Friday, July 31, 2015

Lazy, or: On Working

I am full of thoughts but never have any time to type on a real computer and  between the tiny touch screen keyboard and the inconsistently rogue autocorrect.... it's all an exercise in frustration, is what I'm saying.

However.  Onward!

There is a job opening at Mountain U for someone doing science career stuff.  They want someone with an advanced degree, lots of professional contacts, and job experience outside academia.

They also want someone full time.

I know full well that predicting how I WILL feel in a few to many years is essentially impossible.  Will I want a full time job in two years?  I don't know.  Right now I would say no.  I want a part time job for forever.  I am lazy, I don't want to work full time, I don't have to work full time, and I'd rather have no job than work full time (however, I haaaaate not having a job and what  I really want is part time).

I am teaching one lab at Pseudo Military U next semester.  In an incomprehensible move, the chair posted the job for this fall in January, when Sweetpea was three weeks old.  Clearly he was trying to hire the no-PhD dude who replaced me (state hiring laws would make it difficult to hire the less qualified candidate).  So.... what the hell was that?  But then he asks me if I'd be interested in teaching a lecture some time. As in a whole class.  Again, what the hell was that?  In an ideal world I'd be perfectly happy to adjunct a few labs a semester for forever (see: lazy).  But... there's no guarantees, because adjuncting plus a What The Hell chair equals confusion.

While (standard disclaimer!) I love my kids, I still don't want to be around them all the time.  Nobody wants to be around the same people all the time.  Sometimes people just want to go to the bathroom alone and have, like, three hours in a row to NOT mediate any he annoyed me/ he hit me/ now we're both waking up the baby.

But I'm still too lazy to take a full time job.  (By which I mean, I personally find it extremely difficult, tiring, and stressful to juggle two full time jobs, three children, and the inevitable illness and sleeplessness that come along with the children, and we can get by without the income.)

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Family Trips

Have you ever noticed that the more children you have, the more travel becomes like unto packing up a circus, tent and all?  I think we might actually haul a crib mattress, a pack and play, two fans, and a tent to my uncle's house.  I haven't been there since 2002 and I have absolutely zero memory of where I slept.

It always seems like a good idea until you have to start stuffing the minivan!

(Still promises to be more fun than the Greatly Tense Wedding of 2015.  Did I tell you that due to my scheduling failure, it's on the first day of school?  Mother of the year! But also, whatever, it's first grade.)

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Le Misanthrope

Me: "N and I went to this blueberry farm where the guy retired and decided to put in 1000 blueberry bushes!  It was GREAT."
My dad: "Mmmmm."
Me: "You could totally do that when you retire."
My dad: "But.... there would be PEOPLE.  I would have to TALK to them."
Me: "Never mind."

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Allergies

Our otherwise very good family doctor said to give "limited" amounts of nuts to the baby before age one.  Well, I'd already given her peanuts, eggs,  and cow dairy, to no ill effects.  Also sesame, assorted fruits and  veggies, wheat, and corn.  Probably soy too though I wasn't really trying.

Yesterday I have her a tiny amount of ground cashews.

Ten minutes later her eyes swelled up so much she couldn't see out of one of them.

Since she was breathing fine, I ran home and gave her a half-dose of benadryl (check with your doctor, naturally, but the dosage I was given was 1.25 mg/kg)*.  She threw up twice (before the benadryl, fortunately)  She got a terrible itchy rash from head to toe.  Her eyes eventually de-puffed, but she still had  some classic 'allergic shiners'.  This is actually quite worrying- contact dermatitis is one thing but signs of a systemic reaction are much more serious.  However, as she continued to breathe fine, I didn't take her anywhere to be observed at painful length, remonstrated with at tedious length, and given benadryl for the baby.  Oh, and a $350 bill to boot.

Intellectually, I know that my nearly seven month old with very mild eczema had nothing going on to tell me to run away from the tree nuts.  Waiting five more months probably wouldn't have prevented this and - based on actual good prospective research- might have made any underlying predispositions worse.

I still feel like a terrible mother.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I seem to have eaten something unfortunate myself....

*True story: a colleague and his wife once walked into the ER here HOLDING her epi-pen and requested someone help them administer it because they just wanted to make sure they did it right.  25 minutes of sitting around later, they did it themselves and walked out, because NOBODY HELPED THEM.  (Yes, none of this was a good idea.) So if I'm not having a real emergency, you can bet I stay faaaaarrrrr away. 

Thursday, July 16, 2015

And now for something completely different.

This week the lovely Nicole visited all the way from the far-off northern wilds of Cold City. It was a timely reminder that even if your family is nuts, at least you can still have the family you choose as part of your life.  We picked blueberries!  (We nearly drove by it but fortunately the proprietor waved as we were deciding if those bushes off in the distance were berry bushes.  It's kind of up a road in the middle of nowhere.) We wandered around town and drank coffee and went to the local gardens/park and mocked the Famous Dead Person Effigy in town and saw a surprisingly good zydeco concert at the library.  We made tamales and tested all the Wedding Recipes and I got pruning advice for my friend C's drastically overgrown fruit trees.  We harvested onions (and got bitten by ants!) and cooed at the baby a lot.  It was great.

Now to make the Wedding Recipes and survive the Family Wedding Experience....

Sunday, July 05, 2015

Dear Sister,

Six weeks ago our PARENTS told me you're leaving the country.  Since then I called you 20 times and got one lame message back. On the land line.  I was, predictably, not home.  You didn't tell me when you were leaving, or why, or anything about it , or even if you're coming back for the so-delightful wedding.  As far as I can tell, you don't want to talk to me.  Maybe you were afraid I'd  be mad (I wasn't, though I'm righteously pissed off NOW) or sad or upset (yes). But instead you hid from your choices like a child lying about who knocked over the milk. All your magical thinking won't make this better.  Instead, you've left me to conclude that you don't care enough about our relationship to put any effort into keeping it up. Or maybe you just don't trust me enough to tell me important things about your life.  Or maybe you've decided I'm not important enough for you to take the time to tell about your life.  I know you're at our parents' house doing very little for three weeks and you still can't make the time to call.  You can't take the time to say goodbye to my children, who are completely bewildered by your leaving.  And I can't think of a single kind way to open this subject with you.  Either you're acting like a naive child, or you're trying to hurt me, or you don't care about me in this situation.

So good job taking your questionable but legitimate adult decision about your life and turning it into a relationship-destroying disaster. Keep up the good work and you'll save me a fortune in postage and phone calls!

-In all seriousness, I kep trying to write her an email and they all come out as "I don't know why you can't be bothered to talk to me your own self but... What the hell? Is this what you want?  You want to piss me the hell off and never talk to me again?  Do you even give a fuck?  I can't tell."

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

In Response to My Spouse,

who woke me up at 3:11 AM to ask "Do you hear the baby?"

How kind of you to ask!  In case you were wondering, that is homicidal rage on my face.  Also there is furious weeping.  YES.  Yes, I have already gotten up three times with the baby- who didn't stop nursing until 10:15 and yes, I did try to unhook her - and NO I do NOT want you to wake me up right after I FINALLY manage to sleep through the screaming.

(Fortunately he did not wake me up again at 8 when leaving for work, which saves me the trouble of filing for divorce.)

(This is why I didn't want another baby.  While excellent and adorable in her baby way, Sweetpea does not grasp such important concepts as bedtime and I do very poorly on a year-and-counting of very little sleep.)