The Politics of Baby Dolls

I was thinking--why is it that little children sleep with baby dolls? Don't they know that sleeping with babies is dangerous? Pillows and covers and parental warmth & such increase the risk of suffocation, and we should take the baby dolls away from the little ones at bedtime so that they learn this important lesson about child care--after all, that's what playing with dollies is all about. Right?

I started thinking about this as my toddler, who has Christened her baby doll "Baby B. . ." (named for her sister), made a playhouse out of my cardboard cutting board and filled it with pillows, then snuggled down with "Baby B. . ." There is a lot of banter out there about children's toys and gender rolls. I didn't withhold baby dolls from my son, he just wasn't interested. And even for Doodle, Buzz Lightyear and Pokemon get equal time with the dollies, not to mention Legos and blocks. Am I an irresponsible academic parent if I admit that the issue doesn't interest me at all? That I played with Barbies and wasn't even remotely traumatized by it? That I want Barbie to have a big bust and small waist like she used to because she looks better that way? (Just don't get me started on Bratz and Disney Princesses--ugh!)

Anyway, I was thinking "Awwww, she must be thinking about how [Chiclette] sleeps with us sometimes!" But well, sleeping with baby dolls is pretty universal, no? It seems to give the same kind of comfort as a stuffed animal, according to the child's preference, regardless of the sleeping arrangements of the child's family, and no one really questions when a child plays with a stuffed animal. So should we accept that an anthropomorphic toy, identifiable with the most vulnerable stage of the species, offers equal comfort to a small child as a cuddly bunny rabbit? There is a case to be made that caring for the dolly is modeled behavior, possibly gendered, maybe socially conditioned--I can talk the talk, you know (also learned behavior). But what about cuddling? Is that learned or instinctual? Yes--the child learns to display affection based on the affection shown to him or her. But beyond that? What about the object that is chosen as suitable for cuddling? (Doodle's preferences change nightly, daily, hourly. . .)

Consider this: Children's preferences for toys to cuddle are impulsive, subject to a myriad of whims, learning opportunities and emotional variations that as adults we have left behind and so can't even begin to understand. Yet, children see the image of a baby as equally cuddly and comforting as, say, a puppy dog. And yet there are adults who would see no contradiction in considering a dog a more fitting, loving, desirable, and comforting companion than a baby. Might we learn something in this area from our children? That while we care for our children, and they depend on us, they are also a source of comfort for us. We hope in and because of them. We feel ourselves to be loved by them, and fulfill ourselves in loving them. The same could be said to apply to moms or dads, if the truth were known.

I'm sure by now everyone is aware of the unfortunate, horrific story out of Austria about the girl who was kept by her father in an underground bunker, repeatedly raped, abused, impregnated. Most of the emphasis has--rightly, I think--been on the inconceivable (to most) evil of the man's actions. But in all of the discussion and coverage, I was amazed at the strength of the woman, to have survived all of the abuse, in the most seemingly hopeless of circumstances. Why did she not give up? Why did she continue to exist? And how did she endure repeated pregnancies stemming from that abuse? Think of the two most oft-cited reasons for permitting abortion: rape and incest. Both present in this case. But we have no evidence that she resented her poor children--trapped in the dungeon-apartment as she was. I am certain that she had to have clung to a faith in God, first of all. But I also feel certain that her children were an unimaginable comfort--that she clung to them instinctively as the only source of love in her dark world.

When the Babies Decide LIfe is Too Boring. . .

--The infant hits the 6 month mark and wants to nurse every 45 minutes one day after only nursing 4 or 5 times the previous few days. . .

--The baby who slept through the night since she was WEEKS old decides to compete with the toddler who has almost ALWAYS joined Momma & Daddy by crying and wanting to nurse 2 or 3 times a night(!). . .

--The toddler, who was potty training admirably and treated every store as the potential locale for an exciting adventure to the bathroom has decided that her bottom can never touch a commercial toilet again--and arches her back and cries to support this theory (having just asked to use the bathroom). . .

*sigh*

Another Pro-Life Post

"The greatest act of evil was the murder of the second person of the Blessed Trinity. But this greatest act of evil wad turned to the greatest good."--Fr. Tom Euteneuer, president of Human Life International, in a homily on EWTN on the feast of St. Isadore, about the importance of the Cross to Christianity

It's been haunting me lately. It's always all around us--the problem, the "issue" of abortion. I want it to Go. Away. I'm weary, weary, weary of thinking about it. Worrying about it. Visualizing it. Being sad. Being emotionally involved with it. And this is not to say that I want to stop worrying, because it's obvious--I have choice when it comes to my own emotions. Clearly I could choose to stop worrying about it and being emotionally caught up in the wrong--wrong--wrong rhetoric in favor of abortion, but to do so would be to go against all of my moral principles. I used to feel as though the issue was very much removed from me. After all, I knew that I would never, no matter the circumstances, choose to have an abortion. And what others did, well, that was subject to their own beliefs, right? I think in part I did not realize that abortion was so hugely important to some people. I was appalled by the news of anti-abortion activists committing murder. I wasn't sure that something that was a moral question could be enforced by law. I didn't think that I should be paying for what was obviously someone else's immoral choice, but I just didn't see that it impacted me otherwise. I have always felt that abortion was an act of desperation, and so didn't want to judge women who were in such a horrible state that they would consider what must seem like a grievous evil to anyone, right? I'm not so sure anymore that abortion is always considered regrettable, unless the testimonies I have heard are not genuine, but to say that someone might be misled in their choices, not capable of making the choice, misrepresenting their feelings about the choice, etc., etc., is implying all sorts of bad things about the individuals involved. So, believing their own testimony, I have come to see that abortion can indeed be a very casual choice to some. And this saddens me. It was a gradual conversion of the heart to move from "always regrettable, but. . ." to "always regrettable and shouldn't happen--ever."

Someone who is tired, tired, tired of being emotionally involved in pro-choice/pro-abortion arguments (and I don't think the two are necessarily the same, as I was not "pro-abortion" when I considered myself "pro-choice by default"--though they frequently are, as in my examples below) has no business being on the internet. At all. And 'lest anyone get their knickers in a bunch, I don't (unfortunately) see the "right" to abortion being taken away, or a certain court interpretation being overturned. I think anything we can do must be done culturally rather than politically. Save not supporting politically those who believe that abortion is an inalienable right. 'Cause it's not. Even "choice" is a better term than "right," though I suppose it comes to the same thing, inevitably. But I am on the internet, too often for my own good. And I stumble across and into things that hurt and upset me.

Last week, for example, I was first discovering the new blog I've been mentioning, Stuff Christians Like. I took a look at a post about being honest in pre-marital counseling about one's past sins. It kind of throws into sharp relief the beauty of Catholicism's teaching about sexuality. Like, ummm, what part of "never outside of marriage" did you not understand? Meanwhile, poor Protestants find themselves able to stumble around and make their own theological justifications for this or that sexual encounter. Not all do, but it is something that can happen. And as many of the comments on the post imply, that causes hurt--to more than oneself. My first impression of the post about confessing one's past sins to one's spouse was, "Hey! This is exactly how Catholics feel about Confession! Cool! This is an opportunity to explain the concept to some who might misunderstand--as I did when I was not Catholic!" Well, that part of my comment was never addressed, and the comments devolved into a discussion of the evils of abstinence-only education and, finally, an overt pro-choice/pro-abortion statement, which I answered only by saying (in a nutshell), "No, not all Christians think that abortion should be permitted in cases of rape and incest," "Some arguments can't be won, but we could at least try to listen to one another," and "Where there is Life, there is Hope." Although I was restrained, I am always the most disturbed by so-called Christian justifications of abortion. In this case, the commenter who led the thread astray said, "My God has a plan and a will and it's bigger than doctors and lawyers and scary teachers waiting to seduce your children into satans arms (or whatever)."

Well, I put off addressing this until my daughter turned on the TV this morning, which was on EWTN and happened to be in the middle of the homily quoted above. And well, doesn't that say it all? The fact that God can turn an evil act to his own purpose and make of it the greatest possible good does not make the initial act any less evil. Free will and God's omniscience play into this, too: While God knows what choices we will make, He does not endorse our wrong choices, and we are free to make them--just as we are ultimately free to reject Him, though He desires our love. I was reminded of Tolkien's discussion of the great song of the Valar with Illuvatar in the beginning of time, in which the Valar were co-creators, along with Illuvatar of what would be Middle Earth, without realizing the significance of the song they were helping to create. Melkor would try to introduce discordant melodies, but each time, Illuvatar would weave the discord into ever greater and more beautiful melodies. God does not endorse evil; rather, He supersedes it and sanctifies it by His Grace and what wonders he works after, out of, and upon it.

Case two that I wish to mention is Sitemeter. I would be much better if I would just remove it from my sidebar. You see, many, many people find my site while doing Google searches relating to being pregnant in Grad School. That, as I see it, is likely a good thing. But they also find the Berkeley Parenting Network. Most often, they find the thread relating to terminating a pregnancy because one is in grad school. They find advice like the following:

• Remember, though, that you made that choice because you're a responsible parent who wanted to make sure your two existing children received the attention and support they're entitled to, as well as ease any blows to the marriage from the stress of the an additional pregnancy and new baby. I had the same experience. Two wonderful little children and I got pregnant with a 3rd. At the time, my second was a terror---- tempermental to the max. It was very demanding, emotionally. I didn't want #2 to become an ignored, middle child and make my future life more miserable, due to lack of attention from child #3. I chose abortion.
• Just because everyone else is having 3 kids doesn't mean you have to, too. There seems to be a bit of peer pressure/keeping up with the Joneses to have 3 kids. Pro-choice isn't just for non-marrieds
• I had an abortion earlier this year-- totally the right decision for our family (we decided long ago to only have one)
• I'm not in your situation but I felt that I needed to respond because I remember that aching. I have always wanted children. I got pregnant when I was 20 and felt very connected to that child. I new it would be a girl, I knew what she would look like. I was in a stupid relationship and really felt that I had no option but to terminate the pregnancy. I am now in my 30s with a wonderful toddler.
• I commend you in taking consideration all the consequences of bringing another into your family. I beleive it is a wholeheartedly selfless act on your part to want to maintain the preservation of your household and family by not adding to it. Bringing a child into this world should always warrant such consideration--everyone should want their children to be raised in optimal conditions

"Safe, legal, and rare"? I think not!

I debated about quoting these. However, they are on a public forum, searchable through Google. I will not post a link. I also think it is a crime that this is the second or third hit that someone gets when searching for information about pregnancy in grad school--depending on the search terms entered. So while I realize that I am offending the sensibilities of some, I feel the need to offer some contradiction to these sentiments.

What tore me apart were the mothers who have 2 children--or any children, really--who have chosen to kill a child because of the other children. Not wanting the second to be a "middle" child? My God! What if I had felt this way??? I struggled with these concerns, too. Not wanting her to be jealous, resentful, etc. But when abortion is not a "choice" that's even on the radar, you have to accept the situation and work within it! And what about the other children, those children whose welfare was the determining factor in the elimination of their sibling(s)? Their families have been deprived of the moments when they show their tender affection to their siblings, loving , learning and playing with and alongside them, yes. But I wonder about something else. . .

When a pro-choice mother teaches her child about abortion as a valid choice, does she share her own experience? And what does her child think? Does s/he think that could have been me? Glad I was the one Mommy wanted? Am I the reason I don't have a younger sibling? I have wondered about this for some time. Unless the fact is hidden from the children, which is probably preferable. But one can't hide something and pretend it's no big deal, even to oneself. Admittedly, not everyone thinks it's no big deal to have or to have had an abortion. But some do. And they shouldn't.

I think I need comments off for this one. I had to get that off of my chest so I could stop composing it in my head, but I don't need to be checking back obsessively. In fact, I might take a blogging holiday and edit my dissertation. Or read a book. See you in a week or so.

My Kids are Night People

I was poking around the Stuff Christians Like blog and read a post about taking a trip to Narnia. Sounds innocent enough. I have a bit of a history with Narnia myself, including my sole scholarly publication to date (which, apparently, was reprinted recently). But I was struck by the following:

I'd probably get stuck in the wardrobe next to a baby. It'd be crying and wiping its nose on all the fur coats that are in there. I'd want to say what I am always tempted to exclaim when I see a family in Venice with an infant strapped to their stomach like a deer on a roof rack, "Look, this baby could be going to Wal-Mart for all it knows. Why bring it Narnia?"

The implication seemed to be to leave the kids at home because they wouldn't appreciate being taken anywhere anyway--particularly someplace with aesthetic, historical, or adult appeal. (Except that, well, this is Narnia, and not Venice. . .) Predictably, I took issue with this:

Ummm... Can I just say... OUCH!! Uh, shoulda left the baby with grandma?

I don't mean to be harsh, but is it because the baby won't get anything out of it (aside from being with its parents, that is) or that it will ruin someone else's enjoyment? Though I feel certain that C. S. Lewis would have shared this view of infants. Tolkien, not so much...

The blog author clarified:

I guess it's more of a statement about whenever parents drag kids places. Like to the movies at midnight or to barnes and noble at ten PM. I guess I am overly sensitive to when I see some kid that can't form a sentence crying because it's four hours passed his bedtime and the parents are essentially like, "Calm down kid. Yes we decided to have a baby but that shouldn't really impact our lives." I was trying, poorly I might add, to make a statement about treating kids like accessories.

I'm totally on board with this, but believe that children can be very portable, if the parents respect their needs, schedules, temperaments, etc. I also said that my children tend go to bed after 10, just by way of saying that that's not always an irresponsible parenting move. I didn't mean to start the thread that followed:

1)Our kids (4 and 2) go to bed at 7. I get home from work at 4:30 so we're still able to get some kid time in. It's the only way my wife and I can get a few hours together too. But different folks have found their own way to do it for certain. I'm by no means the parent police.

2)Jon, Your children probably go to bed about the same time as my daughter does. This is only frowned upon because in London, England your 7pm is probably our 11pm. But it is nice to know that when I'm getting my angel to sleep you are doing the same! lol

3) (my favorite) I was out shopping the other night at 9pm and there were kids all throughout the store melting down. My kids were tucked away in bed with daddy at home. I assumed it was the product of single parents trying to make life work in an imperfect situation.

Parents are opinionated. We know that. And too often any decision that is different from one's own is frowned upon, which is not so bad as when a statement of one's own parenting choices or style is taken as an implicit critique of the way others do things. So not to critique, because putting kids to bed early is easily the norm, and I totally understand the justification for doing so (spending time with one's spouse, or oneself!), I've gotta say that my babies have started out night people and have pretty much maintained that trend unchecked by me. Which means that they are less cranky at 11 P.M. than they are around nap time. I've always felt that it was just a natural part of nursing on demand to let them take naps and go to bed on their own schedules. And my babies seemed to adjust to my schedule of waking and sleeping while in utero, and after they were born, they seemed to go to bed around the time I did while pregnant (and do normally)--between 11 P.M. and 1 A.M. This is when Chiclette currently goes to sleep, though the past few nights she has seemed to want to go to bed for the night earlier--about 10 or 10:30. If I put her to sleep any earlier, she thinks it's a nap and wakes up in an hour or two. The other issue--even with Doodle--is that if I want them to sleep to 8 or (even better) 9 A.M., I need to put them to bed later rather than earlier. Now, bedtime gets earlier as they get older and less dependent on nursing frequently (as Chiclette's schedule indicates), but even my oldest has never really gone to bed earlier than 10 P.M. This means that "us" time is generally "all of us" time--at least, unless the babies go to bed closer to 11 than to 1. (Doodle is almost always in bed by midnight.) But it's pretty much always been like that. And it's never hurt our relationship. There are advantages to having children early--children feel like less of an intrusion when they've been a natural part of the family from the beginning. When do I get things done? Whenever. Whenever I'm not procrastinating. You pretty much learn how to do things when you can! I'm a very "play it by ear" kind of parent (my mom's phrase). I don't do fixed schedules. At least, not fixed schedules that we predetermine without letting them evolve naturally. And yet, my children don't seem to suffer from lack of structure. There are boundaries. I do wonder sometimes if we're the only crazy parents whose children don't go to bed between 7:30 and 9. I went to bed at 8:30 or 9 when I was young, but not all of my siblings had to do that. It is possible that Doodle and Chiclette will go to bed closer to 9 by the time they are in Kindergarten. Who knows? But even if we are the only crazy parents who do it like this, I'm okay with being crazy. I'm a total weirdo. I know it.

But really, isn't this kind of flexibility necessary for "ecological" or "on demand" breastfeeding? And you can't really be draconian with an infant or toddler if you let them set the schedule from the beginning, can you?

The Problem with Sola Scriptura?

Is apparently the neverending attempt to make the Bible "accessible," since everyone's got to read & interpret it for him or herself. That's not to say that everyone should not read/interpret it for him or herself, but that the accessibility issue--not to mention the making Jesus hip and fun issue--can be problematic, like when meanings are represented are unambiguous, but are essentially someone else's unambiguous interpretations (read mediation) masquerading as the real thing. Personally, I don't think a footnote is out of line, especially one that explains the translator's rationale. And having an orthodox interpretation is comforting--it eliminates the "anything goes" of Bible reading/study. On the whole, though I like this site. It's a tongue-in-cheek guide to quirky Protestantisms--written by a quirky Protestant. It's nice to see these guys laughing at themselves. It makes me laugh rather than criticize (well, mostly), and that might just help promote mutual understanding.

P.S.--I found Stuff Christians Like through a link from great Catholic blogging endeavor--Stuff Catholics Like. Check it out! It's a group effort by some of your favorite Catholic bloggers!

Catholic Carnival 172

The Catholic Carnival is a collection of posts from various Catholic bloggers arranged by a host blogger. You probably know this, but it took me a while to figure it out, so I thought I'd give a definition! Sarah introduced me to the concept, and because she so often solicits submissions and gets excited about the results! So I submitted my mommy-reflections from a while back. And it was a super-colossal Catholic Carnival this week, hosted by the Organ-ic Chemist, with 26 submissions! (Mine is down near the bottom. . . Apparently, I was the third person to submit! Go figure. . .) Here is what the Organ-ic Chemist has to say:

Naturally, there was a wide variety of different topics, but there were some definite themes: Pentecost, Mother's Day, First Communion, Confirmation, book and movie reviews ... you name it, it's in there.

It's been a busy season liturgically speaking, with holidays sprinkled about, too! So go, read, enjoy! :)

Happy Mother's Day!--Updated

To all Moms!

My post yesterday was brief; I stayed away from the computer for the most part. I had a very pleasant day. I woke up for Mass and my husband was making biscuits. R.E. is finished for the year, so my son doesn't have to get up early & go before Mass, so he was happy to sleep in. I had some coffee & got ready myself, and we weren't even late!! During Mass, Doodle was quieter and more patient that usual. I think her behavior is getting better as she is able to communicate bette--perhaps she's past the toddler learning curve of frustration with the discrepancies between what she wants to do/say and what she is able to do/say. Today she told her sister, "Oh baby, I love you." That was a first! She's never said that to anyone!

I always enjoy Pentacost. Confirmation was a very exciting part of the Sacraments of Initiation for me. There were so many things that I didn't really understand before I was Catholic--the Holy Spirit was one. So it was a special treat that Mother's Day fell on Pentacost Sunday this year. The readings were wonderful and the homily was very good, too. However, it had to do with the deacon's grandmother, in part, and her sewing. She collected every fabric scrap she encountered in a pillow case, which to her was something unified, with every bit as important as every other bit, though to Deacon "Fred", they were just scraps. Eventually she made a quilt from the scraps, and the unity and importance of the pieces was apparent to him, as it had always been to her. A nice, and unusual, metaphor for the Church. Of course, I have been sewing. And because I have been sewing, my mind was playing with the scrap-bag quilt idea, thinking about what scraps I have, wondering how all of her scraps could have looked nice together in a quilt, wishing I could see the quilt, wondering what kind of a quilt it was, remembering my aunt and grandmother each making a rag rug. Yeah, I was distracted. That's the problem with interesting homilies sometimes. My mind had been wandering a bit anyway. You see, our pastor had requested that everyone wear red to celebrate Pentacost, but we really didn't have any red clothing that was Mass-appropriate. Then, Chiclette needed to nurse at the beginning of Mass. So I was thinking about my purple nursing cover: Hmmm. . . Purple. Lent & Advent. Too bad it's not red! Hey! I should make a nursing cover for each liturgical season! But not of satiny fabric. No, it wouldn't breathe and would get too dirty. I should market these on a Catholic web site! Or maybe eBay. Naaaah. I could just make them for myself. Maybe I could make them reversible. But I couldn't pair red and green. No, too Christmas-y. So red could be with purple, green with white, yadda yadda yadda. This punctuated by hard blinks and reorientation of my attention to what was actually going on. And yet, I was paying attention. Really! I promise!! And all of this started before the homily about scraps & quilts. *sigh* It was a very nice Mass, and a very good homily about one's gifts and talents, and the different gifts each of us are given.

Afterwards, we avoided the "fancy restaurants," which we tend to do on big "eating out" days--Valentine's, for example. Instead, we went to our favorite pizza buffet, which was quite satisfying! We bopped around Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought a couple of fun things. Then, we came home, put the girls down for naps, and my husband stared preparing the grill to cook a pork loin that he had marinated the night before with his own version of Jamaican Jerk seasoning--a favorite of mine. Yum! My son played video games and I cut out a pattern to make myself a pair of shorts and a jacket. Saturday I had finished a top for myself that was actually a "trial" of sorts, but wearable. So I am gaining confidence in my ability to sew clothing. Most of my previous projects for myself have been very limited successes. Or failures. Smme have definitely been failures. The pork took a long time to cook, but at the end of the cooking, I boiled some red potatoes, made a sauce from the marinade, and steamed some veggies in the microwave. Everything was delicious!!

My family gave me a case for sewing supplies for Mother's Day, which was nice. It was just one of those days when everything is pleasant, which is a gift in itself!

My mom's day was not so good. She has been having some health problems that the doctors aren't willing to treat, really. So by the evening, when I was planning to call her, she wasn't feeling good enough to talk. And she didn't get the chance to visit her mother, either. Hopefully she is better today, and will be able to visit my grandmother soon. One brother, two sisters and I sent her a box of goodies that she should get tomorrow or Wednesday, including the newest (PBS) version of Sense and Sensibility, which I know she will love. I have not seen it yet, but Jay says it's good! So I know that some time during the week she will have a happy surprise.

All the best to all of you who are mothers, who will be or want to be mothers, and to all of your mothers, too! :)

Thoughts on a Nursing Home Visit. . .

I just spoke to my mother, who is gearing up for a visit to my grandmother, who has been in a care facility for probably a year and a half now. She had been having some problems with slipping in and out of consciousness in the sense that she was technically conscious, but unaware of her actions and surroundings. She had recurring UTIs that worsened whatever was wrong in the first place, which doctors have yet to pinpoint--which doctors have stopped trying to pinpoint. They tell her children that "Mama is old." My aunts and uncle have come to believe that a radiation treatment on her eyes is to blame. I saw her during Hurricane Katrina, when I was 7 months pregnant with Doodle, and she was strong--sad, but strong. I saw her when Doodle was 6 months, and have pictures of her holding my older daughter--her second great-grandchild. She was having some hip problems, but was very much herself--though lonely, and sad. Praying her rosary on her porch when we drove up; she had thought that we wouldn't make it to see her before heading back to Texas, but I felt very strongly that she needed to see Doodle. The last time I saw her, I was very newly pregnant with Chiclette. She had been in the home for months by that point, but was in the ER after a fall and another UTI was discovered. After weeks of not seeming to recognize anyone, she was aware that we were coming to visit, and asked about us. She faded out once or twice while we were there, but for the most part, she was herself, only weak and sad. Not too weak to banter with the physical therapy people and give them a difficult time, and aware enough to express her humiliation and the pain it caused her. She asked my son about school, tried to get a shy Doodle to talk to her. On my way out, I told her that I was pregnant. She was so pleased & surprised. I wasn't used to the idea myself, but I thought it would be good to leave her with some hopeful news--something to look forward to. Returning home, I agonized about her care, which, I understood, was not too good. Her 6 surviving children (of 7) visit her daily, as they can. None of them know about me calling the nursing home to make sure she was taken the Eucharist regularly. It seemed like the only thing I could do. The woman I spoke to understood my concern, and knew what I meant when I said that I doubted that it would seem a priority to any of her family who were there. She had been taken out of Mass one day by one of my aunts, who was indignant that she had been in Mass in the first place. This did not surprise me, and it may have been that she should not have been out of her room. After all, they did not heed the sign that said that my grandmother was a "fall risk," and they let her fall, which was the immediate cause of her hospitalization the last time I saw her. . .

I have heard very little since then. I understand that she has varying levels of awareness from day to day, week to week, hour to hour. Very soon after I had my Chiclette (a week or two), someone printed a picture of me with both girls on my lap rocking them to sleep and brought it for her to see. She was aware enough to tell them to tell me that I was doing a good job. It wasn't just postpartum hormones that brought tears to my eyes. Since then, I have fished a bit to see if she was aware of the pictures I sent at Christmas, but no one will say. My mom will be taking new pictures of us to her tomorrow. My mom wants to print them out in poster size. I wish my grandmother could see my Chiclette in person. I want her to be aware. I pray for her to be aware. But when I asked about it, my mom remarked that she eats well sometimes, and has better days and worse days, but that my aunt thinks that her responses are automatic--that my grandmother has memorized what the correct responses are to certain questions and comments. Basically, that there is no consciousness or self awareness behind the responses at all. And how does she know this exactly? Is there anything to this assumption besides weariness and loss of hope from someone who has been bearing the weight of her mother's illness for going on two years now? Might there be some comfort in thinking that her mother is not aware of the bad things if she's not aware of the good? I see this as very dangerous thinking. The family has criticized my grandmother's doctor for waiting for her to die. Well, that's the feeling I get from this doubting of her awareness. And I am more apprehensive since I have no idea that there is any religious belief at all left in my extended family. I know that one aunt's MySpace page indicates that she considers herself agnostic. When I see "atheist" or "agnostic" listed on the profile of someone I care about, I feel a little spasm inside. My aunts & uncle fell away from Catholicism decades ago, though I'm sure there is an element of Christianity remaining for all of them in some corner of their consciousness. But then, I considered myself Christian for many years while embracing the notion that as long as I was "true to myself" (whatever that means) and vaguely ethical, I would be O.K. with God since he must be too busy to worry about me, right? That Christian-flavored-agnosticism made any manner of things O.K. And, well, I'm concerned with the implications of this line of thought for my grandmother. Christian-flavored-agnosticism does not view dignity of life issues in the way I have come to view them through Catholicism. Because really, that worldview is one without hope. And when you have no hope for the next life, one's comfort and awareness in this life is of ultimate value. If that is gone, then one's life is invalid.

I believe that my grandmother is conscious and aware on some level. I hope for her to be able to express this awareness. I pray for her patience and endurance and comfort. I would like, above all things, for the pictures of my family to allow her self to be manifest to those around her, so that they will know that she is still who she has always been.

Not a Baby Anymore. . .

This evening we were taken out for dinner by my brother, who proposed that we go to Olive Garden, as he had never been, then unexpectedly treated us all! We were seated at a round table--four of us in chairs, one high chair, and one "sling" to hold a baby carseat/carrier--in what felt to me like the middle of the way. As we had had an unusual amount of attention paid to us by other patrons one of the last times we were there, I was hoping for a more out-of-the way place, and even asked the hostess pointedly if this wasn't rather a high traffic area. She didn't bite. So we got settled--Doodle and Chiclette placed together for some odd reason. We had been sitting for a little while when a party of two elderly couples passed by to be seated. I heard a grandmotherly Texas drawl say, "Hang on a minute. I want to check out this little one!" (Chiclette was closest to the side on which they passed.) So she stooped to look at Chiclette and murmured some words about how cute she was while my husband & I smiled obligingly. Looking across the table, I caught sight of Doodle's face. Now she is a prettier-than-average toddler, though I say this with not a little maternal bias. She is frequently admired alongside Chiclette--if not before Chiclette!--when people trouble to admire either of them at all. So there was my pretty Doodle, looking at her sister, and looking at the woman, with a little shy smile and shining, smiling eyes. The woman made a parting remark to me about the baby being beautiful, then turned and walked away. Doodle's expectant eyes seemed to question, and then darken as her little spirit was let down after expecting a friendly word to be turned to her. I know it's a little thing, really. I don't want her to expect always to receive attention, by any means. But it was sad to see this realization in her sweet face--that she was not noticed. At all. A small hurt--but not small compared to her stature and her experience of the world. And it broke my heart. Then the breadsticks came.

If I did this Challenge. . .

. . . And I'm not saying I will. . .

Chris, bookworm extrordinaire, is always getting tangled in this web of book challenges over at his blog, Stuff As Dreams are Made On. It's a neat concept, much more attractive to me than the "community reading projects" you hear about from time to time--or the Oprah's Book Club kind of thing. For one thing, you don't get the impression that the people who start challenges have any hidden agenda other than to get other people to read what they want/like to read. In my discipline we get so caught up in balancing how much of what type of work and which kind of author and what social, political or intellectual currents, the whom-you-can't-leave-outs and the whom-you-should-really-includes according to this or that view go onto our various reading lists, from syllabi to prelim lists to works in papers and articles we write, etc., that I'm not sure we even know what it means to simply enjoy a work of literature anymore. Of course, this is a sweeping generalization, and so not entirely true, but you know what I mean. So I find this reading-blogging sub-culture is really cool. I want to get sucked into this level of enthusiasm. So Chris is currently doing one challenge (among many) that encourages people to read 10 books from a list of 1001 "must reads," thus making themselves 1% more well read. Certainly a noble cause. I could benefit from something like this, I think. So I perused the list. Many titles--er, most titles--are pretty unknown to me. And the ones I chose, I confess, are largely on my to read list anyway. And I'm not sure I can really do something like this--too many other things going on. But if I were to choose, and if cheating were permitted (that is, choosing with an eye to the "useful" or "things I planned to read anyway"), I would choose the following:

1) The Hours – Michael Cunningham
2) Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
3) The Name of the Rose – Umberto Eco
4) If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler – Italo Calvino
5) A Passage to India – E.M. Forster
6) Jacob’s Room – Virginia Woolf
7) Ulysses – James Joyce
8) Tono-Bungay – H.G. Wells
9) Ficciones – Jorge Luis Borges
10) The Book of Laughter and Forgetting – Milan Kundera

Only the last one is a complete unknown to me. Sounds intriguing, though. I want to keep my eye on these book challenges--and get motivated & excited & stuff!--and I actually signed up for real for a different challenge that I'm behind on, so I'll talk more about that soon! I've got an idea for a Lenten book challenge for next year--Catholic must-reads of various types: choose one book of apologetics, one of fiction, one encyclical. . . you get the idea! If you have suggestions, let me know!

New "About Me"

Thought I'd share my new self-description. The old one was getting stale...

Read it "Literacy chick" or "Literacy chic": I am a newly-minted-Ph.D.-packin' Orthodox Catholic Momma who reads sometimes, writes a lot, and thinks too much! My literary scholarship focuses on literacy: Does literacy affect consciousness? More importantly, do writers think that literacy affects consciousness? I love my husband and proudly wear his name (off-blog); I do my best to live the Catholic faith into which I was Baptized & Confirmed in October 2004. I am a Catholic academic, seeking what that means in my life. I believe that where there is life there is hope, and uphold Life on those grounds (and others). I think academics can afford to share many values with SAHMs, and I keep my children around whenever possible. I hold and express unapologetically many opinions of varying popularity, but what's a blog for, after all?

Sounds accurate, right? ;)

Dr. Literacy-Chic

You can still call me Literacy-chic, though! ;)

The defense was a short, friendly conversation--only an hour! I have some good suggestions for converting it to a book and many nice things were said. Now I have some serious sweets hanging around!

Immediate plans: Hit local restaurant where 2 of my siblings work for some celebratory dessert & wine--maybe an appetizer. I want a margarita, but I'm not sure about that level of alcohol while breastfeeding. . . My brother's the bartender, though, so we'll see what I might be able to work out! Maybe something 1/2 strength. :)

I feel happy, but most of the relief was after the draft was done. That was the BIG work. Now, I'm just feeling motivated for the future, which is a big thing for me!!

Thank you all so much for all of your thoughts & prayers! I appreciate having such supportive blog-friends!

Discovering my comfort foods. . .

I watch Food Network a lot. A Lot! One thing they like to talk about is so-called "comfort food"--usually mac 'n cheese, ice cream, chicken soup, spaghetti. I've wondered sometimes at the rationale for the designation, though ice cream is a given. Chicken soup = illness, so that too. When I think of favorite homey dishes that evoke family, I come up with chicken fricassee, dirty rice, seafood gumbo. Not thing that are easy to turn to for comfort, since I don't make them like my grandmother did. (My dirty rice isn't bad--and no, it's not like the stuff you get at Cajun restaurants!)

So finally, reality hit, and I've been trying to look over some articles, look over the dissertation, print the dissertation in all of its tree-killing immensity (that's the epithet). . . But things were a little crazy at home, and with all of the beginning-of-the-month, only-paid-once-a-month grocery shopping that we have done recently, we still needed some things. So I made a list and sent my husband to the store with the kiddos (but at the last minute the little one needed me). I looked over the list, and behold: comfort foods!

--ingredients for a 7-layer bean dip: beans, cheese, sour cream, guacamole, tomatoes, pico de gallo, salsa, tortilla chips

--cookies

--doughnuts

--frozen cooked shrimp with cocktail sauce (an appetizer of sorts for me!)

Even the things that I put on the list because we "needed" them are comfort foods for me:

--frozen cheese tortelloni (which we had for dinner with butter)

--frozen portabello mushroom raviolis (the store brand is scrumptious! and only $2.09! what a great supper! :) )

--frozen vegetables: broccoli, broccoli & cauliflower, peas (great with the cheese tortelloni for supper!)

The bean dip was too labor-intensive, but will be consumed in the near future! :)

So. . . Any favorite "real" comfort foods? Things not usually considered? (Pregnancy cravings aren't quite the same. They vary with pregnancy and usually don't last in my experience. But they're an interesting subject unto themselves!)

And for tomorrow: Water. Just water. 'Cause all that talking will make us thirsty! Thanks for all the supportive words!

Dissertation Defense Protocol

If I have not already communicated the fact that I can be an awfully socially awkward person in certain contexts, let me do so now. I dread the odd social gathering at someone's house, unless I know most of the people who are going to be there, and even then, it can be cause for some anxiety. We're talking non-academic, even. So this is not just the pressure of networking. Oh no. It's not being able to answer a query from a person I don't know that runs like this, "Hey, you know that cake you brought? Are we going to eat it or what? Can I cut it since you're busy breastfeeding?" with an honest, "I was waiting until everyone--namely me--was finished eating, and I'd prefer to cut it, but thank you for your offer!" instead of muttering a weak, "okay" and then brooding about it for the rest of the party. . .er. . . weekend. It's deciding not to go to the shower at all because two were scheduled for the same day and you RSVP'd to the one given for the person you knew well, but not as well. I take comfort in my committee chair's admission that there are times that he has entered a home for a gathering and proceeded straight through and right out the back door. That's so me. So what am I worried about with the upcoming dissertation defense? Refreshments. Yup, you read that correctly. Because I heard waaay back--and again today--that the defendee (person on the hot seat) usually brings snacks or breakfast or something in hopes that the committee members are too charmed by the offering--or too afraid of crumbs escaping their mouths--to ask any difficult questions. Or as a courtesy, maybe. That was all vague. Anyway, it's been months since I've had any meaningful face-to-face interaction with my committee chair department head, and while I have asked a couple of times in meaningful ways what is expected of me, he simply will not say "some koolaid and a tray of brownies." So I'm in agonies over which snack would be too childish, the politics of pastries, what about the vegetarian (and what are his reasons for being vegetarian--do they preclude icing?), would it seem like a bribe--and a weak one at that, is it rude to come empty handed? (Except for the dissertation--there is that. . .) And that is my primary source of anxiety. What snack (if any) to bring, and how my choice of snack reflects on me. Literacy-chic, you are an idiot.

How Do We Love Them?

Each time I have contemplated having another baby, the thought has struck me: how is it possible that I should love another child as much as I love this one? Each of my children has been an incredible--amazing!--emotional investment: all of the hopes, fears, worries, joyful moments, new experiences, anxieties. . . For years, I wasn't certain that I could have another baby and love him or her as much as I loved my son--fertility wasn't the issue, but love. The thought seemed strange. At the risk of sounding cliché, it was becoming Catholic that opened my mind to the possibility that I could, indeed, have another baby to love, with whom to share all of our family experiences--but that's another post. The same thoughts surfaced when I was pregnant for number three--I was still in the midst of the intense, anxious infant-to-toddler love; my son had had years of my love (and I had had years to love only him with wonderful and difficult mother-love) and seemed much more self-sufficient by the time his sister was born. But however many babies we have, there are always new things to be learned, and I've been thinking about how we love our growing families. . .

We love them all in their different ways--that seems obvious. Each has a different personality, different needs. But while that is true, there are ways that we love them that are the same--or similar--for each child, which nevertheless vary according to where we are with them at the time.

We love them in the midst of the group dynamic: When older brother is able to pick up the youngest, we smile to see his delicate manipulation of her soft floppiness. When he is able to negotiate the various compromises of toddler interaction to give Momma time to take a shower, we are grateful. And amid our exasperation from the noise and commotion it generates, we love to see his horseplay with the little sisters because of the affection it betrays. There is a communication between the baby and the toddler that is amazing to see. . . We love the nicknames that one bestows on the other. And the thrill that is apparent when little sister catches sight of her big sister reverberates through us, and we echo her joy.

We also love them in ways that are (st)age-appropriate: Babies, we adore. This is why we celebrate Christmas, no? That this instinctual love that humans are meant to feel for the smallest and most helpless of our race--the rapt emotional embrace that requires no act of our will--should be transferred to our Lord and Savior. We love them in our recognition of the newness of their actions and their experiences--in our observation of the novelty of their interactions with their senses, their bodies, their families, their worlds. Even amid sweet frustrations, we love their recognition of ourselves--who we are to them--and love their needs, which we alone fulfill. We love their cries and fussiness, and dwell on the sweet sounds that we know we can soothe, or else we love them with anxiety, holding them until their discomfort passes.

Toddlers, we love with tolerance and a sense of adventure. We love them with a wry twinkle, appreciating their cleverness as they demonstrate to us that we can't sneak anything past them--not an open door, not a single piece of chocolate. We love them when we follow their routines--never ever coming in the front door when we come home, but heading around the building to play by the porch. We love them when we "see down" to play with legos or blocks instead of doing that very important thing that we should be doing. And when we repeat with wonder that word or phrase that we've just heard for the first time, or smile at that thing that they shouldn't be doing but which is a very big accomplishment, we give them our love. By letting the baby cry or fuss just a little bit longer to attend to the needs of the toddler, we are loving them in a way that really matters. In every delicate frustration we endure--even if not so well--or turn into a rowdy game, in every single effort to divert attention from that one forbidden or harmful thing, we love them. We love them as we share our tasks with them, even if we can accomplish them better alone. We love them when we hold them like the babies they still are, enjoying their affection whenever it happens to present itself.

In all of their seeming independence and hidden vulnerability, we love our older ones--our "pre-teens," though that term is speeding them on to a stage they have not yet reached--in ways that are subtle, but special. It may mean popping in to comment on a particularly well-played cello piece, suggesting that something is not quite right with a certain note, or asking about the piece being played. In our attentions to what is important to them, we love them. It may mean listening--at least for a little while--to the narrative of "how I beat the last video game boss." We love them when we laugh at their jokes--even the really corny ones. We love them when we accept the help they give us rather than dwelling on the help that was not given. We love them when we answer their questions honestly and carefully, giving neither too much information, nor too little. We love them by walking beside them sometimes, not always in front.

We love them all by remembering all of the ways we love them, as often as possible.

Not Teaching Sci Fi

The class didn't make--probably because History decided to schedule ALL of their summer courses at the same time as the Sci Fi. So FOUR of our summer classes didn't make. But that's okay. I'll be teaching another of my favorite "not really considered literature" genres: children's lit. And this will be REALLY fun, since many who are taking it will be doing so as part of their Education degrees--but I plan to teach it as literature, with theory & everything. ;)

Here are the texts:

The Norton Anthology of Children's Literature

Considering Children's Literature: A Reader

The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznik

Answering My Own Question. . .

I'm home on a Sunday morning with my girls because the younger of the two was running a slight fever this morning (99.5 or so) and has a runny nose. :( So I thought I would report my findings. . . There are indeed places to get cool European and Japanese, good quality fabrics online (as I knew there had to be), it's just a matter of typing the right search terms into Google. Some can be found on eBay as well. So here's a list of cool online fabric retailers:

Hart's Fabric

Bunte Fabrics

Sew Euro

Fabric Hound

Reprodepot Fabrics

Maybe one day I'll get around to ordering some!! And then using it!! (And of course, I'll go to a 5 or 7 PM Mass. . .)

Where Do You Find the Fabric???

I've been doing a lot of sewing lately. I made two dresses for Chiclette, one for Doodle, dug out lots of patters, I have a cute top cut out for myself, piles of fabric everywhere--you get the basic idea. I have still been doing other things--I went to my department 3 times for meetings this week and once to pick up the unsold blanket (green) that my Doodle promptly claimed as her very own (though she took it off of her bed to cover her little sister before we left the house this afternoon!). I need to revise some handouts for next week, revise a dissertation abstract and conclude a conclusion. Sewing is for when I need to de-stress or be creative. So doing a little bit of non-productive web searching earlier, I discovered the most incredible magazine with oodles of patterns in every issue! It's called Ottobre and is published in Finland. The clothing design is really amazing. If I could sew all of the time, I would have no need to buy clothes for myself or the girls again--ever. That is, if I could find good fabric!! Because the styles are fashionable, but there's no matching the quality of fabrics that the better manufacturers can get their hand on. At least, not that I've found. Please, if someone knows something I don't, let me know!!!!

Academic Moms & Tenure Track Jobs

Hat tip: Kate

A study out of Utah revealed recently that female professors are less likely than their professional counterparts to have children. This is hardly surprising to someone who has been in a graduate program and known a number of female academics who, for whatever reason, have decided not to have children or have delayed that decision indefinitely. I have been fortunate to be in a department full of professor-moms and even more fortunate, lately, to be in a department full of grad student moms (though this was late in coming--I was the only grad student mom in the department for quite some time!! It's nice to have company. . .) The blog that mentions this study also mentions that UC Berkley is doing something to try to address the issue of continued gender inequity in academia--the basic fact that while being married with children seems to be an asset of sorts to male success in academia (or at least a reflection of--like sowing the academic oats has a biological counterpart*), the reverse is true for women. More women who achieve tenure have fewer children, no children, and have children later, while women who have children earlier tend to drop off of the tenure-track, choosing instead to work in adjunct and lecturer-type positions. Tenured women are also more likely to be divorced, since the average male prof is married to a non-academic, while the average female academic is married to a male Ph.D., leading to the "my career is more important that yours" syndrome. I have seen that happen with a lawyer couple with whose family my family was good friends when I was growing up, so I suspect that that statistic is true of professional married women in general. It is not unique to academic couples for each individual to enter the marriage with the assumption that his/her career is or should be more important than the other person's, or more important than the marriage or the family unit. But such things vary according to maturity level of the individuals involved (the couple we knew were very immature), temperament, and level of ambition.

Now, to be fair, the rather extensive study done by Berkeley showed that women with children made up almost 1/2 of women in tenure-track positions, with only a slightly lower percentage overall than women without children. It's funny the way that worked out, unless you look at the comparison to the number of men in tenure-track positions. It was clear that family considerations do indeed keep huge numbers of women out of tenure-track positions. When I consider my schedule for next year as I strive to keep my youngest out of daycare, I understand why. But at the same time, for women to drop down into lower-paying, higher-teaching load adjunct and non-tenure track positions doesn't make intuitive sense to me.

I remember reading posts recently about the presence and absence of children in our lives. Not just the ones that sparked some of my bolder pronouncements on the subject, but discussions on other blogs about how having children around while growing up fosters a healthy attitude toward children, including a realistic impression of what can actually be accomplished with children around. Just the knowledge of how to take care of a baby is a healthy effect of having not only siblings, but young cousins, and friends who have siblings, etc. While it may be helpful for me at this stage to have some on-campus office hours in the fall, I know that I can write with my babies around. I've been doing it as long as I can remember!! So sacrificing the lower teaching load of a tenure-track job for a job that requires more in-classroom hours and less research & publication doesn't seem like a smart career (or family) move to me. Of course, I don't aspire to an R1 university anyway. I would like a university where achieving tenure is a more laid-back, faculty-supported, not highly-competitive enterprise. So clearly, I won't be taking a position (or applying for a position) with the Berkeley system. Besides my aversion to earthquakes and mudslides. But it is nice to see the problems laid out and some solutions proposed. I really like one of the goals articulated in their report on their findings: They want to be able to answer the often-asked female grad student query, "When is a good time to have a baby?" with a resounding "Any time!" Part of their program, then, is to support grad students who wish to have families. The problem is that at this stage their family-friendly policies and goals (dictated, no doubt, by current reluctance of some people to move to California because of cost as well as a negative birth rate in some parts of the state that rivals that of some European nations. . .) are not necessarily shared by the institutions that will be hiring their new Ph.D.'s. So it's a step in the right direction, but unless other schools follow suit, it's only a solution for the faculty they wish to recruit or retain.

On the other hand, if some nutbar tries to tell me that I'm being utterly irresponsible by having more than one or two children, I can just say that since only 1 in 3 female tenured academics have children, I can have up to 6 myself and still be making up for the other two!!

*Sowing the academic oats does indeed have a biological counterpart when male professors, having achieved tenure, marry their grad students or undergrads!

Postcolonial Digression

So Anastasia posed a question on her blog: empire bad, yes? What sayest thou?

After I made a rather obvious smartass comment, I revisited it to say the following:

Playing devil's advocate: Empire can both neutralize the extremities of culture and allow for a mingling that produces richness along the contact zones of cultures that would otherwise compete for supremacy. Unified by--and against--the colonizer, they mingle to create cultural richness that previously had not existed. Not to mention postcolonial literature ripe for analysis!

So while it's a darn shame that no one has had his still-beating heart ripped from his chest down in Central America lately, the Romans might have made some cultural improvements in Europe before succumbing to the Germanic hordes.

But undergraduates are studying marketable subjects--like philosophy--and wouldn't know about those things.

Blankies Galore!!

So this is what I've been doing this weekend.

A blanket for my friend (and Doodle's godmother) who will be having her second child (and first daughter) in June. It is a cowgirl motif because my mother made some of the decor for her son's room in a cowboy motif, and the new baby will likely inherit that room. So this way, it is something new to go along with something shared!



Disclaimer: Any resemblance that this blanket might bear to the school colors of any Texas university is purely coincidental!!

So far I have only made blankets to keep (4, to be exact--one of them a 12 square Christmas blanket!) and blankets to give to good friends (also 4--now 5). These blankets are something different for me, and proving to be more difficult than I thought! I decided that I would make a blanket to donate to the English Graduate Student Association's annual silent auction. I was going to make a unisex blankie, but I was attracted to the florals (as usual) more than the gender-neutral prints. So I did both!

The first is the floral, and its color scheme is based around the asian cherry blossom print. I'm not sure the colors are true-to-life in this pic, because there's a lot of peach in the floral:

My first "neutral" blanket is a green froggie blanket (I love frogs) with yellow trim and a yellow backing.


The winner will choose 1 of the 2 blankets. I hope they go over well!

Marriage Prep begins in the car. . . on the way home from school?

Two days ago, my son, who is 11 years and in 5th grade, came home telling me about an "adventure" that he was involved in--nothing school related, he added. It seems that a girl in his class "likes" a boy in his class and wants to "date" him, but he has been taking no notice. ("Good for him!" I thought. In my day, we "liked" one another, but I'm not sure we really talked about "dating"--at any rate, no one went anywhere. . .) Well, my son became involved in this when the girl entreated him to ask the boy some questions--not sure what questions, probably "will you go out with her or what?" and to try to convince him to go out with her. She offered him first $10 and then $5 to ask her intended some questions.

Well, first I told him that she was not going to give him money, so not to expect it. He was a bit disappointed. I further said that if she did produce the money, he was not to take it. Then, I got went off for a little while--good humoredly--about the silliness of the whole matter: 5th graders? dating? Dating (I said, in my parental wisdom) was really about getting to know someone whom you might want to marry. Yes, he said, and when you mention marriage, the kids are like--eeeeeeewwwwww. But when it's dating, they're like--who's with who? Oh boy. Now, I would not have had a conversation like this with my mom. Never. Though like my son, I knew her opinions on the matter and probably would have cast it in a way that made it look like I understood and agreed with her on all points. Hmmmmm. . . But I never would have even gone into a "She likes him, but he doesn't like her" etc. etc. I'm glad he feels like he can be open with me, even about this trivial stuff. Because, I started thinking, this is trivial now, but my attitudes are going to lay the foundation for when things are much less trivial. Aren't they?

Having thought this on some kind of subconscious level, I realized that I couldn't just leave it at "This is silly. 5th graders are too young. This is for people who are considering getting married." So in spite of the fact that he was likely more interested in the second Leven Thumps book, I proceeded with a discussion of sorts. It went something like this:

Have you discussed the Sacraments in R.E. yet? I mean, this year? Kind of. So you basically talked about what each one is? And no much else. O.K. Have you talked at all about how Marriage is like Ordination? [O.K., he's confused, but interested. Good.] Well, both are considered vocations, and God calls some people to Marriage, some people to the religious life, and some people are neither, but live a single life. Also, Marriage and Ordination are two Sacraments that are exclusive. You can't be married if you are ordained, and in most cases, you can't be ordained if you are married. Remember, though, a couple of years ago we were at a Mass officiated by a newly ordained priest? He had been married, but his wife died, so he became a priest. So he is one of few people who will be able to receive all seven Sacraments, which is uncommon. From there, I stressed the seriousness of marriage (which is why I was comparing Marriage to Ordination--because marriage is "everyday," while it's easier to recognize the special significance of Ordination)--the idea that it is a vocation, and as such, it has to do with what God has planned for us. And because it is serious, and a Sacrament, anything leading up to it should be taken seriously--like dating. And that is why 5th graders shouldn't be talking about such things--or 6th graders, or 7th, 8th. . . You get the idea. I definitely suggested that dating was for late in high school at the earliest.

I know there's a school of thought that says that chaste, Catholic young people shouldn't "date" at all, the argument being that "dating" as it's currently defined doesn't lend itself to chastity. True, but the definition can be altered in the mind of the young person by parental influence, I think. I started thinking about this again after reading Dr. Janet Smith's essay on "The Challenge of Marriage Preparation" this evening, which claims that, on the contrary, "Young people simply don't date." She continues:

Young men do not plan for the weekend and then invite a young lady out. Often young people just hang out together and perhaps someday one or the other musters up the courage to ask his or her friend "Is anything romantic going on here?" For the licentious, a positive answer means finding a vacant bed.

I think this is partially right (the latter part) and partially inaccurate, but the point is a valid one--what passes for dating runs counter to chastity. While I'm sure that we'll have to repeat this conversation at uncertain intervals, I think it was important to lay some groundwork with this conversation.

Dr. Smith outlines three stages of marriage preparation according to the Church--remote, proximate, and immediate:

Remote preparation takes place in the home, as the child from a very young age observes how his or her parents interact. Children, like sponges, soak up nearly everything around them. In our culture, that preparation is often counterproductive; children spend their earlier years with squabbling parents and their teen years shuttling between parents who are trying to get their lives together. Even those who grow up in intact households harbor deep doubts about the durability of marriage.

Proximate preparation takes place as one moves into adulthood and begins to think about choosing a life partner. This might include some sort of education in abstinence or sexuality in the schools. I think this period is also mismanaged in our culture. Young people are not counseled to date wisely. They easily fall in love with someone who is not a good choice for a life partner and thus many unfortunate marriages are made.

PreCana instruction and engagement encounter weekends constitute immediate preparation. If done well, these are opportunities to begin to work on some of the issues that all married couples face and even to give a very important final consideration to the wisdom of one's choice. This is an opportunity to teach Catholics who know so little about their faith. A crash course is needed in what a sacrament is, in marriage as a vocation, in marriage as indissoluble. Couples need to learn why premarital sex is wrong, why contraception is wrong, why prayer should be a part of everyone's life, for instance.

Recently, my husband and I were asked to participate in our parish's Pre Cana program. Okay, it's more like ongoing recruitment than a request! ;) While we see the importance, and I believe we would both like to help prepare young couples for the realities of marriage and the realities of Catholic marriage, we have so many questions. One big one is what kind of contribution we could make. Given the chance, what insights based on our own experience could we really pass on to new couples? And how would they fit with the goals of the Pre Cana, or how could we make them fit? So far, we have missed the preliminary conversation because Doodle was sick last weekend. She's still not doing very well, though there are no real symptoms, but one reason I am dubious about whether we could or should participate in the marriage prep program right now is that it means being away from the children for a long stretch on the Pre Cana weekends. But the question of topics is also troubling. Would we discuss NFP, when we would likely stress the difficulties rather than the benefits? We are singularly unqualified to discuss finances, although we might give a lesson about not letting difficult finances hurt the marriage.

But at any rate, if we are not sure yet whether--or how--we fit in to the "immediate preparation," we are committed to the "remote." I know I mentioned to my son in that same conversation that people who are married should be--and should remain--friends. He found this difficult to apply to his parents--because, well, we're parents--but agreed once I explained. He also saw friendship as the basis for the marriage of a couple with whom we are close as a family. I hope he will carry some of this with him, and when the next round of conversations comes around, we will have a strong foundation on which to build.

So THERE!

I've taken the post down. So all of you perverts who find my blog by doing Google searches for "sexy breastfeeding breasts," etc., can just go the heck away!!! I'm sure my number of hits will be cut in half now. But until then, shame on you!!!

SF Course Reading List

So in July I will be teaching Science Fiction. I have officially placed my bookorder, and my desk copies of the novels are on the way (I hope)! The books I'm requiring are:

Gunn, James The Road to Science Fiction #2: From Wells to Heinlein

Gunn, James The Road to Science Fiction #3: From Heinlein to Here

Heinlein, Robert The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

Moon, Elizabeth The Speed of Dark

The anthologies are expensive together, but the two of them equal the price of the "standard" academic textbooks--except, apparently, the Norton anthology, but as they didn't get a copy to me after I requested one TWICE... I can't say I necessarily would have chosen it anyway. There still seem to be some omissions. "The Star" by Arthur C. Clarke is one that I would like to see included, and I would like to teach Bradbury's 'The Veldt," but at least I do that in my Intro to Lit course. Keyes' "Flowers for Algernon" (the short version) is one I will have to have as a supplement. It and Vonnegot's "Harrison Bergeron" will make for interesting discussion with The Speed of Dark. I admit that I have not yet read The Speed of Dark, but it comes highly recommended; it might be possible to have the author talk to the class; the author is a Texas author, contemporary, a woman, and well, the book sounds interesting. Also, book orders are due. Like, 10 days ago.

So, any thoughts??

Catchier Title: Catholic Postmodernism?

I suppose the whole "finishing a dissertation draft" thing is making me feel like an academic again or something, because my last few posts have been very much in the academic vein. That makes me feel good, really, because this is pretty much how I should be thinking if I want to pull-off an academic career of sorts. Also, it's nice to have ideas & feel excited about having ideas again!! So continuing the trend. . .

In response to my last post about Reading Modernism as an Adult, Maria, fellow-Catholic Academic and Modernist (!) wrote a post about her experiences of Modernism as an Adult, with particular reference to postmodernism. She writes:

I realized that I was a modernist after a few years too. Especially, in grad school when I realized that my dabbling in postmodernism had turned me off of over fragmentation without a purpose. A purpose of purposelessness. I found that increasingly annoying. Particularly because of the discussions that I had in the last few courses of my MA with people who thought that uselessness had more use than well, use (sorry about that). It really bothered me to think that there were people who thought in such a way.

This made a lot of sense to me. Particularly the bit about fellow students. I almost think sometimes that grad students and (to a lesser extent perhaps) professors who study postmodernism take it more seriously than the writers themselves.

I know that in theory postmodernism is "A purpose of purposelessness," and that many writers and philosophers do indeed take that to heart. But I would venture to say that not all of them do. In all of the fragmented contradictions of postmodernism, isn't it possible to sometimes glimpse a hint or hope of meaning? The pieces may not fit. . . or perhaps it's that we haven't yet found--or have forgotten--the clue to assembling them. Not that we would necessarily assemble them anyway, because aren't the pieces interesting in and of themselves? They make us laugh at ourselves. As in the stories of Donald Barthelme. But perhaps I'm not talking about the purist postmodernists. I have a few postmodernists that I keep up my sleeve and play with from time to time. I've waxed poetic about Calvino before. And Borges is always good for a laugh.

Now the interesting thing about Calvino and Borges is that--whether or not they ever set foot in a Catholic Church past the age of 7--both lived primarily or extensively in Catholic countries, or so it could be supposed. (I have since found Barthelme listed in many places under the heading "American Catholic writers," usually with the disclaimer that he declared himself to be agnostic.) And though being "culturally Catholic" isn't the same as being Catholic, raised Catholic, practicing Catholic, or coming from a Catholic background, it affects one. There are moments in Invisible Cities that remind me--not of Catholicism exactly, but of a certain worldview that I grew up with. It has to do with the continuation of life--indeed, the celebration of life!--in the face of fragmentation and apparent meaninglessness. I say "apparent" because nowhere in Calvino do I get the sense that life is absolutely meaningless. Life provides questions--seemingly contradictory questions--that we can't answer, but, well, we all know that. Of course, I'm also the person who sees Arthur C. Clarke's "The Star" as posing a dilemma that actually allows for a theological answer. *shrug* Truthfully, there's a certain kind of hopelessness that I find exhilarating. Perhaps because it is after a certain point of hopelessness that faith really begins to take root. There are moments like that in Tolkien, too, and they can be positively identified as Catholic in his context.

So what I'm wondering is, can a "Catholic postmodernism" be identified, and what would it gain for us to do so? Perhaps an articulation of a particular Catholic worldview. To return to my Catholic colleges question, I think I imagine an academic community that would assist and support this kind of inquiry--colleagues who would take such questions seriously. Wonder where I could find such a place?

Reading Modernism as an Adult

When I entered grad school, really I thought I'd be working with Victorian poetry. Perhaps Modernist poetry. Maybe Yeats. I did not think I would be working on prose and I certainly didn't think I would be working on Modernist fiction. Except that the only grad course I took on Victorian poetry was really, really boring. And the courses I took that included poetry generally did so out of a sense of obligation rather than interest, and I was really never taught how one writes graduate or professional-level papers/articles about poetry (and though my undergrad prep was good, it's not the same). Still, I toyed with the idea of doing something with metaphor or something with ecocritisism. But it just didn't take off, because that's not what I was really doing in my seminars. Two trends emerged: my papers confronted feminism on the issue of motherhood, especially using gothic literature, or they did this literacy thing. And, well, the literacy thing felt more innovative, and could be applied more broadly. Besides, I didn't want to teach Mary Wollstonecraft (gothic) and I didn't want to teach American Lit (poetry & American gothic). So I rediscovered Modernism. That was where most of my coursework was anyway. Even so, though, I hate Henry James, Ford Maddox Ford bores me (though he might have some Catholic issues to explore), wasn't too keen on Lawrence, didn't like Woolf. . . But I like Forster. And I like Huxley. So they were a starting point. I also like WWI. A lot. It caused an intellectual crisis of huge proportions. Anxiety. Loss of faith in civilization. . . . a heap of broken images. . . Whoopee! That's what hooked me on these guys to begin with! Except, well, I don't revel in despair anymore. Though I still like W. H. Auden's poetry. But I like expressions of despair, and of human continuation in the face of despair. So anyway, it seems I'm a Modernist, having just written a big 'ol dissertation on these guys. (Really, I like Modernism. I promise.)

So after talking to my committee member on Friday, I am settling down to read some of what I need to read to get me up to speed. (Funny thing. . . Woolf is my least favorite, but I am told--not surprisingly--that that's what most people will want me to teach. Ugh!) Most of what I have read of the big Modernist novelists I have done on my own. I read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in high school, for example--loved it. Stephen Daedalus is all about teen angst. And I was in my anti-Catholic phase, so that was O.K. When I reread it for prelims, I hated it. The Catholic stuff was interesting, as I now had a context from which to understand it, but Stephen Daedalus needed to get over himself in a big way. I understood that now as I did not when I was 15. Go figure. Of course, Dubliners is brilliant, but it's not in fashion anymore. It's like "Joyce for Dummies." Real scholars read Ulysses. Really really real scholars read Finnegan's Wake. Maybe one day when the kids are grown up. Until then, I have more important things to do with my time.

So I'm reading Lawrence's Women in Love. It's supposed to be one of his best. Which is good, 'cause it's 400 pages and Lawrence generally needed to learn when to stop writing. Perhaps this one will be different. Sons and Lovers is in my dissertation. I've got some short stories under my belt (read "Horse Dealer's Daughter"?--hated it). I read Lady Chatterley's Lover, like so many adolescents, and felt utterly cheated. Although I did latch on to a phrase or two about things I had no idea about at the time. And I'd look back and think, "Hmmm. . . was Lawrence right?" not knowing that Lawrence is generally wrong. In a big way. But what strikes me now is not his wrongness, or his frustrating tendencies, or his inability to find synonyms for the word "hate," but his absolute silliness. His self-conscious (oh how he hated self-consciousness) attempts at sensuality, eroticism. Especially masculine-flavored eroticism. It makes me giggle. And it was so scandalous at the time. And I would have felt differently 15 years ago. But really, all this talk of muscles and maleness and moustaches, hair and skin and animals, fountains and jets and streams. Really, I can't help but chuckle. Has the writing always been this absurd, and I can just see it now? And if so, then why didn't his contemporaries dismiss it as such instead of being scandalized? Or is my "maturity" and the culture's acceptance of Lawrence in all his over-sexed silliness just a symptom of our desensitization in the area of sexuality? I pause more now over his declarations about God's non-existence (which he--unlike Joyce--takes as a given, or tries to) than over his erotic imagery. Does that say more about me, or about the writing?

So what do you want to do?

I thought that with a Ph.D., the answer to that would be pretty clear. Even to those relatively unfamiliar with academia. So imagine my surprise when I got a version of that question from one of my committee members!! Granted, it was phrased rather differently. First, he asked where I wanted to teach, what kind of flexibility I had in terms of following a job (that was the "what's your husband going to do" and "will he follow you" question), how I'm going to market myself, and, finally, whether I want to be a "publishing" academic. Ummm. . . 'cause we have a choice, but okay. . . Even schools that really value teaching over publication--as evidenced by the high teaching loads required at those schools--feel the need to put a clause in their job ads about publishing & scholarly activity. I'm not sure what the rationale is. Maybe they feel like they need to include that kind of thing in order to attract up-and-coming new Ph.D.s, or maybe they really do feel like there should be a publishing component for academics at their (mostly smaller) colleges. I don't quite see a 4-4 load being compatible with a publishing career. And I don't see a 4-4 load being compatible with me. Writing and research for publication can be accomplished with babies around. Teaching 4 classes a semester--not so much. And the schools with the higher teaching loads don't tend to pay more.

But actually, I do see myself publishing. I like academic writing. I think some of my ideas might benefit the literary community. It sounds arrogant, but you have to think that kind of thing to play this game. And, well, you have to think that what you're doing is at least as interesting as what others are doing, perhaps more interesting. I'm pretty much there--no surprises. I do wonder what will stimulate new ideas, though. I can get some mileage from the literacy thing. I can get some mileage from ideas left over from coursework, and Catholicism might creep in somewhere, somehow. The "must write to complete course" and "must write to finish degree" will be replaced by "must write to publish" and "must write to get promotion/tenure." I suppose that the "ideas generated by coursework" will be replaced by "ideas generated by teaching" and "ideas generated by conferences" and "ideas generated by further reading." But you know, it feels different. I guess it will happen.

As for the other questions, I couldn't exactly say that I would apply for anything I seemed remotely qualified for. That may not be precisely true, anyway. I would prefer to teach literature, but I may be seen as attractive because of rhetoric. But I don't really know rhetoric. I am flexible enough to go anywhere, but there are some places I really don't want to live. And you know, being here for almost 9 years has spoiled me. I know what doctors to see, what schools are good, and I know it's safe to take a walk in the park. There is a disturbing lack of good Catholic education, but there are rumors about that changing. There is a disturbing lack of culture, but there is a reassuring lack of crime. It's not a bad place to raise a family, just a boring place. Anyway, the next year(s) will be an adventure! I wonder how often I will have to answer/ponder these same questions in the coming weeks and months?

Life with a Toddler

This evening, my husband said to me,

Should I turn this [tape] off, wander back [to our bedroom] with her [to put her to bed]--and fall asleep so she can play bongos on my nose or something?

And I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks.

IT'S FINISHED!!!!!!!!!

[Doing a little dance around the apartment]

The final touches have been put on the dissertation conclusion! (Believe me, the use of passive voice is intentional and appropriate.) Without the works cited, it is 219 pages, 65,887 words, and 348, 083 characters (without spaces). Now I get to photocopy it in all of its tree-killing immensity, and deliver it to my committee. And while I know that this is not the FINAL final copy, and that there is a bit more to the process, still. . .

It's finished, it's finished, it's finished, it's finished. . .

Portrait of an Academic Mom

This evening as I sat on the sofa writing what will be some of the final pages of my dissertation, my 2-year-old daughter, who had, a little while before, put on the DVD of The Empire Strikes Back, climbed into my lap, leaned her head on my shoulder, and fell asleep between my iBook and I as I continued to type. :)

Okay, So I Might Graduate. . .

Actually, it's looking pretty certain these days. I'm finishing up the dissertation now (well, no, not now exactly, but you know what I mean. . .), and my defense is set for May 5. I have to have a good copy to my committee by Friday so they can, like, read it and stuff. So eventually, I figure, I should get a job. Well, I guess first I have to look and apply for some jobs. So I was wondering. . .

Since becoming Catholic, I have been thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice to teach at a nice Catholic school? Then I could raise the kinds of questions that you can't raise in a state school where you're supposed to respect everyone's religious identity to the point of annihilating your own (like when, post 9-11, one prof voluntarily removed his Divinity Degree from the wall, and another was advised to hide her icons!!), and where there would, presumably, be some sense of Catholic identity, and opportunities for faith formation among the faculty and. . . well, that's the kind of thing I was thinking. Except that even in the first fervor of conversion, I wasn't sure Ave Maria or Steubenville would be for me. I'm an orthodox kind of gal, but I'm not ready for any Catholic versions of those protestant colleges that won't let faculty drink alcohol (yet the one I have in mind has the bar and cash register from the Bird and the Baby--the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings met--in its library--yeah. . .), and I believe that those schools might be a teensy evangelical in flavor for a recovering protestant.

So then I found the blogosphere. Specifically, the Catholic blogosphere. And I learned that not all Catholic colleges are created equal. And that precious few are deemed "Catholic enough" for the orthodox crowd who want their kids to have a degree. I've been to a bunch of the web sites that give you the scoop on the adherence of the various Catholic colleges to the Magesterium, read many a lament about the state of Catholic higher education, many tirades against the Jesuits, and, frankly, I'm confused. The scholarly, prominent Catholic universities with whom every new Ph.D. would LOVE to have an interview are apparently unworthy of being termed Catholic, while the most orthodox of all hire mainly clergy or have 5-person English departments or 300-student enrollments and the ones in between have low pay, high teaching loads, nominal research requirements--not the kind of place to go, in short, if teaching and research are on your agenda, that is, if you want your ideas to be heard by the scholarly community. So is it worth investigating positions at Catholic colleges at all? If you risk being associated with heterodoxy or heresy, or exposed to and manipulated by such ideas? If, by avoiding those pitfalls, you are compromising the chance of having a Catholic voice in the cacophany of scholarly opinions? Not to mention compromising your ability to pay those loans--you know, the ones that are equal to or surpass the price of a really nice house? The ones that you will not pay off before you die? The ones that are, in fact, a lease on your education rather than a purchase? Yeah, those. Is it O.K. for a Catholic academic to take a position at a Catholic college or university that is Catholic in name only? In hopes of influencing others, maybe? Or do you just give up on Catholic education altogether in order to avoid this sticky issue?