Creature Bug

And now you must call me Master Stephanie

At exactly 1:27 pm--a full 27 minutes after I could call, but didn't because I was afraid I'd get a busy signal--I called the graduate office. They told me the news: I PASSED MY GRADUATE EXAMS.

WOOOOOHOOOO!

I PASSED!

I very quietly celebrated since Jules is taking a nap, and Sydney gets riled up if I get riled up, so consider these exclamation points my party.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, it's official. I have my Master of Science in Education with a Language Arts Emphasis. I feel like I ought to wax eloquently about it, but I think I've pretty much said all I need to say about it. Just for my own record, and because someday I may consider getting my PhD and I need to remind myself of all this work, here's a few milestones of the journey. (By the way, for the longest time I thought I started classes in 2000, but I hadn't. Hooray for it taking a year less than I thought,)

• Summer 2001: Begin graduate program. Take class in James Joyce, at which point I realize a whole literary world that I had previously been unaware of.
• Summer 2002: Continue classes. Two-thirds of the way finished.
• Summer 2003: Out of money. Take one class.
• Spring 2004: Take a class, and revel in being the only pregnant woman in class.
• Summer 2004: Have a baby. Take no classes.
• January 2005: Back in the saddle again. Take a Modern Irish Literature class and fall in love with the academic world again.
• March 2005: Feel a bit frantic about having to write a term paper as well as parent a 9-month old.
• January 2006: Take an online course: Internet for Educators class. Ho hum.
• Summer 2006: Take a Teaching Writing class, which made me wish for a brief moment I was teaching high school English again.
• Spring 2007: Take a linguistics class that was a wonderful way to end my course-work. The professor was amazing, the subject work fascinating, and though leaving newborn Jules with a friend was hard, it worked out. And when it didn't work, I took Jules to class with me and the professor held her while I worked on the assignments.

And after that class I thought I would be able to take comps, but between them not being offered and not wanting to take them the same term as Jason took his, they were post-poned until this fall.

Seven years and five months later, I finished--with a perfect 4.0--what I started.

Yay me.

Sixteen hours...

...until I find out the results of my exams.

Eek.

Rocks and Socks and Talks and Walks

I admit I had a moment of panic yesterday when I opened up the envelope, pulled out the test questions, and saw that one of the test questions was not what I had studied for. "Oh crap," I mumbled to myself. I closed my eyes and prayed I would not throw up.

And then I sat, for a good 15 minutes, willing myself to stay there and work it out anyway. Even though I tend to do well on essay exams, I still lean more towards feelings of flight rather than fight. I remembered having the same feeling ten years ago when I took part of my teaching exam, seeing that question about Emily Dickinson and themes of death in her poetry and thinking, "I can't do it." I cried for the first hour of the two-hour exam.

But not yesterday. I would not cry. I would not run away. I would answer the question, even if it didn't have anything to do with everything I had memorized about Aristotle's rhetorical context. And, I told myself, I was going to totally rock that exam question--even if it was pebble-size rocking, rather than boulder-size. A rock is a rock, right?

Anyway, I typed my little heart out, managing to eek out two 1500-word essays that I wasn't ashamed of. The comic Irish lit question I had expected; the developing a teaching unit based on grammar theories wasn't exactly what I had planned on. Nevertheless, by a stroke of Providence, just that morning I had looked over some grammar theories and decided to randomly memorize a few names. Thank you, Lord.

While it's true that I ended up basing the whole writing unit on one theorist whose name I couldn't remember, I think it'll be okay. It's quite possible what I wrote wasn't what they were looking for, but in the end I was pretty tickled with myself and wished that I could actually implement the writing unit I created because it was so totally creative and cool. See, there's that residual adrenaline talking now.

I didn't run away. I sat there and remembered all the things people have said to encourage me. I thought of my professors, my sweet husband, my parents, and I thought, "I can do it."

And 7 hours and 5000 words later, I did.

Now I wait until November 19th to see if I passed. Deep breaths.

Three hours down, four to go

I finished the education portion of my comps today. Whew! No thanks to the two hours of insomnia I suffered in the middle of the night, I still did fine and dandy, and feel confident I'll receive passing marks without any troubles. I even celebrated with a pumpkin milkshake from Burgerville.

Tomorrow is the literature portion. I am feeling much more unsteady, but optimistic nevertheless.

Fingers crossed.

Week 229: The Decisions We Make

I've been waiting for this week for a long time.

I've thought long and hard about it, made plans about it, studied the facts and issues for hours upon hours.

My decision for this week's event is based on what happened eight years ago. Eight long years ago.

As a result of that decision, my life has sometimes been turned upside down. It's been an emotional journey, and at times felt hopeless. But I've persevered because I knew that it was the only course. And now the time has come to put it all on the line.

I'm, of course, talking about my comprehensive graduate exams. (What? You thought I was talking about something else that's happening this week? Silly.)

Yes, it was eight years ago that I took my first graduate class at Western Oregon University, somehow turning a 3-summer program into an 8-summer program. I'm an overachiever like that.

No matter that some people *cough* my parents *cough* have worried I wouldn't finish, those same people have supported and loved me through it anyway. In fact, they're taking the girls for the two days that I'm taking the exams. All is forgiven, and no one will be happier or more relieved when that diploma comes in the mail than...my mother. Second place goes to my grandma. I think I'm probably fourth or fifth down the line.

The other good news is that I had an epiphany this weekend about my comps. Considering that "epiphany" is one of James Joyce's trademark themes, it was only fitting that it was while I was reading one of his books that I figured out how to pull everything together to answer one of the questions. I feel so much more relieved knowing that I won't totally embarrass myself on Friday (or Thursday, which is when I'm answering the education questions).

I can do this.

In fact, I'm glad I'm doing it. Not only because I've spent a considering amount of time, money and effort on the dang thing, but because I realized today that not once have I felt any measure of guilt that this has been part of my life as a parent. There may be things that I do give up, things that I sacrifice, many moments when "I" am low on the priority list, but getting this degree? I'm doing this for me.

It never occurred to me that I shouldn't do this. No one had to convince me that it was important. Even though the classwork was definitely harder to do after I became a mom, it was still something that I wanted to do. Always.

A lot of my life is about being a wife and a mom, but as Dr. Seuss said, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."

Fingers crossed that after Friday I will be Me-er than Me, with a master of science in education.

Stretched Thin

As I was driving to school today, I realized with some alarm that I do not have enough hours in the day to accomplish everything that I need to do. Or, rather, I do not have enough hours of solitude to accomplish everything. I can get the laundry done. I can make dinner. I can vacuum. I can do all the things that can be done while simultaneously refereeing playtime between the girls.

But the other stuff? The stuff that I can't do with the girls? That area is suffering.

Specifically, I have professional responsibilities--like grading and reviewing new textbooks and coordinating with the academic center about students' grades--that I'm behind on. And then there are the academic responsibilities--like studying. For the exams. That are next Thursday.

Even though I've set pretty low standards for myself ("Just do the best you can with the time that you have, even if your best ends up being sub-par by normal standards"), and I've even given myself permission to fail the graduate exams (because it will not be the end of the world if I don't pass them), I'd really rather excel. Because, honestly, mediocrity is not what I strive for. There are days, though, that I feel like I do nothing excellently, but just get by on a wing and a prayer.

When I look at my line up of things to do, I wouldn't say I'm worried. I wouldn't exactly say I'm stressed about it either.

Well, maybe I'm a little bit stressed.

Just a teeny tiny bit.

For my degree, I try to focus on the end goal. I keep thinking of a student I have in my class. Five days before the first day of class, she had a baby, her third child. Five days! Plus, she manages her own business, and she's a full-time student taking classes in her non-native language. She's getting an A in my class, and she reminds me that life isn't always easy but you do what you do because you have to do it.

She and I tell each other, It may be hard right now, but it'll be worth it in the end. For me, I'm hoping that one big "end" will come next Friday. Win or lose, I'll be done taking the exams. Then regardless of that outcome, I'll come home and step right back into my role as a mommy and wife.

It's hard to make sacrifices--whether it's getting a good grade, or spending time with my family, or making a really great meal. But I'm making them anyway. Because I think what I'm doing--teaching, getting my graduate degree--is important.

At least, most days I think it's important.

Two weeks to G-Day

Things that must be accomplished this weekend:

• Grade papers and post grades online
• Pack up stuff from our old apartment
• Move into new apartment
• Assorted cleaning projects related to moving in and moving out

But most importantly: I must study for my graduate exams which are in TWO WEEKS.

TWO WEEKS UNTIL COMPREHENSIVE EXAMS. TWO WEEKS UNTIL MY BRAIN COMPLETELY EXPLODES WITH INFORMATION THAT I'VE BEEN RETAINING FOR EIGHT YEARS. It's enough to make me all CAPSY (to steal a phrase from the Fug Girls).

Fortunately, I did get a bit of direction on what to study for my literature question. The key words: theories of comedy and Joyce. And if I'm feeling especially clever, add a dash of Althusser or Bakhtin.

Sweet Mary and Joseph. I have to write an essay about Joyce. And sound intelligent enough to warrant a graduate degree.

I should study some more, but first I need to know something.

Answer me this:

I hope you thought long and hard about your answer.

You

First of all, yesterday WE SIGNED OFFICIAL CLOSING PAPERS selling our house. It's sold. We did it. I didn't even cry. I'm sure I will eventually, but not right now. Plus, today we will receive a very large check with a good number of zeros on it, and that makes me oh so very happy. I know money isn't everything, but when it comes to building a house, money is one of those things banks get picky about.

Second of all--and you may not think this is huge deal, but it's a big deal at our house--*drumroll please*... Sydney wrote out her first word! All by herself. Without any prompting. Oh my goodness gracious.

Obviously, we had to make cupcakes to celebrate her achievement. We are nothing if not predictable in celebrating accomplishments like learning that 2 + 2 is 4, and memorizing all 50 states, and saying "three" instead of "free." Ah, the perils of growing up in a household with two teachers for parents.

Syd has had the basic idea of writing her name for a few months now. The "s" is tricky (very wiggly) and the "d" sometimes is upside down, or backwards, or upside and backwards, but she's working on it. However, on Monday, I came home from errands and there was Sydney at the table, a huge grin on her face, ready to explode with excitement. "MOM! Look what I can do!"

A quick glance at her paper revealed what she was going to accomplish, but I didn't let on that I had it figured out. I watched as she very slowly wrote out three letters: y-o-u.

There was much cheering in my household over that one little word. Over and over, Sydney wrote it out on her piece of oversized construction paper. You, in pink. You, in green, You, in varying shades of red. It was a veritable parade of you-ness.

As soon as I saw Sydney write out the word, I knew exactly how she had learned it. We've been working on sight words, both with flashcards and with a new DVD that I got from Parent Bloggers Network. Since Sydney isn't going to be attending pre-school in the fall (and probably won't attend a traditional kindergarten the following year either), then I've been making an effort to do some small-scale teaching of sight words. It's all very low-key since I'm a pretty firm believer that young kids should do most of their learning through play time, not sitting at the table memorizing root words.

Even though we've reviewed a language development system before, this new DVD is more brief, more geared towards preschoolers, and altogether a more focused presentation on one particular skill. Meet the Sightwords is produced by the Preschool Prep Company, and they have a whole line-up of educational DVDs.

What I like about this particular DVD is that it's not too loud or boisterous, it uses a lot of repetition, and the goal is simple: familiarize kids with sight words. Sight words are the ones that kids usually learn to "read" first because they are the words that you don't sound out. You just know them. Of, you, he, to, a, play, said, and, the--these are all words that kids need to just recognized as words rather than labor over sounding them out (which can be exasperating, especially with a word like "the"). In fact, the better you get at reading, the greater number of words that become sight words. For instance, as you're reading this post you probably don't have to sound out too many of the words. You just know what they are.

Meet the Sight Words helps kids start to learn those beginning sight words, and overall I think it does a pretty good job at it. The sight words come on the screen, become little characters who do simple tasks, and the narrator probably repeat the specific word about a dozen times. Because there's no storyline, then it's not a movie that Sydney will watch every day. However, after seeing it a few times she has learned to recognize some of the words in books.

The thing I most appreciate about the DVD--something I haven't seen other educational DVDs do--is that it shows the words in a variety of colors, sizes, and positions on the screen. It's not just a slide show of a static word moving across the tv; it's trying to help kids recognize a pattern of letters in a dynamic environment. Afterall, not every book a child reads is going to be in the same font. Not every presentation of the letter "a" is going to look the same (there's this a, and there's this a).

For me, it's just nice to have another tool to use with Sydney as she continues to explore writing and reading. And someday, if she ever asks about the first word she ever wrote out by herself, I can tell her,

"It all began with you."

Preschool Prep Company sells a whole slew of educational DVDs, and Meet the Sight Words retails for $14.95. Or you can get it at Amazon for $9.99.

Learning to Read

My parents love to tell the story of how I learned to read. They even have a home movie of me reading the flash cards, which is pretty cute if I do say so myself. After many months of my parents reading books and flash cards to me, one day I picked up a book and started reading on my own.

I was 3 years old.

I used to think it was because I was a bright kid with a propensity for language and words. No doubt, I was a certain kind of learner who was willing to sit and be read to, but it turns out that a lot of kids can learn to read young if they're constantly exposed to words. Even though Jason and I weren't early-childhood or elementary education majors, we still took classes that discussed the concept of reading and how kids learn (or have troubles learning), and definitely our background in education has played a role in our interactions with the girls.

From us reading to her, to pointing out words, to phonetic exercises sprinkled throughout the day, Sydney certainly gets a lot of exposure to the early processes of reading. For a few months now she has started identifying the letter that words begin with. "Look at that red truck! Tih...tih...ter-ruck. 'Truck' starts with T!" But I have to be careful if I try this little game too often: "Hey Syd! There's a horse. What letter does 'horse' start with?"

"No," she says, "not today."

Fair enough.

Right after Sydney was born, I saw a program that taught babies to read. I added it to my Amazon wish list--mostly for my own future reference--and thought it would be pretty cool if I ever had the opportunity to try it out on her. I remember thinking, Wouldn't that be something if I could teach Sydney to read?

Well, since Sydney won't be going to pre-school next year (because of the cost, not because I have anything against pre-school) and she's already really close to reading, I think Jason and I will probably end up being the ones who teach her to read. Pretty cool. And that program that teaches babies to read? Amazingly enough, I've been able to try it out with the girls. Parent Bloggers Network had a handful of review copies, and I asked ever so nicely (okay, begged a little bit) to try it out. I was dying to see if it worked. After months of trying it out, the verdict is...kind of.

This early language development system is called Your Baby Can Read, and it was developed by Dr. Robert Titzer. We tried out the 5-DVD Box Set, which includes sliding word cards. The program asks that you begin with the Starter DVD, and have your child watch it twice a day, for a month. Already this seemed like a difficult task because carving out time to watch a video twice a day, while easy to do with Sydney, was not easy to do with Jules. But I wanted to give the program a fair shot, and so we tried.

The very first time we watched it, Jules (at the time just over 12-months old) kinda-sorta-maybe paid attention and did, in fact, learn something. The phrase "arms up" was shown and repeated several times, along with pictures of babies putting their arms up. Jules heard the phrase, saw the picture, and started doing it. "Arms up!' the voice would read. And Jules' arms went up. Since we don't use the phrase "arms up" around here (having long ago adopted the phrase our nanny taught us: "Praise the Lord!" said in our best southern charismatic voice), I know Jules learned it from the video.

After that first day, however, Julianne had no interest in watching the video, so mostly I was watching it with Sydney and evaluating the program myself. I definitely think the program would work in the right circumstances, with a child who was interested.

We know that children first learn to read using "whole word recognition." Which is to say, most of the time kids first learn to read by recognizing whole words, not through phonics (however, beware of schools that don't teach phonics because it can be detrimental to a child's future reading abilities). Dr. Titzer's program focuses on teaching reading through whole word recognition, although he does incorporate some elements of sounding the word out, which is good. There is a lot of repetition, which is exactly what children need in order to recognize words. (It's through repetition that Sydney has learned to "read" books.)

Both Sydney and I found the pacing of the word presentation a little too fast in some places. She would try to read the word, but either the answer was given too quickly, or the screen would move to a new word too fast, and it would frustrate her. Sometimes I would help her out by pausing the video so she could see the word--I suspect her vision issues were a factor in not seeing the word right away--and this helped. The word screens that accompanied songs moved way too fast, and so when the song "Old MacDonald" was playing, Sydney would read along in her own book rather than on the screen.

So, the videos? We'll probably continue to use them here and there, but I think the real gems of the system are the flash cards.

Sydney loves these flash cards. They're heavy duty, and you can write on them with a dry-erase marker. Sydney traces the words, "writes" her own words (not with recognizable letters, but she's writing from left to right, so that's a step), and overall enjoys playing with the cards. The word cards are clever in that there is a word on the front and back of the card, and a representational picture of the word pulls out from the card. I'm definitely getting more of these word cards for Sydney to use because they seem to work for her.

Overall, I think the Your Baby Can Read program is very educational, and certainly is a great addition to any early language development. I would recommend it to parents interested in introducing reading skills to their kids, particularly if they don't even know where to begin in helping teach their child to read. My 16-month old didn't learn to read, but my almost 4-year old is getting there. They'll both figure it out eventually--in their own timing--and I'm just happy to help them out, presenting reading in a fun and interesting way.

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Let's Hear it for The Boy

Jason called WOU today to find out whether or not he passed his graduate exams that he took two weeks ago. (Yes, that's what he was doing Valentine's Day. No, talking about the Stuart Era--while interesting--is not so much romantic.)

Even though he finished his classes a year ago, it wasn't ever very convenient to take the exam. And by convenient I mean "feeling ambitious enough to put brain through academic torture." At long last, he forced himself to just do it, even if he didn't feel totally prepared.

The education exam was not so difficult (per usual for education exams).

The history exam was giving Jason nightmares. Literally. He had difficulty getting a hold of one of his professors in order to find out what he might need to study for. When you take courses on the Aztecs, Incas, Mayans, Stuarts, Tudors, Terrorists, NAFTA, Africa, and Central America it's helpful if you have a general ballpark of what the essay questions (3 questions, answered in four hours) are about.

In the end, he had to take an educated guess (as well as put in no less than 100 hours of studying).

He called WOU this morning to find out if he passed, and then he called me with the answer:

"Hey. So. I got a master's degree."

Love this man. So proud of him. Also? Feeling happy that I can finally put away the huge stacks of books that have been littering our room (Jihad vs. McWorld, anyone?) for the past couple months. Mostly though I'm just feeling darn proud that tonight I get to sleep next to guy who just earned his MS in Education. Oh yeah.

Turning to the Purple Side

A couple weeks ago I was talking to my students about blogging and the sometimes reviewing that I do with Parent Bloggers Network, and yada yada yada speech communication model. (I don't remember how I tied it in to the course content, but let's assume it was.) At one point a student asked "So do you watch Barney?"

Funny you should ask, I said. Very funny.

I admit that I didn't exactly have fond feelings of Barney growing up. I think it's because he first surfaced 20 years ago, which would have put me at the age when I was spurning most children's shows (except DuckTales and Gummi Bears, naturally) and child actors (except those cool kids on The All New Mickey Mouse Club). Big purple dinosaurs and singing children seemed...odd. Kids hugging and sharing and being too cheerful was certainly not what I was interested in.

Then I pretty much forgot all about Barney until I got a DVD from Parent Bloggers Network in the mail a few weeks ago. Ah, I said to myself. I have to watch Barney.

I kind of put it off for a few days, not because I thought Sydney wouldn't like it but because I thought it was going to be really annoying. I remembered my general disdain for child actors, and wasn't sure if I could manage introducing a new crew of kids into our household. Eventually, I decided to watch it by myself. Without Sydney. If it was too terrible, Sydney would never be the wiser to all things Barney.

Having rarely seen Barney on tv, I don't know how this compares to the tv shows, but it turns out that this particular DVD--Barney: Celebrating Around the World--is darn entertaining. As soon as I saw it, I knew Sydney would like it. Turns out she liked it so much she took it with her up to my parents' house, and watched it with my mom, who made a point of telling me this past weekend that even she enjoyed it. The songs, the dancing, the cultural education--it's really actually pretty nifty.

The premise is that Barney and his friends get on a magical train and travel throughout the world--Rio de Janeiro, Ireland, India, Kenya, Japan--meeting children from other countries and learning how other cultures celebrate and dance. When we watch the Irish dancers, Sydney gets up and tries to imitate them (okay, I admit it--as soon as I saw the Irish dancers then I knew I had to show Sydney the movie. IRISH DANCERS! IRELAND! I've had a long love of all things Irish, remember?). When we see the girls from India dancing, Sydney says, "They're from India. India is a long ways away from here. Mariah [our friend] is from India." And then I showed her where India was on a globe. Because Barney inspired her.

I'm sure that one of the reasons why Sydney loves the movie so much is because of the dancing and the singing, and I love that she also gets to learn a little bit about other cultures in the process of that. Sure, the other little dinosaur pals are sort of strange (I find myself wondering who the people are inside the costumes...), and there is one song that I'm not real keen on (about getting nervous), but kids love to watch other kids perform, and that's what endears Barney to children.

If your pre-school kids like Barney then obviously they'll love this movie. If your kids don't know who Barney is (like Sydney didn't) then this is great introduction because it's not going to get on your nerves. If you're not keen on Barney yourself, I would say give this one a chance. National dancing...cultural education...IRISH DANCERS. Very cool. Plus, Barney's been around for 20 years, so I have to admit that he must be doing something right in educating preschoolers.

The movie has a run-time of 54 minutes, and goes on sale today over at Amazon. And hey, if you're a local dance fan, Sydney's dance studio is doing an Irish Dancing night next month that I think might be fun to go see. I'll drop you details if you're interested in going.

For this I have the night off

(yesterday)

Jason: How about I take the girls out tomorrow night...

Me: ... (this sounds good) ...

Jason: ...so you can have some time on your own...

Me: ...(loving it!) ...

Jason: ...to write up answers for our comprehensive graduate exams next month?

Me: *

Jason: Yes?

Me: Okay.

*****

And so here I sit, typing up phrases like "Qualitative research is well suited to the field of education more than quantitative research because..." and after that I'm sure you don't care. I don't really care either, but that doesn't seem to keep me from writing about it.

On the upside (because there has to be an upside!), I get to peruse through some of my old papers--always an interesting task and occasionally a boost to the ego, especially those papers I wrote before I was a parent when I had hours upon hours of free time to craft my papers into small masterpieces. I am deliberately steering away from the papers I wrote when I was pregnant. They're not pretty. They're not even cohesive.

Funny thing is, during those before-children days, an evening spent writing a paper would have been a "work night," as opposed to tonight, when my evening spent writing essays is a "free night."

Yep. Those were the days.

All right. Back to evaluating the major components of a classroom management theory.

The Longest Road

Well, I did it.

I finished graduate school.

When Jason and I started, way the heck back in the summer of 2000, the plan was that we'd end up with our MS in Education after three summers. I'd get an MS in English Education; Jason would get his in Social Studies. That's how the program is set up, and that was how we figured we'd do it.

Oh, you know, except that we didn't.

We were two-thirds of the way done when one summer it got a little trickier to shell out a few thousand bucks for tuition. We'd finish it the next summer, we said.

But then the next summer we couldn't finish it either.

Bit by bit we'd take classes here and there, watching as bit by bit tuition would also get more expensive. Jason was able to finish sooner, but I had a couple set-backs. I had a baby one summer, so I didn't take any classes. Then another summer the classes that I needed to take weren't being offered. And well, seven years later, here I am. It's kind of embarrassing how long it has taken me, considering it's a twelve-month program. Seven years? People become lawyers in seven years. People can get medical degrees in seven years. But that's the way it goes. To my credit, I was doing other stuff besides taking classes. Like working, and being pregnant, and having babies, and being pregnant, and folding laundry, and...stuff. I won't let a little thing like seven years get in the way of me being proud of myself. I'm here.

Done.

There is the small matter of passing the comprehensive exams in August, and I'm sure I'll still end up taking some classes just for fun, but I'm done with all the required stuff. Done writing papers. Done worrying about keeping my streak of straight A's. Done staying up until 2 am typing, finishing my paper just as a baby wakes up crying to be fed.

Even though I wish I had finished the program a long time ago, I can say for certain that I truly loved every single English class I took. I loved the Teaching Writing class with David, the Teaching Grammar class with Cornelia, the Shakespeare class with Dr. Rand, the 1920's class with Carol. But the courses that I really loved were those Lit Theory and Irish Lit classes from Gavin. Oh, I do love me some Irish lit.

One of the best traditions to come from these many, many years of graduate school is getting together every once in awhile with some of the folks I've met in Gavin's classes. Last night was one of those nights when a few of us were able to get together for dinner, and it was, as always, a lot of laughs. I was so surprised when I looked at the time to see that I already had to go home. Two hours flies by when you never run out of things to talk about.

As I drove home, listening to NPR's hilarious interview with Flight of the Conchords, I thought back on all the years of school.  It took a long time, longer than it should have. It took a lot of money, though quite well spent. It took a lot of effort, more so after having kids. But I did it.

I did it.

One more paper to go

Even though I finished my Teaching Grammar class last Friday, I still had this week to finish up the final papers. I had to write annotated bibliographies on Steering the Craft and Grammar Alive! (The exclamation point is part of the title; I'm not outraged over having to write annotated bibliographies.) I highly recommend both these titles to English teachers, but I especially recommend Steering the Craft if you are a writer or like to reading about the craft of writing. Ursula K. Le Guin, who lives in Portland, is so engaging and humorous in this book; plus, it's filled with all sorts of lovely examples of great writing from classic texts.

Like this quiet, gentle sentence from Huck Finn:

The first thing to see, looking away over the water, was a kind of dull line – that was the wood on t’other side – you couldn’t make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness, spreading around; then the river softened up , away off, and warn’t black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along, ever so far away – trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks – rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled-up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by-and-by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there’s a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t’other side of the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh, and sweet to smell, on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they’ve left dead fish laying around, gars, and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next you’ve go the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it!  --Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huck Finn

It is, as Le Guin writes, one of the greatest sunrises in all of literature. Read it aloud and you'll find that you can't yell it. There's a slow rhythm to it, a gradualness, like the sun coming up. If you skipped over reading the last paragraph to get to this one, I'm telling you in my best bossy teacherly voice, go back and read it. Seriously. It's amazing.

Speaking of sunrises, that's how long I have until my final paper--a case study of my own writing--is due. All this writing about my own writing is making me want to take a vacation from writing. I might have to spend the next two weeks just doing blog memes. That'll clear my head.

Okay. Back to work.

The Ordinary & The Extraordinary & The Bees

Angie, my former student who once had short hair but now has long and beautiful hair, tagged me for another Eight Random Things deal, and since I was responsible for keeping her up late many many many nights in high school reading obscure poetry and writing complicated literary analyses, then I will comply. I think it is, after all, the least I can do to make up for all the pain and suffering I caused her.

But, because I still have that slight tendency as a teacher to not do exactly as I'm told (because teachers like to boss people around much more than they like to be bossed around, that's why they become teachers don't you know?) then I'll take some liberties with the meme. I present to you Eight Random Things. Very random.

:one:

A year ago we got new neighbors on one side of our property, and they have the most unfortunate view of our backyard from their front door. Jason has even been to their house and looked over at our house from their property and cringed at what he saw. Evidently our neighbors have given up hope that we will fix our backyard, and just recently planted a whole row of arbor vitae to obscure their view. It is, I am quite sure, not to be interpreted as wanting privacy (there's a long discussion of why I think this is true) but rather because they'd rather look at a green leafy wall than a broken deck and pit of weeds.

Jason said later, "They'll be sorry when we get our backyard fixed." Oh yes, we'll show them.

Maybe it's true: good arbor vitae make good neighbors.

:2:

Jules and I went to the hospital yesterday to see the newest addition to the Inkling family. He is adorable, and has a mass of dark hair, and looks like his brother. It was a bit surreal to see Jules next to him because I still think of her as a tiny baby, but next to an actual tiny baby she looks like a giant baby. My sweet Inkling friend is doing well, and I'm just as happy as can be for her.

:tres:

Yesterday was additionally memorable because Jules got her first tooth! She's been such a happy baby about it, hardly even having a fever, so I was quite surprised to see that little chip of white poking out of her gums. At five months old, she's way ahead of where Sydney was, who didn't get her first tooth until she was almost eight months old. Sometime this weekend I'll have to get a picture of the new tooth (bottom right) and show it off in all its toothy glory.

:iv:

For as mentally exhausting as this grad class is, I thoroughly enjoy the class, my classmates and the professor. There are just five of us total--all women--which allowed me to feel comfortable taking Jules to class today since the babysitter wasn't able to make it. If anybody had passed by our classroom this morning, they not only would have seen the four of us students engaged in a discussion about thematic structure but also a professor holding a little sleepy baby. My professor is a mom, and from one mom to another, she knows what I'm going through. I find great relief and joy in that.

:E:

We're having issues with honeybees around our house. At first, I was confused as to why little honeybees were frantically buzzing against the screen door trying to get in the house. I'm not afraid of honeybees, but not often do I find them abandoning the great outdoors for a visit into my dining room. Turns out, we had a bee colony in our chimney. And those little bees were just trying to figure out how to get home. Sometimes the poor little bees would come down the chimney and beat against the glass door of the fireplace, which kind of of freaked me out a bit. I would come home and find dead honeybees all over the floor, where I presumed they must have died after escaping the chimney and then not finding their way back to the hive.

Despite the fact that I have seen X-Files and know about the secret alien plot to train honeybees to become fierce and infect people with smallpox, I still maintain my stance that they are normally gentle little creatures. However, we didn't want bees flying about our house, so we closed the draft on the chimney, and hoped they would find a new home. We think they did because we don't hear them buzzing in the chimney anymore, but maybe they're in stealth mode. Tricky.

:SIX:

Speaking of bees, the most memorable bee sting I ever got was one summer when I was probably around ten years old. My three siblings and I, along with my cousin Greg, were out in the corn field hoeing the weeds out of the corn rows. My littlest brother Jake bent down to pick something up, whereby a distracted Tyler accidentally chopped him in the head with a hoe. Much crying ensued, as well as quite a bit of blood and so Cousin Greg (only a few years older than me) picked up Jake and ran to our house across the field. I remember watching blood drip all over Greg's Ocean Pacific shirt, and as I ran after him I stepped on a honeybee. Fast forward five minutes to our house: Greg is in mild shock, Jacob is screaming, adults are inspecting the non-serious head wound, and I'm soaking my foot in the the kitchen sink failing miserably at being stoic about my own pain. Reflecting back on that moment I realize that I was probably--bee sting and all--still in a better spot than my mom who somehow managed that chaotic scene.

:7 1/2:

I was flipping through channels last night and heard the sound that warmed my heart: Mary's laugh. Who's Mary? She's a judge on "So You Think You Can Dance." It's back for its summer run, and I'm thrilled. I loved that show last summer, and I can't wait to watch it again this year. Dancers always impress me; that must be why I like the show so much. In fact, as I think about it, it's the only talent show I like watching. Hooray for that.

:Miscellaneous (poorly written) Trivia:

I've had my eyebrow pierced, biked the Oregon Coast (and camped along the way), spent a summer in Romania, picked up a hitchhiker (when I was in high school), and forgotten the words to more solos than I can count (including the National Anthem). I hate mushrooms, have low blood pressure, and haven't dyed my hair in many years. I'm feeling more stressed out now than I ever have before in my life, and were it not for my determination to keep in the habit of writing I would give up blogging for a couple months. I like Frosted Flakes, bagels with cream cheese, and a book I'm reading called Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin. Writing teachers should read it. I'm going to a wedding tomorrow, and am so looking forward to seeing Jaime in her wedding dress. Also, eating cake is fun too.

:the end of the Eight + a Few More Things:

I'll be back on Tuesday with a birthday post for my birthday girl.
Have a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend!

Couldn't have done it without you

Thanks SO MUCH to those of you who did the survey! Oh my word, you gave me so much great material. All your wonderful comments, and all your wonderful emails (Megan, Goslyn, Christie, Rachy, Rachelle, CCAP & CCAP's Boy, and Julie) made my paper a snap to do. Particularly helpful, since that was the only easy thing about my day! If you could have seen me this morning--sitting on the floor reading an academic article, nursing Jules on one side and pumping milk on the other--you would have thought I was one crazy momma for trying to take this class. Ah, yes. I am crazy.

If any of you missed out on the survey and still want to complete it, please feel free to send along your comments. I will use them in another paper I am doing later on this term. And yes, I'll still send you chocolate (because I firmly believe people needs chocolate in their life, except for a friend of mine who is deathly allergic to chocolate, in which case he needs Skittles in his life).

And now I'm going to bed because I am dog tired.

Blessings to you my grammarian friends.

If I say pretty please...

...would you take this survey? (EDITED TO ADD: Even if you know nothing about the English language, that's okay! I'm collecting the voice of the people. Even if you look at this survey and think, "ACK! I hate this stuff," I want to hear it. It's all part of the research.)

It's for my Teaching Grammar class, and the full assignment is due tomorrow but I can always use your answers for further assignments.

(No, I did not procrastinate. The bookstore ran of textbooks and didn't have one for me until today.)

You don't have to answer all the questions, whatever you have time for helps. I have to write two pages. Before 9 AM tomorrow. No rush or anything.

You can put your answers in the comments or email them to me.

The short question that I'd be so indebted to you for answering: What is grammar? What do you think most contributed to your knowledge of grammar?

The long question for which I will seriously send you a thank you card (FOR REAL!) if you can answer any of the following (specifically 5-11):

1. Gender
2. Years of schooling
3. Previous linguistics classes
4. How confident do you feel about your grammar? your writing skills?
5. (the following questions on a scale of 1-5; 1 is strongly disagree, 5 is strongly agree) Children should be taught grammar in school because that's how they learn to speak/write correctly?
6. The version of English used in school (i.e., Standard English) is the only proper dialect of English.
7. Inferior versions of English shouldn't be allowed in the classroom.
8. There's a right way to speak/write, and you can find out what it is by consulting dictionaries, et al.
9. The English language is in decline. Today's young people don't speak/write as grammatically as previous generations did. (insert finger wagging here)
10. It's the job of English and language arts teachers to teach students correct English.
11. Teachers should correct students who learn bad grammar at home.

The even longer answers for which I will send you chocolate or something:

1. What are some characteristics of good writing? What connection do you see between grammar and good writing?
2. How much grammar should the average person know?
3. Should grammar be taught in school? Why? Should it be a required subject for everyone?
4. Give some examples of "good" grammar and of "bad" grammar.

Okay, resume your regular blog surfing. I'm off to read this. Good times.

Deep breaths and counting to 10

Counting the grumpies out...

1

Because of a mix-up in communication, Sydney is staying tonight at Jason's parents' house. She was supposed to come home tonight, but...long story short...she isn't coming home until tomorrow. I'm okay with her being gone one night a week, but two weekends in a row she's been gone for two nights. I couldn't figure out while I was in such a foul mood tonight until Jason said, "You miss Sydney, huh?" That's it. I miss her. And it's made my evening less enjoyable.

2

I was already emotionally raw anyway because this morning I had to leave Jules for over 3 hours with a friend of mine. I've been dropping Jules off with a babysitter since she was four weeks old so that I could go teach, but that's easier. It's only for two hours/two days a week, and she's only a building away, playing happily in a dorm room while a small mob of college girls ooh and ah over her. If something were to happen, I'm right there. I can cancel class and that's that. Plus, she can go two hours without needing to be nursed.

But today was different. Different because it was longer, and so I had to pump out a bottle for her (which she refused to take). And different because I was driving away from her.
To class.
To sit for two hours.
To learn about graduate level linguistics.

Yep, there's not much that's easy about that, on any level.

3

When I came home from my class I had to meet with a contractor because this room has a leak in the ceiling. We had problems with the ceiling in this room a year after we moved in, and now we're hoping that the warranty for the work the company did is still good five years later. If not, we'll be calling the insurance company.

4

So with the potential for paying for the roof, as well as momentarily carrying two mortgages (long story), we were a bit stressed tonight when we realized we forgot to figure in the cost of my graduate class. I hate being stressed about money. Hate. it. Yes, I can choose not to be stressed about money, but you know, that'd be way too easy.

5

Fortunately, this is the last required graduate class we'll have to pay for. Jason finished his classes last summer, and in eight weeks I'll be finished with mine. Even though I have loved working on my master's degree, I will also love being done. When I started it (holy cow, six years ago!) I had no plans that it would take me this long. Figured I'd be done in three years. But then we ran out of money. Oh, and then I had a baby. Small things like that. I put off taking linguistics until the very end hoping that I would be able to get out of it and study something else (like...anything else), but they're sticklers over there and making me finish this degree with all its requirements.

6

However, for all my freaking-out-this-is-going-to-ruin-my-GPA worries, I actually totally and amazingly enjoyed class today. Despite being preoccupied with wondering if Jules was going to starve while I was gone, I liked what we were talking about. And that's saying something since the last time I took a linguistics class was 10 years ago, and I intentionally forgot everything I learned because I found it so horrid. One key difference between then and now: I love the professor. She's hilarious and passionate about linguistics, which makes the class a million times better than it could be in a different situation. After two hours I was not only willing to pay the $50 for the textbook, but also considering spending even more money on texts that aren't required. She's good.

7

The trouble with starting a class and having homework is that I won't be able to spend as much time reading Anna Karenina as I'd like. I joined this book club, but heavens to Betsy, I still haven't finished the required reading from three weeks ago. It helped that last week I got the translation Raehan recommended; it doesn't help that I inexplicably can't read novels while I'm nursing. For some reason, I'm drawn to magazine reading when I nurse Julianne. I admit that I have read through all the issues of ESPN (and they come twice a month) since she was born. I also read and re-read through Real Simple. April's issue has a great article about throwing away 50 things. It inspired me, and I'm going to do it.

8

I'll throw away those 50 things, even if it means waiting until school is out. Which happens to be in 2 weeks! I was rejoicing about the end of the school year, and my students said they found it very comforting that I was looking forward to summer vacation as much as they were. I said, "I'm looking forward to it MORE than you are!" I love teaching, but it's still something that weighs on me mentally. You wouldn't think so, since it's only for a few hours a week, but it doesn't take much for my brain to get tired.

9

No matter how tired my brain gets, though, I am cognizant enough to thank you for voting for my collage over at the Cozi blog, helping me in my pursuit for a new tshirt (sheesh...the lengths I go to to get new clothes!). I'll find out Monday if I win. *fingers crossed*

10

I know we're supposed to count our blessings, but sometimes I need to work up to that. Deep breaths. Drink tea. Close my eyes. Count to ten. Look at all the beautiful things around me, as well as consider all the lovely things here in the blogworld. Like how wonderfully nice you were for going over to Sarah's blog and giving her such positive comments on her hard work for the remodel. The nicest thing you can do for someone at their blog is to give them a supportive comment, and you folks did that. I love you people. You've encouraged me, and you've encouraged my family. Truly, on a scale of 1 to 10? You're a 10.

Smarting

Next Thursday I start teaching again. I'm back at teaching Fundamentals of Speech, although I'm only teaching one class instead of two because I wanted to go easy this semester. The other day I decided that I should plan out the syllabus and start thinking about lesson planning. While of course it is easier to just use the same curriculum over and over again, I'm all about reinventing the wheel (and what's that I tell my students about working smarter not harder?). I suppose it's because lesson planning is probably my most favorite part of teaching. Yes, I do love the students too. But if I had to pick an afternoon of lesson planning over an afternoon of actually teaching the lesson plan...hmm...it'd be a tough choice.

Anyway, I had to get myself in the academic mode. That is, I had to work hard to fight against my natural inclination to ponder the complexities of diapers and spit-up and whether or not hot-pink onesies can be washed with light-pink onesies. Back when Sydney was born, I experienced some serious brain drain, but this time around I have something to help keep the gray matter from turning to mush: Mental Floss.

Have you heard of this magazine? You haven't?? Well, you're missing out. The mag's tagline is "Where Knowledge Junkies Get Their Fix," and I have to say that it's totally true. I got Jason a subscription to it last year, but I confess that I enjoy reading it as much as he does. Sure, you may think that any magazine that features a regular column by Ken Jennings (he of Jeopardy fame) is way too nerdy for you, but it's not. Well, maybe it is. But still. How could I possibly not love a magazine that sells t-shirts featuring Easter Island, Pavlov's Dog, Alfred Nobel, or Lady Macbeth Hand Soap?

The magazine is the perfect blend of humor and snark and sarcasm and levity. For instance, the January-February issue has an A-Z "Where are they now?" article catching us all up to speed on hanging chads, Ken dolls, Russian nukes and Manuel Noriega (he's at the Miami Federal Correctional Institution, btw). It also has an amazing article called "13 Photographs that Changed the World." I'd buy the issue just for this article alone.

But beware: you may discover some knowledge you'd rather not know. Like a link to Foreign Policy's "Killer Product" list (which I read after consuming a bag of chocolates from Africa...boo). At least I did avoid buying/receiving gold for Christmas. Lucky me.

So, now I've revealed my inner-nerd obsession, but after doing a cover-to-cover read through of the magazine I have to tell you I whipped out an awesome syllabus, complete with this totally brilliant idea about how to approach impromptu speeches. Furthermore, I was even inspired to stay up late reading selections from The Communication Teacher.

Coincidence?

I think not.

Of course, I also stayed up late wondering how many poopie diapers I changed that day. So, I guess it all evens out in the end.

Zip zapped

I finished my class. Yee haw. Yesterday I gave my class presentation (I didn't do myself any favors by telling the professor that I teach a college speech class). This morning I finished all the journal readings. And at 12:53 today I emailed off my annotated bibliography and my final paper (seven minutes before they were due).

Because I'm giving myself a virtual award for getting through this, I'd like to thank my husband for being the full-time parent these last three weeks. Also my appreciation extends to my parents and Jason's parents who had Sydney for four whole days (the longest I've been without her). Thanks to my darling daughter for not being bitter that I abandoned her for schoolwork.

Also, thanks to Snickers candy bars for giving me that extra protein that I needed every day in class. Finally, a bit of thanks to NPR for keeping me updated on the Middle East crisis while I drove to and from school (although no thanks to the Middle East for having a crisis in the first place).

My immediate response after finishing my paper was to run around to all your blogs and start commenting (I have hundreds of entries to read...whew!). But only after two posted comments I realized that my brain needs a break from thinking and my fingers need a break from typing. Yeah, so let's call this a vacation from my vacation even though we all know that graduate classes aren't really a vacation and being away from the writing that I love more than anything also isn't a vacation.

But a vacation from the vacation makes it sound like it's all happiness, and since I'm finished with my class, then I get to say what's happy and what's not.

Oh, and if you're taking a vacation from your vacation too, at least come back here on July 31st because then I'll have ultrasound pictures to show off and we'll know if we got a little boy creature or a little girl creature. (I'll call this last paragraph my shameless ploy at getting you to stay interested in future installments, kind of like the end of the newest Pirates of the Caribbean movie (seriously! did they think we needed a reason to watch Depp, Knightley, and Bloom in another movie? is resolution just too passe these days?))

Okay, well, I think I'm going to eat some applesauce and take a nap. I'll be back next week, after our weekend of triple-digit weather. Yippee.

Online

I'm up to my eyeballs in homework for my Internet for Educators class. Too much computer time rots my brain, kills my back, and I think my hips are starting to widen from my buns smashed to this chair. Perilous. I'm currently working on a WebQuest. Had to go here to even know what it is. I'm still trying to decide if I should just use an old assignment I used to teach (about the Tudor period) and will never teach again or make up a new one that I might, in some theory, use in the future (about Irish literature, of course). The decision would be easier if I wasn't such a stickler for usefulness.

The whole concept of using the Internet as a teaching tool is, I think, a bit over-rated. Especially since a lot of students don't know how to determine if a site is credible (or for that matter even know how to search for information. Jason had students search for information by typing in their search topic in the address bar, and then adding .com after it, as in "countriesinolympics.com"). I bet a lot of kids think that Wikipedia is as good as a real encyclopedia. Sure, the wikipedia experiment is working, but I wouldn't call it a pillar of accuracy.

I could go on, but that WebQuest is calling my name.

We're going to Sunriver this weekend for a little vacation with some friends, so no posting until next week.

Have a nice President's Day weekend. If you're in the Presidential spirit, you should read A Team of Rivals about President Lincoln. He's my favorite president.

Interview from the Moon

At some point today I will post my weekly ramblings about the smallest person who takes up the largest portion of our house (as well as go to the library, eat lunch, do laundry, write magnetic poetry...). But first things first.

The lovely Meg over at Che La Luna (whose art I love love love! and don't go a week without thinking of this illustration she did for the Tsunami Relief) sent me some questions, which I shall answer while finishing off my bowl of Grape Nuts.

Five Completely Inane Questions:

1. Apart from childbirth and marriage, what is the single most important thing you've done in your life? (And my thanks to Meg for allowing me to skip past the obvious...)

I suppose it's a bit of a tie: the non self-absorbed me says the most important is having taught scores of students to write and expose them to literature, as well as taken them to London and Paris to see the grandness that is Europe. I see the effects of this as they have gone on to college and jobs and it makes me proud. The self-absorbed me says the most important was the paper I wrote for my Irish lit class which earned the comment "best in the class" from the professor. It did wonders for my psyche that I could write a kick a** paper and be a good mom.

2. What are three cd's you couldn't live without?

When I first read this question I thought it said five, and so labored over picking five. But three? Yikes. Okay. In no particular order:

• Sense and Sensibility soundtrack. Perfect for melancholy, inspiration and peace.
• U2's "Joshua Tree." I really like U2, but I pick this one mostly because whenever I hear them I think of my husband who is a huge fan.
• The CD mix I burned of hymns, because it reminds me of my family, my faith, and my life with music. Plus, I know all the words and can really belt out some of the tunes.
• And just for kicks I should also include my all time favorite feel-good CD "Pulse" which is a mix of dance tunes. It's so hard to be grumpy when 'Rhythm is a Dancer' is cranking through the house.

3. If you could have one "do-over" (erase one mistake, right a wrong) what would it be and why?

For reasons I don't even remember, my best friend from high school and I parted ways after high school. I wish that I would have been kinder, more loyal, more forgiving, more everything because a best friend is hard to come by (and I never had another best friend after her). She also would helped me through the rough time I had in college.

4. Think way back now, what is your earliest memory?

I have a hard time distinguishing real memories and memories that I have conjured up because of photographs. I have one vivid memory of going to the sea lion caves on the Oregon coast when I was three, and being scared to look over the edge of the railing at the barking sea lions below. It was very noisy, smelled like fish, and was cold and damp. I remember holding onto my mom's hand and watching my dad take pictures.

I remember visiting another cave when I was four (what's up with all these cave memories? Must be why I'm afraid of the dark). We were on a road trip to North Dakota, and we stopped to go visit some cave that had bats in it. I remember being terrified a bat would fly out and bite me, but my dad told me to "be brave" and wear his hat, which would protect me.

5. Describe for me what a perfect day would be for you.

Even though I love my home and my town, I have to say the perfect day would be spent at my uncle's vacation house in Reno. Jason wouldn't have his allergies, and I wouldn't worry about the piles of laundry or umpteen projects waiting for me. We all would sleep in, after having had a full night's sleep (which I haven't had in a year and a half!). Jason would make me apple pancakes while Sydney and I went for a morning run. We'd go out for coffee, walk around downtown Reno by the river. For lunch we'd go to Bento's, a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant, and eat tacos and enchiladas sprinkled with too much cilantro. The afternoon would be spent back at the house, admiring the view, watching the wild horses run around the foothills, reading a good book. Dinner at the house: bbq'd steaks, bake potatoes, Black Butte Porter, blueberry cobbler. Watch Finding Neverland and fall asleep to the sound of the creek running behind the house.

And a 6th, because Meg likes to bend the rules- What is your one absolutely-can't-live-without-it beauty product?

John Frieda's hair serum.

Thanks Meg, for such great questions! And now my turn to pass along the interviewing goodness.

The Official Interview Game Rules

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Top o' the Mornin' to ya

(and that's Top o' the Muffin to you Seinfeld fans)

May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping. --Irish proverb

We won't be having a typical Irish celebration around here, but I do feel particularly lucky that I got the paper done for my Modern Irish Lit class on time. (HUGE thanks to Sarah who came down on Tuesday to watch Sydney while I typed away.) Hoping my mad writing skills earn me an A.

If you're looking for some Irish lit to get you in the proper St. Patrick's Day mood, here's a few suggestions:

• The Anchor Book of New Irish Writing
• Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, by Roddy Doyle
• The Inland Ice, by Eilis Ni Dhuibhne
• The Deposition of Father McGreevy, by Brian O'Doherty
• The Blackwater Lightship, by Colm Toibin
• Reading in the Dark, by Seamus Deane
• Grace Notes, by Bernard Maclaverty

Have a wonderfully lucky day!

Inspiration

Not too often does literary theory inspire me. Don't get me wrong, I love it. I do. It's the stuff that keep me awake at night tossing and turning. But it doesn't exact move passions in the soul.

'The attention which post-colonial theory pays to factors which disrupt, undermind and speak back to monolithic cultural structures surely makes this possible, not only in terms of gender and class, but in the competing ways in which notions of ethnicity and authenticity are constructed.'

Certainly I like Colin Graham's 1995 Irish Studies Review article as much as the next theory nerd, but it doesn't, you know, set my heart a flutter.

On the other hand...

Every once in awhile I catch something that sticks with me. That something that makes me nod my head, moves me to write stars and exclamation points in the margin, inspires me to use the pink highlighter instead of the regular yellow one.

'I don't compare myself to the dead. I hardly compare myself to the living. I would hope my writing is my own.'
--Anne Enright

I like that. A lot.

Week 40: Nine Months

Lately I've been trying to come to grips with -- for lack of a better phrase -- my diminished capacity. The lack of sleep, compounded with my current propensity for stress and inability to multi-task, has forced me to reconsider areas that used to be personal strengths. I have been keenly aware of it since I started working on the play. I've directed and assistant directed nearly a dozen productions. And while I've had various difficulties with some of the shows (particularly having patience with cast members), I usually don't have trouble being creative or possessing some sort of artistic vision for the show. This time, however, I am hard pressed to come up with anything constructive to tell the actors. I sound dangerously similar to phrases I might read on student evaluated papers: Good job! or, Neat! or, I really like that shirt you're wearing today!

I'm trying to keep a positive outlook about the whole thing, not get discouraged or depressed, especially since the director isn't bothered by it. However, an even greater task looms before me this week.

Next Wednesday is the last day of my Irish Lit class. I'm dreading it for two reasons: one, I really enjoy the class and it'll be sad to have it end; and two, I have a 10-page paper due that I still don't have a topic for. And I'm beginning to get a little bit nervous about that. Normally I'd be way ahead of the game by now. Have the topic. Have my sources. Have an outline of what to write about. Wouldn't be panicking too much knowing that I could whip out probably 7 of those pages in a few hours. This time though, this time it's different. I'll have to wait until  Sydney is in bed before I'll have those few consecutive hours to write, and nighttime is not my best time. I hardly trust myself to write when I'm tired, which incidentally is pretty much all the time. I'd wake up the next morning realizing my thesis was something like 'James Joyce had absolutely no influence over modern Ireland today.' *Shudder*

There are some topics I could write a lot about. Maybe even somewhat intelligently.

Okay, class. You had nine months of pregnancy, and now nine months of parenting. Compare and contrast. Paper long enough to sufficiently cover the topic.

Thesis: While pregnancy and parenting share common factors such as disrupted sleep patterns, episodes of worrying, and hormonal fluctuations, the key difference is that having a child requires considerably more time and energy. Additionally, this child is insusceptible to reason and all manner of pleading, begging, and other forms of coercion, refusing to coordinate their schedule with yours.

fifty pages later...

Conclusion: Despite the difficulties of parenting, most subjects find the rewards of parenting to surpass any that pregnancy may give (ex: preferred seating on the bus). Furthermore, that which makes parenting hard work (ie: the blessed child) also brings the most rewards, specifically a love so great you feel as if your heart will burst.

Now, why can't someone assign me that paper?

Week 37: A Week Later

I thought with this super duper wireless internet I'd have all this extra time to post and chat and dawdle on the computer. You know, waste the day away writing pithy sayings or whatever while Sydney plays contentedly on the floor. And here I didn't even get a chance to post on Valentine's Day (hope you all had a lovely one). Sydneykins and I met Jason for a Valentine's lunch in the Starbucks cafe at Safeway (a grocery store). Not exactly romantic, but any meal with a latte is a good meal for me. It was the best we could do since he had a basketball meeting at night. (Speaking of which, his last regular game was Friday. But his team qualified for league playoffs, and have a good chance of state playoffs. Oh....*sigh*... goody.) 

Yes, so where'd all my extra time go? Maybe it's because I gave up chocolate that's made me delusional. What's that, you say? Who's talking about giving up chocolate?

That'd be me. The one who eats chocolate every day.

Well, after reading several of my favorite blogs write about what they were giving up for Lent I got inspired. I'm not Catholic, but I figured I could do it anyway. I started a little bit late (Thursday evening) because I hadn't really thought about observing Lent this year. Plus, I had to make sure that I cleaned out every bit of chocolate in my house. No sense dooming myself from the start.

But enough about chocolate...more important stuff has been going on. Like the fact that I got through my presentation in my Irish lit class. I gave a 25 minute lecture on this article last Wednesday (about the music motif in the novel Grace Notes). Normally presentations are no big deal for me, but considering how emotional I've been since losing Gramps, I was afraid I would have trouble focusing. The professor of the class gave me the option of presenting later, but I just needed to get through it and be done with it.

And while I was working hard on my presentation -- feeling stressed out, feeling emotional, and wondering how I would make it through -- I paused to discover little miss playing peek a boo by herself.

She even does it while she's sitting in her car seat. And if that weren't cute enough, on Saturday she learned to clap. She will even stand all by herself and clap...for about six seconds before tumbling over backward.

Of course, when I took her to the mall yesterday to get her pictures taken she would have nothing to do with her pink peek-a-boo blanket. Fortunately we got a nice shot of her showing off those two teeth coming in (which I'll post later).

All right, homework to do. Baby to feed. Laundry to fold.

Wonderful Wednesdays

Since I don't belong to the working world then weekends don't hold any real significance for me. Sure, it's when Jason is around more (and that counts for a lot), but he often has games on Saturday (she said with bitterness) and Sunday is full of churchy things. With that said, I think Wednesday is my favorite. What's there not to love about Wednesday?

First of all, I get to make my weekly pilgrimage over to WOU for my Irish lit class. Yesterday we discussed short stores written by Irish women. Good topic. Good stories. We learned how to say "How are you?" and "I am fine/well" in Irish. I don't have my notes in front of me, so I'll have to type up those phrases later.

But the best part about yesterday's class was afterward when the prof and us grad students got together and hung out. Even though I was really tired (having stayed up late the night before finishing my homework!), it was so fun to kick back, have a beer and talk about things both in and outside of the academic world. Naturally, we should have all been drinking Guinness, but the establishment didn't have it on tap. So I (along with most of the others) settled for the next best thing: Black Butte Porter. (You beer drinkers who are outside the Pac NW are seriously missing out on this fine beer. In fact, my brother in law who lives in Massachusetts regularly laments about the absence of Black Butte over there.) All in all, a grand time.

While I was away, my oh so thoughtful husband recorded Alias for me. We loved the first couple seasons, but last season was so bleh. I'm hoping the series steps it up a notch and pulls through for this year. Normally on Wednesday nights we watch Alias and tape West Wing (which also has had some bleh seasons, but I'm liking some of the new characters they have introduced recently); that way, in a pinch we can watch the taped West Wing even if Sydney is still up. If we tape Alias, then we have to wait until she goes to bed because she can't watch that (too violent). So, I missed West Wing last night altogether, but hooray for me the professor of my class taped it and so I'll borrow that from him.

Another wonderful thing about Wednesday this week is that Leslie over at Rubber-Sol announced the great news: She's having a girl! She also posted her sonogram photos, and they are quite amazing. Hooray hooray for Leslie.

And the other good thing about Wednesdays? It's garbage day! I don't know about you, but I just love it when the garbage truck comes and takes away all my trash. It's like magic. I wake up Wednesday morning and poof! all those smelly diapers and rotten food and yucky trash are gone. For a few brief moments my house is trash free. It's a nice feeling.

Dia annseo isteach

Okay, I know I've mentioned before that I'm taking a Contemporary Irish Literature class. It's an elective class to fulfill credit requirements for my grad degree (I'm getting my M.S. in English Education). I've finished all the education classes (hooray! they are boring!) and now all I have left is English electives. This is a dream for me. The class I'm taking this term meets every Wednesday from 4:30--7:50. I know sitting in a classroom for three and a half hours doesn't sound all that fun to some of you, but can I just say after tonight's class...I'm in literary heaven. I LOVED the class. It was as good as I had hoped for. Terms were flying through the air. Multivocalic. Metempsychosis. It was myth making, conflict producing, postcolonialist, postmodernist, postfeminist *sigh* perfection. I'm totally in my element, especially since I've had the professor for three other classes, one of which was a James Joyce class. We spent the night reading and discussing poems by Eavan Boland (Ireland's current preeminent female poet) and Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill (most widely translated poet in Irish of this century) (pronounced NOO-la Nee GO-nal). I won't bore you with the details, unless you ask me, because I know most of you couldn't care two pittance for Irish literature. But it is GRAND stuff. You'd think with my green heart, my fair skin, and my red hair that somewhere in my blood there would be just a bit of Irish, but nope. In fact, I'm nearly half English (which is ironic if you know Irish history). Nevertheless, I'm hoping to write my grad thesis on Irish literature, hoping maybe I'll even sneak in a "research" trip to Ireland.

As for this post's title...well, every week we will learn an Irish phrase (Irish now being the preferred term instead of Gaelic). Today's phrase was Dia annseo isteach. (Pronounced JEE-un sho ISH-chockh). It means: God save all here.

Oh boy, the next nine weeks are going to be so much fun!