip, a miserable toddler, and a lot of blood. And when she gets hurt, she most emphatically does not want to have it looked at or tended to. I managed a wet rag with an ice cube in her mouth for about 5 non-consecutive seconds, but that's it. Eventually, she settled down and fell asleep. I had to scoot her legs back on the bed a couple of times, but she didn't fall off during her nap.
Last night, she stayed relatively still. I scooted her legs in the bed once or twice; she woke up once & climbed in bed with us for an hour or two; I put her back. Then, at about 6:40, I awoke and looked over in the bed--no toddler!! So I walked around, and there she was--on the body pillow, on the floor, curled up, fast asleep. My thought is that rather than falling out, she scooted out gradually without waking. I woke my husband & pointed to the empty bed, which surprised him, and the baby on the floor--right where he steps to get out of bed!
So now I'm trying to think of a solution to this. There are no bedrails designed to fit in so small a space. I'll likely have to make something, but I am, of course, concerned with safety. Something that velcros to the footboard and side rail, goes under the mattress and fastens on the other side should work. Hmmm. . .
Any suggestions?
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Crazy, Weird Book Quiz
Courtesy of Entropy, who tagged me, and without whom I would have no posts this week! ;) This quiz IS very much like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, and is an interesting way to keep yourself busy on the internet! So if you're bored, or procrastinating (have I mentioned that I start teaching again on Tuesday??), feel free to play along! I would particularly like Chris to try this one 6 or 7 times! ;)
Some various results:
Never read this one, actually. Animal allegories aren't really my thing. Or books that masquerade as children's books but are really something else. Or maybe I'm just closed minded. A lot of people I know liked this book, but a lot hated it, too. . .
I am a bit embarrassed by this one. I believe I have long since discarded my copy with the very personal marks in the margins. Another that I read in high school. And reread. And reread again. And dressed like the main character for Halloween. And identified with this book. And finally realized that I had gotten everything out of it that I possibly could, and let it go. Though I never believed in the whole "goddess worship" thing, I was absorbed enough to wish that the alternate religion were real. The book fed into my disgust with Christianity and perpetuated it. Besides that there were a lot of juicy sex scenes. *sigh* My depraved youth. . .
And, taking the test one more time:
What I find interesting here is that my results seem fairly firmly 20th century. Perhaps all of the results are. . . Well, at least there are 2 Modernists, here! And no Virginia Woolf!
Thanks, Entropy, for the fun! ;)
Some various results:
Never read this one, actually. Animal allegories aren't really my thing. Or books that masquerade as children's books but are really something else. Or maybe I'm just closed minded. A lot of people I know liked this book, but a lot hated it, too. . .
You're Watership Down!
by Richard Adams
Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Cry, the Beloved Country!
by Alan Paton
Life is exceedingly difficult right now, especially when you put more
miles between yourself and your hometown. But with all sorts of personal and profound
convictions, you are able to keep a level head and still try to help folks, no matter
how much they harm you. You walk through a land of natural beauty and daily horror. In
the end, far too much is a matter of black and white.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Adventures of Huckleberry Finn!
by Mark Twain
With an affinity for floating down the river, you see things in black
and white. The world is strange and new to you and the more you learn about it, the less
it makes sense. You probably speak with an accent and others have a hard time
understanding you and an even harder time taking you seriously. Nevertheless, your
adventurous spirit is admirable. You really like straw hats.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
I am a bit embarrassed by this one. I believe I have long since discarded my copy with the very personal marks in the margins. Another that I read in high school. And reread. And reread again. And dressed like the main character for Halloween. And identified with this book. And finally realized that I had gotten everything out of it that I possibly could, and let it go. Though I never believed in the whole "goddess worship" thing, I was absorbed enough to wish that the alternate religion were real. The book fed into my disgust with Christianity and perpetuated it. Besides that there were a lot of juicy sex scenes. *sigh* My depraved youth. . .
You're The Mists of Avalon!
by Marion Zimmer Bradley
You're obsessed with Camelot in all its forms, from Arthurian legend
to the Kennedy administration. Your favorite movie from childhood was "The Sword in
the Stone". But more than tales of wizardry and Cuban missiles, you've focused on
women. You know that they truly hold all the power. You always wished you could meet
Jackie Kennedy.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Ulysses!
by James Joyce
Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
And, taking the test one more time:
You're Prufrock and Other Observations!
by T.S. Eliot
Though you are very short and often overshadowed, your voice is poetic
and lyrical. Dark and brooding, you see the world as a hopeless effort of people trying
to impress other people. Though you make reference to almost everything, you've really
heard enough about Michelangelo. You measure out your life with coffee spoons.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
I do love Eliot. Anyone else remember the Crash Test Dummies song, "Afternoons and Coffee Spoons"? When I worked at a coffee shop as an undergrad, I had a shirt advertising the coffee shop (and probably commemorating an anniversary) with the quote "I heave measured out my life with coffee spoons." Only they misquoted it as, "measured out my life in coffee spoons." So I corrected it. On the shirt. And wore it that way. (Geek!)
What I find interesting here is that my results seem fairly firmly 20th century. Perhaps all of the results are. . . Well, at least there are 2 Modernists, here! And no Virginia Woolf!
Thanks, Entropy, for the fun! ;)
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Personality Test
Once again, courtesy of Entropy:
Your personality type is INFP.
I haven't really ever done a formal one of these, though I've always been intrigued with the concept. I'm not surprised at all that I should come up fairly strongly introverted--less so than I used to be, actually, but still. . . I'm not sure I understand the rest of the classifications, but what I found on this site seems to pin me down pretty well.
Things that surprised me a bit:
Your personality type is INFP.
| Introverted (I) 71% | Extraverted (E) 29% |
| Intuitive (N) 95% | Sensing (S) 5% |
| Feeling (F) 55% | Thinking (T) 45% |
| Perceiving (P) 82% | Judging (J) 18% |
I haven't really ever done a formal one of these, though I've always been intrigued with the concept. I'm not surprised at all that I should come up fairly strongly introverted--less so than I used to be, actually, but still. . . I'm not sure I understand the rest of the classifications, but what I found on this site seems to pin me down pretty well.
Things that surprised me a bit:
- being "driven to do something meaningful and purposeful"--after all, if that were the case, wouldn't I be a doctor or something? But I've said before that on some level, I do think that what I do is important. "Meaningful and purposeful" can be what you make it, right?
- "warmly interested in people" (are introverts interested in people??)--but I think I vary. Sometimes I think that the reason I distance myself from people is because of my capacity to become too involved. I am interested in people in practice, individual by individual, and though I claim not to be interested in people more generally, the whole theory behind my dissertation has to do with people and how they engage with texts and how the way they engage with texts helps them develop as people. Ummm. . . yeah. . . kind of demonstrates the "meaningful and purposeful" thing--my dissertation validates what I do. THAT's not self-serving at all!!
- "service oriented, usually putting the needs of others above their own"--I can see how I might do the latter, but I never considered that that implies the former. And really, I feel like I only put the needs of others above my own in cases when my "loyalty and devotion to people" comes into play. But I guess that's to be expected, no?
- "Flexible and laid back, unless a ruling principle is violated"--enough said. Has anyone here mistaken me for "flexible and laid back"?
- "Prefer to work alone"--However, that's not to say that I don't get inspiration from feeding off of the conversation and ideas of others. That's the nice thing about teaching sometimes, and something I miss about coursework is constant stimulating conversation (depending, of course, on the class!). I do better in terms of dissertation work when I do have regular meetings with my adviser, but I only really seek the input of a few trusted and respected people, and easily disregard the input of people whose opinions I don't respect. That's why conferences don't do much for me, I guess. I know I've just marked myself as a total elitist snob. Let's just chalk it up to the personality type, shall we?
- "Value deep and authentic relationships"--enough said. Or maybe not. How does one know a "deep and authentic relationship" outside of a spouse?
- I'm "out of the mainstream" alright. In fact, I'm out of several mainstreams. In fact, if you find a "mainstream" that you think I might fit into, I'm sure to find an exception. Basically, I have the unique talent of being able to p*ss off people on both sides of the spectrum!!
- I will be happiest in a career that allows me to "live my life in accordance with my values." So if you find one, will you let me know?
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