Light and Momentary

Head Above Water, Briefly

This week has been crazy:  four sick children, one sick mama with a tender ankle, one fifth birthday party, one malfunctioning dishwasher, one broken lawnmower, one $622 car repair, and one malfunctioning computer fan leading to a frequently overheated and consequently cantankerous computer. 

At the same time, I had a book to finish for my summer class and a politically sticky paper to draft for same.  My advisor asked me to be a co-author on a really cool paper she's writing, which is flattering and a great learning experience but a ton of work, and she wanted the draft of my section by tomorrow.  And my first-year research project has picked up steam again after several weeks on my project director's back burner.  This week we hammered out the last of the rough spots in the methods chapter, and she emailed my committee members to schedule a meeting.  I just printed out their copies of my first three chapters, 30 pages into which I have distilled many, many hours of reading, thinking, writing.

I still have to work some more tonight on the paper for my summer class, but just for a brief minute I am feeling a sense of accomplishment. 

[waves happily, returns nose to grindstone]

The Foot Post

Left foot
left foot
right foot
right

Careful
if you
run at
night.

A Theory

My pal AL stayed with us this weekend and I miss her already.  We see each other a couple of times a year but I wish it could be more.

She is expecting her fifth child; her first four are roughly the same ages as mine.  The thing that struck me this time as I watched her with them is how much she seems to enjoy them.  Here's my theory:  I think maybe that's why the kids are so enjoyable.

If you watch mothers interacting with their kids at a playground, you'll see all kinds of things -- annoyance, amusement, tolerance, enthusiasm, and the occasional outraged bellow.  I am thinking that kids learn about who they are from the way their parents react to them.  It's not news that overindulgent parents raise kids who think they deserve to be indulged; abusive parents teach kids to accept abuse and eventually to abuse others.  But I am thinking about the shadings within the continuum we'd all call normal.

You don't have to spend much time with kids to see them rise -- or sink -- to meet others' expectations.  Do irritable mothers raise more irritating kids? [she asks ruefully]  More subtly, I am thinking about my recent frustration with a child who is too focused on cracking jokes.  Does a parent's focus on retelling funny kid stories lead kids to strive for funny even when funny isn't appropriate?

Now I know that a person can get into trouble in a hurry with mother determinism.  If you give yourself too much blame for what your kids do, you will feel a little crazy; too much credit can leave you intolerably smug.  In either case, you're likely to be wrong:  sometimes they just are who they are.  Still, I have to think that it's better for kids to spend their days with someone who mostly seems to enjoy them than with someone who is forever grumping, "Why are you forever fighting with your brother?"

Unsurprisingly, it's easier to enjoy them when I am not saying, "I'll be off the computer in a few minutes," so I'll wrap it up.  Tell me what you think about my theory, please.

Briefly

Hello, neglected readers, I am making the most of my time between terms.  I am caught up on photo albums up to Christmas and have been knitting up a storm, and I have questions for the knitters out there.  I am finishing up a child's V-neck cardigan, and I need to add the front band.  If I do one long strip of K1P1 (up from the bottom left, around the neck, and back down the right side), will it work?  Will it have the elasticity to go up the V?  It's a pretty gentle V but I'd hate to make a hash of it in the finishing stage. 

Second, do you have a favorite top-down sock pattern, sized for a child?  I am astonished at the variety of online sock patterns, not a one of which says, "Here! Knit me! I am straightforward and pretty."  I am using fingering weight yarn on size 2 dpns, and yes I do know it's a little unusual to start knitting your sock and then find a pattern.

Third, what's a beginning knitter?  I was in my neighborhood yarn store talking to the owner about buying a little gift for a friend.  She said, "Is your friend a beginner too?" at which I opened and closed my mouth in a fetching fish-like fashion.  I don't have a truckload of knitting experience, but I didn't think I was exactly a beginner.  I taught myself to knit in 1985, so if I'm still a beginner that's a little discouraging.  What say you?  Years of experience?  Fearlessness in the face of funky patterns?  Quality of the finished product? Size of the yarn stash?  What earns a knitter her "no-longer-a-newbie" label?

Return of the Rebus

D-O-N-E done, that's me.

My final was much harder than expected, causing me some moments of near-panic about forty minutes from the end.  I got hung up in a 25-point problem -- the wording of the follow-up questions made it clear that I shouldn't have found a significant group difference.  How often does it happen that a too-small p value is the problem?

Finally it dawned on me that I needed to move on pronto, at which point I about choked realizing how much I needed to get done in 40 minutes.  Bad planning for sure.  But it's over, and I lived to tell the tale.  I will be disappointed if I blew my A -- I would have to have bombed pretty badly.

This semester we spent much more time than last semester in skiing off-piste, learning how to go beyond the straight-up drop-down menu options in SPSS.  I can't say that I'm exactly at home in the syntax windows, but I've gone from utterly flummoxed to vaguely grumpy.  We'll call it progress.

Last night I was planning to put my feet up, start Barnaby Rudge again, go to bed early.  Alas, it was not to be.  Pete went to bed around 8 but was unexpectedly wakeful later.  It was a short night, and I was grumbly this morning.  "I know, Mom," said Alex.  "How about if tonight I take Petey, and you can relax?"  How sweet is that?  Sweet enough to stop the grumbling, for sure. 

Joe wants to wear a pair of too-big shorts, and approximately twice per paragraph I have been called away from the 'puter to implement a new idea for keeping them up.  Pinning is unacceptable, in all its many permutations.  Duct tape was an interesting idea that led to intense frustration.  He finally gave up and is wearing clothes that fit.  We are heading out in a little bit, to enjoy some sunshine and pick up scrapbook pages. 

What are the odds that I can finish Barnaby Rudge and catch up on photo albums in the nine days before my summer class begins?  Probably slim.  But a mom's reach must exceed her grasp, or what's a heaven for?  (Andrea del Sarto, scrapbooker.)

Plus ça change

When I was an undergrad I would always, always find urgent housecleaning tasks to do when I had urgent school deadlines.  Complicated paper due tomorrow?  Laundry calls!  Midterm coming up?  Better mop.  It hasn't been done since last finals week, after all.  (Any partners in procrastination out there?)

I am on a tear today.  The hampers are empty; the bathmats and diapers have been washed as well.  I scoured the stovetop, and then vacuumed and mopped and started cleaning windows.  I am casting longing looks at my giant mending pile.

Final tomorrow? What final tomorrow?

Sundry

The lovely Arwen linked to my last post and caused quite a bump in my traffic.  Hello, anybody new who is still around after my week of not posting. 

I have a draft post in the works on daycare, but it probably won't get finished until after my statistics final.  Instead of studying this weekend, I made the trek to Chicago for a friend's fortieth birthday party at Wrigley Field.  Very fun -- Cubs won in the tenth.

Elwood has known the birthday guy since third grade, and several of their same-aged pals were there too.  The wives were talking about the work that went into planning a surprise party at Wrigley.  Elwood is turning forty in early December, which is going to be a terrible time for me to organize anything.  Perhaps I can throw a regression party, where our math-geek friends come and work together on a final project for the class I'll be taking in regression techniques?  Elwood thinks math is fun, after all.

I'll have to figure something out.  But I am typing on a keyboard with an intransigent s key, so tonight I will keep it brief.