Q&A

Blog: So, Ilnizzzah, school is out and summer is in! Can you tell us a little bit about your plans for the summer months?

Ilnizzzah: Yeah, well, I'm not sure. I mean, I think (am almost certain) we are moving this summer, leaving ye ole lonely road and heading north. I got accepted into a PhD program for the Fall and I'm...

Blog: Wow! Congrats, but a PhD? Up North? With a 1 year old babe? That is a mighty big step and it sure is aways away from Rivah City.

Ilnizzzah: Yeah. I don't think the distance will bother me too much. It already feels quite lonely here and my family is only like 30 minutes from my house. As for Babe, she actually forces me to be a good student, to prioritize and to know what's really important in life. So I'm not...

Blog: I see. Well, yes, but have you thought about Babe not seeing her grandparents as much? That'll be mighty hard on them and...

Ilnizzzah: We are only about 7 hours away and they are willing to drive up or take a train. So I'm hopeful that either way, we'll get to see them once a month. I've no doubt it will be hard, because we are all so accustomed to seeing one another like every day, but this past year has turned everything upside down on its ass, with my granny passing, General just passed, our move(s), things just aren't they way they used to be. I'm hoping this move will bring about a change for the better and I'm sure that you.....

Blog: Yes, change, but you know, sometimes you don't handle change too well. Seems that it stresses you out, in the past I've thought often that you are a creature of habit who...

Ilnizzah: Well, creatures can also learn new behaviors as well, you have to in order to survive. There are a lot of things I've done in the past year that I'd never done or thought of doing before. I'm game for this.

Blog: So you think this is just a 'game'? You do realize you are asking your family to relocate, move out of a house, and...

Ilnizzzah: You certainly are a sprite one. NO. I don't think of this as a game, but I do realize that sometimes you can't plan everything and when a plan unfolds for you, if it feels right and can better your condition and your family's sometimes you have to trust and proceed as the way comes.

memorial weekend in review.

She's baaaaaaaaaaacccccccccck.

After almost two years MIA my period returned yesterday. I know, maybe too much info, but this has been a blog where I've tapped into a little bit of everything, from school to work to pregnancy, so there. Ha.

I can't say I missed it at all, that's also one of the other side perks of breastfeeding, you don't have to worry about your period coming back so soon, but now the Babe is munching on mac-n-cheese and sipping juice more each day. She only nurses at night.

The babe is growing up!

December 15. 1997-May 25. 2007

We lost another beloved member of our family. Our dog, General, died early on Friday morning, May 25. 2007

We loved him dearly.

My trip to Walmart

Tonight we had to go by Walmart to pick up random things (wood chips for the grill, light bulbs, diapers for Babe, laundry detergent, you get the picture) and I just took a moment to notice how amazing Walmart actually is.

Where else can you go and buy a Virgin of Guadalupe yard statue, chicken gizzards, hemp string, cheese, and alcohol. Not that I have anything against any of the above mentioned items, I almost got the Virgin statue, bought the hemp and cheese. No go on the gizzards and alchie.

Babe enjoyed herself, she's such a people-watcher, much like her mama. I have more fun sitting in the parking lot than actually going in. My bro and I usually make up stories about the people we say, including narrator's comments, conversation, and setting descriptions. I've done this for as long as I can remember, always making up stories about people that I see, dreaming about what I think their lives are like, what their problems might be.

Sometimes I want to put those things down on paper, just create short stories or character sketches, but I haven't as of yet. Just another thing to add to the good ole list.

post with no name

I've been wanting to write for quite some time, but just have not had the time, energy, or wherewithal (is that even a word) to do so. There has been so much on my mind that I don't even know where to begin. So I might ramble a bit, but I need to get it all out of my head...

Babe
Turned a year old, and its been bittersweet. She is walking now, she starting walking on May 18, at 11:43PM to be exact. And its so weird to watch her now, she can stand and play at her toy box or her little chair and I don't have to stand beside her. She can take out the toys she likes, throw the ones she doesn't. I know why people get 'baby fever' around this time, because you see your little one growing and changing and becoming more independent and it makes you long for those days of just holding them, nursing, naps, rocking. Now she wants to get down on the floor, crawl, dance, and just wiggle about. She got her first pair of shoes tonight.

Moving
I was given the opportunity to begin school this fall. Everything happened really quickly and we've spent the past month trying to adjust to this new change. It does mean moving away from here and starting out in a new environment with no family, no friends, no known resources. But we are thinking that we are going to in fact do this. Its a way for me to finish my education and hopefully get a full time tenure-track job once I'm done. This will be the first time DH and I move away from home, home-home that is. It'll also be really difficult because we have babe now and my family has gotten so attached to her. My mom doesn't even want to talk about us leaving, its that hard. We are worried about how we'll manage without having family around us, because we are so fortunate now to have a good network, but I think we also feel like we've just got to try.
I'm thinking about how sometimes the things that seem so hard and difficult bring the greatest reward and knowledge.

Studenting/Mothering/Othering
I've seen myself solely as a mom for the past year. I mean I've been only in mom-mode, so its kinda hard for me to think of myself as being something else. Its important for me to establish an identity outside of being a mother, because sometimes I find that I miss old things I used to do, and I wonder if that's why I feel so 'different and at times lonely. I used to journal on a regular basis and read. I'd go through books like crazy. Honestly, I just didn't have the time for that this past year with Babe and all, but slowly I'm trying to welcome some of those old things back into my life again. Realizing that I'm not the same person who could read 3 books in a week, but just because I can't doesn't mean that I have to give that love up all together, it just means I can read 1 at a time, or that I might not journal as frequently, but I can still do those things, its just me doing them in a different way.
Thinking about going back to school and getting back into teaching and writing and researching has made me worry a bit, because I feel like I'm different now, I'll be a different kind of student, but I'm still trying to convince myself that doesn't mean I'll be a bad student. I think there are some things I've learned from being a mom that most definitely can benefit me as a student. Maybe I needed to learn some of those lessons before I went to school.

So, there is a hecka of a lot going on right now and I'm gonna try to keep up with my posting, but with a walking Babe now....I'm spending more time running.

No Sweet Tea

We travelled up North, CNY to be exact, to visit because I've been admitted into a PhD program for this fall. I'm happy to report that we got lost several times, never quite made it to any of the appointments we had to look at places, and had no sweet tea. It was really weird. We stopped in several restaurants, grocery stores, and little snack shops around the area and no one had sweet tea. I must admit that I was very disappointed and upset, I usually drink sweet tea with every meal (except breakfast). I didn't know this was such a southern phenomena until this trip when there was no sweet tea the entire time up there, even on the road, until we got to Maryland. That must be the sweet tea cut-off line, some mysterious line made up of ice cubes and sugar cane, and tea bags.

We got lost throughout the city, but it paid off because we were able to figure out places that we didn't really like and places that weren't originally recommended to us, that we just happened to find. Now the hard part is trying to find a place that will allow our dog, it doesn't seem like ye ole city up yonder is too pet friendly when it comes to renting.

Babe did really well driving up there, but the way back was harder because we traveled during the day and she got very fussy at the end. We all did.

checking in

This week has kept me so busy. Finishing up the end of the semester for the classes I was teaching and the class I take, along with birthday celebrations, and preparing for a trip up to the ye ole norf. We are going to go look at places up norf because, well, dammit, I'm going back to school.

I'm hungry now and want to write more, but a cheesey enchilada is calling my name...and I'mma go answer.


A Babe update
**Babe can snap her fingers to music. I was at least 10 or 11 before I figured that out. Her dad was 20. Clearly, she already superceeds us. Pure genius.**

Tis be my Birthday....

...watch me do the birthday dance! Arrrrrreba! Ole!
cha cha cha ....
After partying like it was 1999 all weekend for Babe's birthday, today is kinda quiet and I'm not complaining. I am now 29 years old. Wow. I don't feel weird about getting older and 29 doesn't feel that old to me. My granny used to say you don't feel different until you hit 5o, then things just start to change. But I'm feeling pretty good, despite the fact that I've got a paper to turn in that I stayed up until 2 in the morning writing! and an exam to take in about an hour.

I didn't really ask for much this birthday, except this. And I'm very happy because DH is actually getting it for me. I had a red and white one as a kid and I haven't ridden in years, so I look forward to this exercise again.

Birthdays have been kinda hard in my family because granny used to coordinate the birthday festivities, a cake, party hats, singing, all that stuff. So we've each found different ways to change and still honor the tradition. This year I decided that each year I'm going to make myself a birthday promise, something that I'll do for myself to make myself a better person.

This year's birthday promise: I just want to really stop the bull shit. And I mean that in oh so many ways. No need to 'splain Lucy.

My first birthday.

Today is Babe's 1st birthday. We spent the day opening presents (her favorite have been Backyardagain clip-ons, an activity cube, blocks, and a Vera Bradley purse), taking many pictures, and just remembering how she got here and what a wonderful year of milestones we've had with her.

Babe arrived in this world via cesarean birth. While I had general anesthesia (long story, but all was well, believe me, all was very well as I slept and felt no pain after 15 hours of the hardest work I've ever done in my life) I was not awake when she first came out, but once I was awake the first person I saw was Babe. She was tiny and swaddled and had been placed at my breast to nurse by our doula. She was gorgeous. DH and I spent the rest of the night and early morning looking at her, listening to her cries, and trying to fill out endless paperwork about her name. Those first few days are a blurr to me now. I know that I went home after 3 days, she slept no longer than 30 minutes at a time, sometimes 40 or 45, and she had a scream that could peel paint off of walls. I remember charting everything, from pees to poohs, to how long she cried, to which breast she nursed on, to pimples on her nose. We barely left the house, except for a doctor's visit to check her weight and height. It was a wonderful week. Those weeks moved into months and many other special things, the first time she tried holding her head up by herself (about 3 weeks), the first time she smiled and cooed at us-about 2 months (randomly she did it at 2 1/2 days), the first time she sat up by herself Thanksgiving, her first visit to see Santa, moving into our first house, the first cruising steps (9 months), crawling (11 months-2 weeks ago to be exact), and now her first birthday.

I honestly don't know where the year has gone, while not every moment has been spectacular, some have been down right scary (her first big fever in the middle of the night, her first temper tantrum in a store-over hot dog buns) and some have been sad (the loss of her great-grandma at 6 weeks old), every moment has propelled me towards this: there hasn't been anything greater to happen to me than this, being a mother.

Reflections..honest

This semester I took a class because I wanted to get back into the swing of school and because I simply adore learning. This semester I took a class with a babe, something I've never done. This semester I became The Student I Dread. How did this happen? Well, lets reflect on my behavior:

• I missed more than the allotted 'free miss' days. I missed 3 to be exact.
• I emailed the professor with questions that I could have answered had I been in class.
• I told the professor that I'd had difficulty finishing an assignment because of personal things at home, namely not having time with a babe to write/research on time.
• I turned in 2 assignments late.
• I did not always read the book.

I dread the fact that I didn't fully utilize this opportunity. Why did I act in this manner? I am a teacher I should know better. I should have planned my time better, should have lined up babysitter assistance so that I could complete homework assignments. Should have made my own deadlines instead of the ones on the syllabus because I know what kind of writer I am, I have to have many mini-writing sessions because I'm not good at just sitting down and cranking things out in long periods of time. So what I have I learned for the future?

• You have a babe. That means you might miss more than the allotted number of classes sometimes. Plan accordingly and don't skip a class one night just because you are lazy* (or afraid of getting a paper back), realize that you may need to save your free 'miss' class in case a babe needs you to take off for legitimate reasons.
• Refer to the first bulletin. But also, don't be afraid to ask questions for clarification.
• Be honest. Don't feel guilty because you have a child and are going to school. You still deserve to be here. But also realize that you've got to budget your time accordingly and this means that you must work in a different way than from how you once worked before, pre-babe.
• Again, time management-and deadlines.
• Just read the damn book.

Much of what I learned about myself this semester is that I do need deadlines. I do need some type of structure. And more than that, I do belong in school, even with a babe. Babe has taught me so much about myself this semester its not funny. That's for another post...

*much of my laziness comes from fear. I fear I'm not going to have the 'smartest' or 'wittiest' answer, or something that the teacher wants to see, so I dread doing the work, thus putting me on a cycle of dread-fear-dread-fear-get too tired from all the dreading and fearing and don't do any doing.

do u remember?

i used to want to be the kangaroo here.

i watched these after school and was always so sure of what i'd do.

these helped me learn about the gov'ment.

and i remember watching these after school or randomly durring the summer, glad i didn't go to this high school.

ah procrastination on the internet and feeling nostaligic is just grand.

i'm tired.

so much. very little done today.

went to a surprise b-day party for a 2nd cousin. realized that while its nice to see everyone, not everyone is doing the big things that you think. also realized that we are all very broken in so many ways.

DH worked tirelessly around the yard today. he finished cleaning up the shrubs and brush that we've had laying around the past few months.

i finally finished a draft of a paper that was due two weeks ago. now i just have the paper to finish. in like, 24 hours. um yeah.

and i got papers from a ye ole universidad that has offerred me a position as a graduate student, yup.

and now i'm trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

1. write paper
2. sleep
3. figure out what to do next
4. go to school?
5. how will i go with a babe.
6. how will i not go with a babe.

writing.

I'm having a really hard time writing the paper for my class that I'm taking. I don't know why. I think I should have picked another topic or maybe its that I'm afraid because the work I've done so far has just been really rough. I think the ideas have been good, but the thinking rough.

Note to self: it takes you time to get your ideas out and then to revise. plan accordingly

Status of me Listings

Now this is my new list (items removed = things DONE)

My list:
Get rid of my two ingrown toenails. (I know, gross, but they've been bothering me for like 2 weeks and I've not had the time to sit down and take care of them properly).

Take a shower (get rid of callous on foot).
***All of the above most be completed before I can move on the following***




Draft of final paper.
Get books and articles I want to use for my final paper.
Check off final paper requirements for class.
Put books away.


Not bad...some of the other things will just have to wait until tomorrow now because I'm too tired...but I'm feeling like I got things a bit more under control...uh...maybe

how did Babe learn she has control?

Babe has learned that she can say 'no' to food and toys and to us with a wave of her hand, like an army general. I'm not sure how she learned this, I guess because she's done it a couple of times and we've responded that she is saying no to whatever it is we are trying to offer.

Its just amazing to me to be able to watch all the changes and developments she goes through, even if this one means sometimes I get food in my hair and A&D in my eyes.

Get this done.

I have gotten to a point where I'm tired of letting things linger. This semester, actually the past two semesters I'd gotten into a bad habit of starting lots of little projects and not fully completing them. In my own head I guess I was thinking that I'd get more done this way, but it hasn't worked like that at all. I think its also because babe takes such short naps (usually only 2 for about 30 minutes a piece!) so I try to cram a lot into those periods of time which usually means I end up not getting much of anything done.

So I have enlisted my mother in law and DH to help me tonight because I'm feeling very stressed, its the end of the semester and I've got lots going on, so this evening I hope to actually get thing done.

My list:
Get rid of my two ingrown toenails. (I know, gross, but they've been bothering me for like 2 weeks and I've not had the time to sit down and take care of them properly).
Call my cousin and tell her I don't know if we can purchase her table... we might be downsizing if we move.
Put clothes in dryer and dirty ones in wash.
Eat some dinner.
Go for a walk.
Take a shower (get rid of callous on foot).
***All of the above most be completed before I can move on the following***

Respond to student emails.
Email students about final course requirements.
Fill in calendar about my final requirements.
Draft of final paper.
Get books and articles I want to use for my final paper.
Check off final paper requirements for class.
Put books away.
Make notes for appointments.

If there is still time....
->vacuum floors.

And- look up info on tenure/job prospects
and-Phd school stuff.

thats a lot to do....and its almost 6PM, oh! and I need to watch America's next top Model...gotta love that Tyra

Language and our/My Reality

Kenneth Burke said that "man is a symbol using, symbol misusing animal" (yes, a bit sexist with the language, but you get the gist). He also said that we create our reality by and through books and our symbols systems:

Take away our books, and what little do we know about history, biography, even something so "down to earth" as the rleative position of seas and continents? What is our "reality" for today (beyound the paper-thin line of our own particular lives) but all this clutter of symbols about the past combined with whatever things we know mainly through maps, magazines, newspapers, and the like about the present? (Langauge as Symbolic Action 5)

When I first read this I think I just read it. I didn't really apply it. For me Burke, or rather studying Burke, has been a struggle and an off and on again affair. I came to Burke as a grad student years ago and now return to him for help in my own teaching and writing. But today I saw through even my own terministic screens and I could see how we can become so cluttered with symbol systems that aren't are own, but that come from other places, that we loose touch on what our own understanding(s) is(are).

We cling on to words because thats really all we have for understanding our world. I guess there is something underneath language- something gutteral, like raw emotion, but even when we go to explain those feelings we are grasping for terms. I think about when I gave birth to babe, there are very few words that can really wrap themselves around the dynamics of that event. So, all we have are words and we use them the best we can. Is there any way possible to declutter our symbol systems? To really see and understand what we think or know?

In so many ways....

My dad always hollars about making sacrifices for us. He worked a shitty job for 30+ years and was able to put both my bro and myself through private school grades K-12. He hated his job and it was always known. But he said that he'd made a promise to himself that he'd do it so that he could put us through school and pay for the house, etc. This meant that my parents never had 'nice' cars, expensive clothes, vacations, etc. and now, as a parent myself I think I can begin to understand this idea of sacrifice.

But, what happens when you do sacrifice your work and your kids know it? At the same time are you sending them a message of, "its okie to forget about yourself and what you want?" Or, are you showing them how much you do love them? My dad always came home angry, I guess he could have done a better job of hiding it, and I never did feel like I was the cause of his anger-like I never felt like he was blaming me for his shitty job, I just felt like he was one angry man.

Back to the box.

Internet Powers

The strangest thing has happened. When Tree posted 'If you Blog it it Will Come' I must admit that I didn't think there would or could be any power behind it. My list, included the following:

*To be able to find a full time job teaching.

*To decide what kind of PhD program is going to work best for me.

And within the past two weeks I've had two job interviews for full time teaching positions and an offer of acceptance to a PhD program.

The internet does have power.....

While I don't believe that, I do believe that God doesn't put more on you than you can take and that certain things have to happen before you can take on certain challenges. Why is it, that I have the hardest time understanding that not only am I not in control and that is ok, but there is a higher power that creates order and I need only to relax and proceed as the way opens.

When your Head can't Wrap around a Situation

Today's events at Virginia Tech can't be explained. Tonight in class lots of us were trying to understand what happened today. Trying to make sense of it, but no one could. The irony of the situation is that we were in a class where we've been studying how you can learn about one's motives (and subsequent action) through the study of words. But in this case, I don't know, I don't see how you can understand how someone can murder, when nothing seems like there was anything to provoke the situation. What words can be used to describe this action?

I started watching this on the news today, around lunchtime and watched or listened most of the afternoon and evening. All I can say is that my prayers go out to that community.

Pray.

sigh

Yesterday I went for a job interview. I didn't really get nervous until I got there. I was fine the night before, fine in the car, fine when I walked into the building. Then, the nerves set in. Before I checked in with the interview folks I had some time, so I sat in a lobby to wait. For a minute I totally thought about leaving and hiding in the bathroom. I was able to settle my nerves enough so that I got myself together enough to wait for the interview folk to come get me.

I'd like to think that the interview went well. Reflecting back on it, my only worry is that I might have seemed to anxious to get the job. I mean the truth of the matter is, I am anxious to get the job, but I worry that it might have come across that I would do anything to get the job. Then I worry I laughed too hard at their jokes, or didn't laugh enough. I dunno...it could have been worse, right? I could have danced on the table and marched through the halls playing an imaginary trumpet.

Potpouri Part II of II

Guilt
I am feeling extremely guilty about going to this job interview on Thursday. I feel badly about working full time with babe. I don't know, I teach part-time now and that doesn't seem to bother me, but the idea of committing to working full time (along with the knowledge that also means other job responsibilities) is making me feel nervous and sad. I know that babe would be well taken care of, but its like I feel I should be there with her at all times.

Giddy
I've stumbled upon a really interesting idea about the relationship between language and religion. Not that I created it on my own, I owe it to good ole Kenneth Burke, but I have been trying to come up with a different version of his model and its made me quite giddy. Have you ever spent so much time thinking or working on something that you just get silly with it?

Go
I realized today as I was walking in the city through my old neighborhood that I want to go. I don't quite know where, but its hard for me to find places around here that make me feel good anymore. And maybe, yes I'll admit this, my husband could possible be right, its not the city, but just me. Some times, even when babe is with me I feel lonely. I want someone to talk to and not even about anything important. Just random old talk, and I think those are the times I miss my granny the most. Other times, I'm just so frustrated with having to commute to get to places (grocery store, appointments, work, etc) that I feel like its not always worth the hassle and so I stay at home and then feel really lonely because there aren't many folks around.
But I'm not even sure anymore where I want to go to, or if I'm just running from things within myself.

Potpouri Part I of II

Tomatoes
Tonight I was in Walmart with my mom, she was getting some stuff for Easter dinner. We were in produce and I noticed the tomatoes. I noticed a small package of them, they came in a pack of 3 in a small black plastic container. I remembered those being tomatoes my granny would buy. She'd get them and slice them up for tomatoe and mayo sandwhiches, or turkey and mayo sandwhiches. I didn't need tomatoes and they were expensive, like 2.58 for three, but I wanted to buy them just because they made my granny feel close.

Time
I have an interview. Yes, a real interview for a real teaching position this week, full time con benefits. *gasp* I'm nervous. I'm excited. I'm anxious. I have to use my time wisely the next few days to prepare for the interview, questions, presentation, travel.
I also have an abstract due for a 20 page paper and a CFP to finish for a paper on science and rhetoric, and a journal to index.
My dad says there is enough time in the day to do everything, but I've not figured that out yet.

Tug
Babe is tugging to stand up and walk now. If your sitting on the floor with her she wants to tug at your shirt and stand up, kinda grabbing you like, "Hey buddy, you might not want to move but I do." She's growing. So fast. Now she'll squirm to get down out of your lap so she can play on the floor. I swear, I just brought her home. I just had her, now she is moving around and about to do so independently.

***

Bubbly

Normally feeling bubbly is a good thing, but not if its happening in your stomach. My stomach is bubbly because I feel like I've got a good million things to do and just don't even know where to begin. That plus the fact that I drank so much apple juice today, more than one adult should. We've been trying to give babe other choices for food and drink, more than pureed babe food and milk, but she's not interested in much of anything unless its milk or strawberry yogurt.

So, we had apple juice and dammit I drank most of it. And now my stomach is gurgling.

***
On a side note, I must confess that I did it again. I bought another calendar/planner. I know, I know, its a cry for help because I buy them so damn often. Well, it used to not be that way, I'd buy one at the start of the school semester and that was it. Well, last year when shit started to hit the fan (gma's passing, moving, etc.) I started to buy them left and right because I was searching for one that would organize Me. Doesn't work that way. Well, today I got one, its really pretty and is large enough so I can keep my home lists along with my work lists and agendas all together in one place.

I'm afraid to write in it because my insane schedule might mess it up.
*looks around, flips the pages, things about using one of the new pens she just got, decides pencil is better*

Listing

Things that make me happy

1. Babe can pull herself up to stand with the support of her toy box, or a sofa, or more often, a mom or dad.

2. Babe eats yogurt and doesn't care for yucky sugary puddings.

3. I finally completed something on my list that had been on there for over a year.

4. Warm days that are not too hot or muggy.

5. Eating and drinking good food.

Things that make me sad

1. Missing my granny.

2. Hearing about other people dealing with cancer.

3. Missing having friends around.

4. Being lonely.

5. Sometimes, being alone.

6. Hearing about women who don't have access to health care during and after their pregnacies, deliveries, post-natal period.

Things that make me angry

1. People who don't respond to email.

2. Allowing myself to be shaped by the perception that others have of me, or rather the perception others have of themselves.

3. The fact that I believe so much of what I read.

4. Comparing and Contrasting.

5. Algebra

6. Having to take the GRE again.

7. Having to feel like I'm on the meat market again for school.

Things that make me excited

1. The fact that babe is growing so fast. (kinda sad too)

2. Thinking about school as a real prospect.

3. Thinking.

It only took me a year.

I lament over the excuses my students often give when they are turning in a late assignment: "Um, I forgot until a friend took me out for beers and then I started talking about how stupid this class is, and I'm like, sorry, but then I remembered, but by that time it was like 3 in the morning," "I had too many other issues to write this paper," "You mean we do have homework in this class? I thought it was just about writing." Yada, yada, yada. But I had a writing assignment, a review I was working on, that I should have finished like a year ago, but I just completed it. And it actually feels good. It feels really good.

I went out and got myself two filing boxes to try and organize my workspace here at home a bit more, I have a "Thinking" box and a "File" box, also known as in and out respectively. It does feel good to see things getting out of the Thinking box and into the filing box, makes me feel more accomplished.

I realize that I kinda have to work when the spirit moves me, which is not very often these days, or so it seems. So now I've got an entry to work on for a Hip Hop Journal article, and then I've got to figure out if I'm gonna try to respond to a call for papers about L1 and L2 writers. Then the next thing I want to tackle is my very outdated CV and teaching portfolio. My teaching philosophy I worked on earlier this year and for now I'm o.k. with it, but the portfolio is something I never really developed so now I've got to get that together.

I hope the story about the tortoise and the hare is right, slow and steady.

Poop

Babe and I were napping together this afternoon and I was just awakened by the smell of poop, not from Babe or myself (thankfully) but from dog who we have started to let have free roam of our house now that boxes have been put away and doors can actually be shut. Well, dog poohed in the Babe's room on her rug! Someone forgot to shut that door and now I've got to clean up in there. This is now forcing me to clean up around the rest of the house as well. I usually take one evening to just clean from top to bottom but because our schedules have been mad crazy I've not done that in quite a bit and now just clean as I go.

We bought a riding lawn mower today, it will arrive on Tuesday and we'll begin the other fun side of home-ownership, yard work. I know that sounds sarcastic, but I don't mean it to, I actually like working in the yard, making clean neat lines, piles, putting colors together, watering, raking. Its weird because I hated it when I lived at home.

I have also waited until the very last minute to do homework that needs to be done today and so I will have to goad myself to now work on this.

Question for self: If I feel so stuck and unhappy here (in country, in Rivah city, with what I'm doing) why is it so difficult to get motivated to do things that would help me to be able to move forward and move out of this condition I'm in?

Answer: I don't know

Must clean.

inspiration

From my bro, who is also feeling the same way:

XXXXXXXX (12:09:50 AM): i just wanna do what Grandma saw in the both of us


Amen.

I'm down.

I just feel down. I lack the motivation and drive I once had. It used to be that I'd eat this shit and it would make me stronger, make me want to work harder, get back in the game, but now I just want to crawl in my bed.

I thought I'd be pulling myself back up by now and working hard to get back into school, but I'm not. I don't even feel excited about the whole business thing anymore. Things just seem really confused and messed up and like I can't focus to get them straight.

I just want to be in school. I miss it and the sad thing is I can't even get my flipping shit straight to focus to study for the GRE or to get application stuff together. I'm in such a slump, complaining and lamenting that I can't realize if I REALLY don't like where I'm at then I've got to be the one to change it. Its like I say it, but what do I do to really make a difference?

This makes no sense.

I miss my dreaming partner.

No motivation.

Bah. I've got so much to do and limited motivation which means I have to work in spurts. I did clean a bathroom today. Also responded to emails and phone calls.

The night is young. Perhaps I'll do more.

I hope.

I
need
to
work again.

But I just feel
blah.

Send working vibes me way ye ole net.

Things a Babe can Do

I realized that I hadn't posted a new list of things that a babe can do recently, so here we go.

1. Stand up with support.
2. Stand on her own for a few seconds.
3. Pull herself up.
4. Dance a very fast shaky dance to country music.
5. Pick out her favorite book from a pile of other books, currently _Elmo's Bedtime Tales_ or _Olivia_.
6. Point to objects she likes.
7. Point to objects she doesn't like.
8. Grunt for things she wants.
9. Grunt for things she doesn't want.
10.Give a kiss.
11. Stick her arms through her shirt.
12. Twinkle all her toes and her fingers at simultaneoulsy.
13. Play peek-a-boo by holding a blanket up in front of her face and then putting it down and screaming with laughter.
14. Go from being on her tummy to rolling herself over and sitting up.
15. Feed herself mashed up bits of food.
16. Kick the covers off when she's in bed.
17. Cuddle for naps.
18. Drink out of a cup.
19. Pull both socks off.

At 10 months she is quite amazing.

Recalcitrance 2.0

So I've been taking a class this semester and have come upon a theory that I welcome. Rarely do I study theory and welcome it, I usally have a hard time understanding how to put theory into practice (the real world). But, this time it kinda came the other way, I'd been experiencing something and could not really put it into words. I couldn't adequatley describe what I'd been going through, but now I have this theory that does a good job explaining what I'm going through.

Recalcitrance is something that Burke coined in his work Permanence and Change. It basically boils down to the idea that you can't just say anything and have it be true, the wolrd will and can force you to redefine your statements. For example, I could say, "I'll run out in front of traffic and be just fine." Well, if I did that I'd get hurt, duh, and so the physical world would have then forced me to redefine my statement to make it more true, "If I run out into traffic I'll get hurt."

My physical world has been challenged since my grandma passed, last June 20. Challenged, because so much of what I thought and believed was shaken and things I never imagined happened. My grandma's death changed the way my family functioned, at one time you could always find us together on a Friday night at my granny's house, but now its not like that anymore. And we are all trying to redefine our selves and our beliefs, our statments as we are met with this new kind of reality. I think that for me, so many times I was still trying to operate in the old way, like the old me, but that old me was being met with fierce opposition in this new reality. Trying to force things that just were not working really made me hurt. I'd had a lot of people tell me, in a lot of different ways that I needed to welcome the new me here and allow her to flourish. The new me was not made up of only my grandma's death, but the Babe's birth also. Within six weeks I was to be reshaped by two very cataclysimc events and I have had a very hard time allowing that new person to operate. Sometimes I let myself get so washed away in the way things were that I don't realize that there is a new version of myself, and she's not at all bad.

I guess just as with anything, there are always kinks that need to be worked out in new versions.

I'm working in an office...

my own office here at home. Because I had a Kafka/Gregor Metamorphosis moment and decided that I no longer wanted to feel sorry for myself or feel angry because I don't have a teaching job. So, I got up and decided to start a business. I know, random and weird as it may seem because I'm not the "Trump" type, I'm more the "Nutty Professor" but hey- a woman has got to do what a woman has got to do and that's to help put food on the table and pay for this house so I've started a consulting business and am trying to woo my first client.

Different, yes, but still it involves teaching (business communication/vocational ESL) and it allows me to plan and do lots of work from home.

I am the fourth person in my family now to start a business and I'll admit it has not been easy. I had to do a lot of soul-searching and reflecting and it took me getting really angry and really sad in order to move forward with this, but I am. And I'm glad.

family clap.

I know it sounds corny and hoaky (is that even a word?), but my family used to do this thing, a family clap. Say for instance, someone found out they did well in school, or got a raise, we'd all clap for that person and kinda holla a bit to show our support. Then, after that person got a clap, another person would want some attention and family love too and so they'd throw something out. Here's an example:

Cousin 1: I got a 100 on my math exam today.
Family: Way to go! Yahoooooo! *claps widely*

*another cousin, thinking about something that would warrant a clap, voices: I ate oat bran cereal today, instead of sugary coco puffs!

Family: Yahooo! *claps even louder*

We really hadn't done any family claps since my gma passed, almost 9 months ago now. I think mainly because we all kinda avoid hanging out together, its something about being together that reminds you that person is not there. But its a catch 22 because we do actually like being together. Our family's version of a fun weekend was clammering over to my gma's house, sprawled on her bed, her floor, around her dresser, telling stories, laughing at the TV and just enjoying one another, and then having the family clap.

But tonight, the clap returned. We were all in my mom's house, cousins, aunty, bro, DH, babe, erbody who was normally together and my cousin announced something, about his electrician work, and we broke out into a random family clap. At the moment, I can't even remember what about, but I just know we clapped.

Sit and Watch.

Today I had lots to do. Appointments that needed to be scheduled. Dishes that should have been washed. Laundry, oh the laundry, I didn't know that a 10 month old made that much laundry. Floors that were sticky from babe's new found passion of 'feeding the floor' and should have been washed. But I didn't do any of this, I just decided to take some time and sit and watch babe.

Babe is now 10 months old and while she has not crawled, we've tried most everything and still try to get her on her belly and to move like we do, but she is just not interested, but what she does love to do now is to pull herself up and try to wiggle-walk.

If you've ever seen the videos or kids dancing to the song, "Walk it Out," that's what babe does. Her legs go in every which direction, but forward, and she is so happy with herself. She hates sitting now, even for a moment, she wants us to hold her hands and help her brace herself as she pushes up and then stands and tries to walk. Today I just watched her in amazement, so happy, so proud of herself, this child wants to be mobile.

Maybe she can teach me how to dance.
We sat in her room for a bit

anybody read any good....

stuff on Motherhood in the 19th century in America?
I need to find some stuff....suggestions welcomed.

I kinda did it.

Last week I took a midterm in my ye ole grad course. I have not taken a midterm in like, uh, 8 years. I got the highest score on the essay.

um, yeah.

*does a shuffle.*
*looks around to see if anyone else is looking.*
*notices that she's alone.*
*breaks out in the running man and cabbage patch.*
*does the snake.*
*starts to pop and lock.*

So yeah, I'm feeling pretty good.

There's no place like home.

I really didn't move around very much as a kid. My folks were living in an apartment when I was born and moved into a house when I was around 2 or 3. We stayed in that house until my baby bro was born and then moved about two miles down the road to a larger home when he was about 2 or 3. For the most part, I lived in that last house until I got married at age 24. I did have two sabbaticals. The first came when I called my dad a dictator and moved out to my granny's. I lived with her about a year and then moved back home to start afresh with my family and work things out. Things didn't stay fresh very long and when they soured, I moved back in with my granny.
When I lived with at my granny's house I shared a small bedroom with my cousin. I stayed on the top bunk and had one plastic tote for clothes, two drawers for my things, and a desk for books, papers, and pictures. There were six of us living in a small three bedroom house with one bathroom, but we were all so happy.
At my parents house I had my own room, access to two bathrooms, and lots of space to move around. Most of the time I stayed in the room with my bro, camped out on a mattress on his floor. It was easier to be in their house if you surrounded yourself with others.
When I got married, the first apartment we lived in had one bedroom, one bath, a small closet kitchen, living room, and an office/dinning room space. It was by far, one of my most favorite places and remains to this day, my most comfy home (second only I guess to my granny's space). We didn't have much furniture or things, just our books, papasan chairs, and lots of book shelves. There were lots of windows that made it drafty in the winter, but it also provided the ideal place to sit and just people watch. We lived on the third floor and we sat on the corner of a really busy intersection. Across the street was a playground and soccer field. I loved it. The action in the summer nights of the lights being on over at the park and people playing sports in the evening, the steady ebb and flow of cars and lights. It was in that apartment that I found out I was preggers with babe.
We moved when I was about 4 months preggers to a larger apartment around the corner. Same complex, but a larger space and it was on the first floor. That apartment was horrible. From the beginning there were problems, backed up pipes, people starting fires in the laundry room (which was housed in the basement of the building), strangers wandering in and out of the building, vacant apartments that drew unsavory creatures, gas leaks, and the final straw was that the floor in the living room crumbled to pieces when a pipe burst and caused water and goo to leak down to the subflooring.
We moved in with my parents, babe, DH and I and waited for the house we'd gotten in the county to be fixed so that we could move in.
So thats where I'm at now. But I'm wondering why I still haven't felt settled in just yet. Certainly, we are unpacked, cook good meals, enjoy our books, and more importantly our babe! But for some reason I'm still not feeling like its home. Now don't get me wrong, after a long day of work I am ready to come back and take a shower, unwind and get to bed, wanting to recharge. But its not the same as when I lived in that first apartment.
Haven't quite figured out what's missing just yet. Perhaps it is something I've lost or not yet unpacked along the way.

Not backwards but forwards

Once upon a time, in a world far away there lived a young woman who had a plan. Her plan was to go to graduate school and get a PhD in rhetoric. She was going to far away place from her native greenland. This new place was down a cold road, but she was not afraid. She knew that if she could get in, she would make it and do well. Well, she did. She got in. She celebrated and was congratulated. Then, things started to happen. Nothing that the young woman could control, her DH's mother took ill, she got preggers, and things just started changing. It was a lot to take in and at first she was quite angry. Bitter in fact, because she thought that now she would truly be behind. She had been told once by a wise elf, "Never move backwards. Even if you can only take a half step forward, don't go back." So she prided herself in always moving about this way. But this, she could not fathom. She had succeeded in getting into a good school and getting full funding, it was at her fingertips and now gone.
***
I've been reading blogs by folks who are in academia, either tenured or up for tenure or finishing dissertations, working on course work, etc. That was what got me into reading blogs and blogging in the first place. I also was having a conversation with a good professor friend/mentor/sister who is very well known in her profession. She helped me to see things in a different way. She said that coming into the academy after you've had some 'livin' experiences can often help you see through some of the bull-shish that is sure to be there. I think that my problem was that I kept thinking, "I'm doing this backwards, I'm not doing it in the order I was supposed to." Now, who has dictated that 'order'? Lots of folk, my dad, society, some 'progressive' thinkers, "Get into school, finish your education, don't have kids until you are COMPLETE."

Well check this one out, maybe realizing your completeness can come in different ways. In no way do I think I feel 'complete' but I do have a greater awareness that I didn't have pre-babe. An awareness of what matters to me, to others. What if I feel like I know more about myself now because I've had to take on another role as mother, this person called "Mama."

***
And now the woman lives still in a green land, now with a babe who dances and eats crunchy cereal in her yogurt, and loves to read books about farm animals, and eat her mother's books on philosophy and literary theory. She wants to become one with the knowledge. And her mother is learning that through her. While her mother does not consume books through her mouth, she is voraciously reading and thinking and seeing connections with research that she never realized were there.

This same woman is though still nervous. Still kicks her feet around and looks sheepish when she's thinking about having to 'get back out there' on the 'graduate school horse.' Afraid she'll fall off and once and for all have to really think of something else to do. But there is babe, babe who is teaching me in knew ways, so perhaps during one of their late night reading frenzies, babe will point out a new direction.

Chai

Last night I got even sicker. I woke up, or rather couldn't sleep and had chills and a fever. At some point I bumbled into the bathroom and tried to take a shower. I had what my bro and I call the 'shakes.' The shower worked for a little bit but then the fever went up and broke at some point during the night because I woke up and was soaked, my hair, shirt, pants, the blanket I'd wrapped myself up in. It was miserable. I also had a 'fever dream.' I don't know if any of you have ever experienced this, but it happens sometimes when you have a fever and are just having really weird dreams. In the dream someone was trying to get me to deliver a package and walk a straight line while doing so. I was freaking out and trying to hide. Weird-o.

Yesterday I submitted my first piece for publication. I won't know until a while if it was accepted, the editors seemed interested, but who knows. I'm not holding my breath. It does feel good to know that I did at least have a deadline and was able to meet it.

On the job front, no word yet from anywhere. I'm not really worried yet, I think that because I've been an adjunct for so long (frown, I know, mistake it is) {look at me doing Yoda}, I've always kinda had it looming that maybe I won't get classes for the following semester, but semester after semester I did, sometimes I'd be teaching six courses, two American lits and 4 freshman comps at two different institutions. So, because I got used to the steady flow of work I never really thought it would stop, well now it has. After this semester I don't have any courses, any where. What's weird, is that I'm not scared at all, or worried. I realize I don't have any control over policies or hiring (especially when I KNOW I'm a damn good teacher-no big playah pants there, its just the truth). I've been toying around with starting my own consulting business for the past year and maybe its just time for me to do something different.

I must now fix myself a cup of chai with soy milk and eat a mini pound cake slice.
Small pleasures.

I am ill.

There are horrible colds, viruses, and other assorted bugs running rampant. Our house has been sick for the past week now, first it started with DH. He had a bad cold, headache, stomach stuff, etc. Then babe got horrible fevers, now a cough that she actually seems amused by. Yesterday, I got sick. My throat was scratchy and today it felt like my sinuses were swollen.

When I was young, my sick routine was to eat grilled cheese, Ramen noodles, and hot coco.

Today I craved apple juice and drank the entire gallon of apple juice we'd bought for wee babe. So I managed to get some clothes on and take a trip to Target to get more juice.

My head hurts and I've been writing this paper for the past 2 hours.

Must finish.

Letter to the Blog-o-sphere Teacher

Remember when you were in school and you missed a day, your mom or dad had to write a letter when you returned to say why you were absent? My mom used to write these for me. So, because I've been absent for about 26-7 days from the blog-o-sphere, I decided to write a letter, my mom doesn't know what a blog is so I couldn't get her to do it.

Dear Blog-O-Sphere:

Please excuse Ilnizzzah from being absent. She has not been able to read nor post to blogs because for the past three weeks she has been very busy. Ilnizzzah is taking a graduate course this spring to try and 'work her way' back into being a grad student, she hopes to apply to a graudate program for her PhD in the near future. However, what she failed to realize is that it is extrememly difficult to manage being a new mom, a new home owner, a wife, a teacher, a sister, a daughter, and a cousin and also read 100-200 pages and write critiques that actually make sense. She also did not take into account that she'd have to start a job search because her current employment is about to be over. She was saddened by this, but is now working to start her own business, so as you can see she does have her hands full!

I am not writing to get sympathy, because Ilnizzzah well understands that there are people out there who have far less and have to do far more than she wrap her head around. I am writing just to let you know that she regrets being absent, but had to reset her priorities and hopes to be more of an active participant because she does so enjoy blogging.

Ilnizzzah is working very hard to learn how to balance all of her roles and responsibilities. It has not been easy, but I feel she is making progress.

Thank you for you attention to this,

Ilnizzzah in the *parent* role

If you blog it, it will come......

In keeping with the post from Cheese & Responsibility, “If You Blog It, It Will Come,” these are the things I wish for:

On a Global Front:
*Affording housing. When there are people who live in subhuman conditions, there should not be vacant apartments, houses.

*All children have access to a good education. This means, teachers who are qualified and receive continuing education, are paid a living wage, are given the supplies they need to teach. This also means students are not treated as prisoners in their schools.

*More awareness about what is going on in Africa, the AIDS epidemic, War crimes (rape and mutilation of women, children, men), genocide.

On a More Personal Front:
*For my daughter, husband, and myself to get over these colds/bugs.

*To be able to find a full time job teaching.

*To decide what kind of PhD program is going to work best for me.

*To finish my class this semester with a good grade.

*To gain more confidence in myself.

*To loc my hair.

umf.

That's the sound I'm making right now. I just drank too much water and need to burp. I also need to:

bring in the laundry
pump milk
get clothes out for tomorrow
finish an application
write a proposal
respond to email
grade papers
finish a 'fun' book
get babe's toys washed
take a shower
pack babe's bag
prep food for tomorrow
clean the family room
take a shower
find some me time

umf.

I haven't posted in quite some time and its because I've been so busy and trying really hard to find a balance between my roles as mother, wife, teacher, student, and er-thing else. I've not been the most successful, but hey, I guess it really depends on how you define success. Babe is well fed and happy. We had her 9 month check up at the doctors this week, she is a nice 24 pounds, 28 inches. Its so amazing how quickly she grows. She also throws mini tantrums, the doc had a tongue depresser and she let babe hold it, when babe proceeded to try to eat said depresser doc took it away and babe threw a fit. Her fits are actually cute (and I KNOW they won't be when she's 2 or 3) but she looks at you then the object and kinda shakes her head then lets out a little yelp. We've been having to really talk about how we want to discipline her. Neither DH nor myself believe in spanking, but we also don't want to fall at the other end of the spectrum, the folks who don't believe in saying no. So, another facet of parentling enters.

I can never say that I'm bored with a babe around. Tonite my mom held her hands and she started to take small little steps. A part of me was so happy and wanting to cheer another part of me wanted to cry. She's still my babe! I just had her! She was so small and wee! Now she poops turds!

Ok, maybe too much info but I'm tired and need a shower because I need to be able to function properly tomorrow.

umf.

Just Tired

Tired of....
driving
inconsiderate people
no support
work
thanklessness
cell phones
stagnant water
racist people
the television
empty words
making plans
breaking plans
old motivation.


Things are still not balanced for me. I don't know. How do people do it? No, scratch that how to women with kids do it? How do i balance? How can I be who I want to be and not feel like I'm pulling my hair in order to do it? I don't know. I don't know, I don't know.

I just know that I feel like I've got to work harder than I ever have before.

"rainy day, rain all day, aint no use in gettin up tired just let it groove it's own way" (Jimi Hendrix)
But my problem, is that I still lack that balance. When I take the approach to just "be like water" (Bruce Lee) I loose all sense of control and just let things take ME over. I feel so out of it, I'm sick of the space I'm in. How will I dig myself out of this? I want to be a good mother, but first I got to be a good person, a good human, woman, whatever, but damn if don't no body make this shit easy.

Tired but Accomplished

Mangaged to finally finish my teaching philosophy statment and not feel horribly embarressed when i read it. Washed dishes and did laundry. Still have more piles to go and did not finish house cleaning.

Babe is crying and I need bed, so does she, most go soothe the babe.

Funny, her tooth is coming in and you can hear it 'clink' against her little spoon as she eats. Just a tiny little rim of white poking up out of those gums. Most soothe the babe.

Lots more to do. But at least I did finish this one thing, that I've been trying to do for like- 5 months now?
Yikers...at this rate....

Nope, just gonna be patient.

Just got bored.

Trying to procrastinate with work made me change things around.
Feeling guilty about procrastination made me keep it simple stupid.

feeling better

I got through both my classes and feel better. Its kinda like talking and writing with my students helps me to remember why I'm doing this.

This=teaching, trying to learn, trying to write.

One thing I'm not still settled on is the whinning I was doing earlier about managing all my roles. But instead of whinning I think I'm gonna try to talk about it. Or maybe write about it.

What does it mean to be a mother in 2007? Or what does it mean for me?
Are there any 'Status on Motherhood' reports out there? This balancing act is hell- home, family, child, career, education, self. I love being a mother, but some of the roles that are forced upon me (and maybe I allow them to be) make it hellah-hard to be a sane human.

More later, more work now.

My first day

Its my first day back on campus and I don't feel ready for some reason. I've got my lesson plans and my readings prepped and all, my syllabus is up but I just feel out of the loop even though I taught last semester, so there's no real reason for that.

I didn't sleep well last night either, just felt really anxious and couldn't relax. It must have something to do with all the stuff I'v got going on. I constantly feel like I'm in a rush, always doing something or having something that needs to be done and yet not enough time. I have to try to and carve out time at night to work but that doesn't always work because the Babe starts to get fussy and if she can see or smell me, she wants to be in my lap or on my hip. We've not done the babysitter thing, primarly because we don't have one and I don't know that there are too many people I would trust with Babe anyways.

Since we moved out of the city, now it takes like 45 minutes to get to my parents' house they aren't always readily available. Even though I complained, I must say I miss having the extra help.

I dunno, I'm starting to hear whinning in this post so I'm gonna shut up.

I just feel swamped.

Cute things Babe can Do

1. Dance to her favorite music (reggae, some hip-hop, Johnny Cash, Backyardigans)

2. Play with her toys by moving them from one hand to another and shaking them.

3. Laugh and snort.

4. Laugh so hard her mouth doesn't move.

5. Get very angry when we take a toy away, or an item she perceives as being a toy but its not.

6. Give kisses

She is quite amazing.

fingers

Today I was driving to the grocery store and I started slowing down for a yellow light. I ended up beside a car with an older woman. I couldn't see her face at first, but just her fingers on the steering wheel and for a split second I thought they were my grandma's hands.

They were dark brown and some of the fingers a bit crooked, wrinkled, but still smooth.

I pulled up and kept staring at the woman's hands until I'm sure I made her quite uncomfortable and she waved. I smiled, nodded, and waved back.

I remember how my grandma would use her fingers to work vaseline and oil through my hair, parting my hair and smoothing it down. Sometimes she'd take just her pinky finger and use it to point to a place in your head where you either needed more grease or were using too much. I remember her fingers making sandwhices, trimming the edges off the bread, smashing the sandwhich down so it'd be almost flat. Or how she'd slide her glasses back on her face; she would use her thumb and ring finger and cup the classes and slide them back on her nose. When I was younger, much younger, she would paint her fingernails, usually a dark red deep purple, but she was always particular about the color looking just right.

My last memories of her fingers and hands were of her in the hospital, she was sick, so sick, and laying in that big bed, so small. I showed her pictures of babe and she said she was so beautiful, "like a doll." I couldn't stand to see her like that, the room was warm, and I felt hot. Family was around, piled up in the room like how we always are, and I looked at everyone's faces. I could see that we were all wearing masks, but I couldn't do it any longer. So I grabbed gradma's hand, or either she grabbed mine, I don't remember now, and it was so warm. So warm and so soft.

Its been 7 months now since her death and in some ways I feel even worse, different things catch me like what happened today. It might be a smell, or a song, or something small, but it pulls me back in this tidal wave of emotion.

nothing

Not much going on here. Been feeling a bit under the weather lately, mentally and physically. I put too much into the whole New Year New you thing.

Babe should be sprouting some teeth soon, she's got drool everywhere and constantly trying to bite. Its weird to think that she's already 8 months old. Thats close to a year! She has a toy she really likes that sings music and when she hears it she jumps up and down and kinda bounces around. Its the cutest thing.

I've got house work and other work to tend to.

Yup.

New Year. New Poop.

The babe is pooping like crazy.

I bought yet another calendar.

More work less blog.

Walk it Out

I'm ready to walk this damn year right on out.

20 Reasons why 2006 needs to get the boot.

1. My grandma died RIP GMA.
2. My great aunt died, RIP Clementine.
3. My great uncle died, RIP Wilbur.
4. My uncle died, RIP KEE.
5. James Brown died.
6. Babe and I were hit by a dump truck, we are thankfully o.k.
7. The job I had the first part of the year sucked ass.
8. My apartment floor erupted and I had to evacuate within 48 hours.
9. My brain has been so loopy I did a suck ass job at teaching.
10. My teaching job is running out.
11. I didn't go to school.
12. My grandma died.
13. My grandma died.
14. Poverty.
15. War.
16. My grandma died.
17. My grandma died.
18. My grandma died.
19. My grandma died.
20. And last, because my grandma died I lost me.
***
***
But with all of that said, I know that out of this pain and hurt I felt in 2006 I also saw some very beautiful things that I think, or rather I hope I can learn from.

1. My beautiful daughter was born.
2. A 15 hour labor that resulted in a complication free c-section taught me patience and how to let go of worry.
3. Watching my grandma with cancer taught me compassion and patience, and a faith that withstands all. She was beautiful.
4. Seeing family members around me loose so many taught me that we really don't have much to hold on to beside our family.
5. Having my babe taught me that work really does not matter nearly as much as I thought it did.
6. Babe also taught me that if I do have to work, I want to make sure I'm doing something outside of the home that is worthwhile and helping others, in the same spirit my grandma lived in.
7. Not having a home and being displaced for 2-3 months taught me that its the small things that matter, late night tea drinking, walking from the bedroom to the bathroom in just your roos.
8. Being hit and in the accident taught me how much material objects just really don't matter.
9. Having a home now taught me how important it is to make roots where-ever you are.
10. Not going to school this year was the best thing that could have happened to me. I learned that I really didn't know what in the hell I wanted to study, nor did I understand the importance of balancing theory and practice. Orthopraxy. There's that word again.
11. With so many of my plans moved and cancelled I've learned that while you have to make some goals for yourself you also have to make room for God to step in as well.
12. I've also learned that writing is important for me. I avoided blogging and journaling for quite some time, but not writing my problems or writing about what I was feeling did not make things better or make things go away as I'd thought.
13. X (because there is still so much unknown and I'm welcoming that).

I'm going to try to welcome 2007 even if it means letting go of so much I held on tightly to in 2006. I'm also thinking about going back to the old way of doing things, because I seemed to get so much more done that way.

Think. Paper. Ink.

Membering

Last night my bro reminded me of an old TV show I used to watch, Bananas in Pajamas. This show came on in the US about 10 or 11 years ago. I remember that I watched it when I was a senior in high school and the summer after I graduated I bought the stuffed toys. That fall, of 1996, my granny went into the hospital with colon cancer and I gave her one of my stuffed banana to keep her company. He went to the hospital with her and came home and had a semi-permanent place on her bed for quite sometime. I have no idea whatever happened to that cartoon or to the stuffed toys. I'm quite sure my mom or granny might have thrown them away if they got too dirty and weren't washable.

***
When I was a kid I would want to pack my own lunch for school. I'd study the way sandwiches looked in advertisements on TV and in my mom's Women's Day magazines and try to recreate them for my own lunch box. Of course I had no idea at age six or seven that they spray paint and glue those sandwiches for the photos or TV commercials. All I cared about was the image and having that image to give to others at school, that I, _______ ________ __________ had the PERFECT motha-otha sandwich.

I would beg my mom to buy good white bread (because usually dad would get us wheat bread from the thrift store that was only like an hour away from being molded and ready to make penicillin). Then I'd get her to buy a head of lettuce amidst much protest on her part because she'd proclaim I wasn't gonna eat it. I might be able to get her to buy a tomato, then American cheese, and ham or turkey. The night before I would artfully construct my sandwich. Planning the layers, standing back from the kitchen table looking at my creation, patiently creating layers of tomato, lettuce, mayo, meat, and cheese, sculpting so the sandwich would stand tall and pretty.

Then my mom would come in and tell me how I should pack everything separate. Put the tomatoes in a separate thing of aluminum foil, put the bread separate from the meat and cheese, lettuce she thought should be wrapped in paper towels and then aluminium foil to keep it fresh. Her theory was that this would make the sandwich actually edible, instead of the soggy mess I'd end up with.

But who the fuck had enough time to sculpt a sandwich during a thirty minute lunch break, one that would be pretty and perfect enough for the entire lunch table to see and want. Or one that would make them think my mom made the best sandwiches.

***

Its funny how you can't force memories. Or at least I can't. Sometimes I struggle so hard to try to remember something from childhood, or from my granny, or just from last week and I can't. Its like the harder you try to grab for it, the further away it moves. So I'm just trying to commit them to this thing call the Internet so that they can float in another space until I can figure out what to do with them all in my head.
And isn't it lovely that we can have labels for them as well. To keep them neat and ordered. Wish I had that for my head.

To those who might ask: What pray tell is a Black name? My reply:

When I was in high school people would say, "You so don't have a black name." I guess because my name doesn't sound like the typical (or maybe stereotypical-because what is typical?) African-American name people would have a hard time with me. Its like, you had to have a certain name or certain persona in my high school to be considered 'black'. I know it sounds silly and believe me it is. But anyways, I used to think that I should change my name to reflect my African-American culture, but the older and wiser I got, the more I realized that my name didn't have to the kind of name that others saw as being reflective of African-American culture, all that mattered was that I knew who I am and where I'm coming from.

I do however see the significance in changing your name or taking on additional names, people do that all the time when they are trying to rebirth themselves or recreate a new role for themselves, and from time to time I have gone by different nick names or had different circles of friends call me different things. Its like once I had babe I became mum at home and DH became dad and we just kind of refer to one another like that now. But in some circles I'm called x and some circles y. I like that, I like the fluidity of taking on another name as I move through and am around different people.

My family, my dad's family in particular is big on names, I guess that's why I have such a long one. One first name, a middle name, another name I got when I was baptized, a name I took when I was confirmed, another name I adopted when I starting to actually practice a religion by choice, and then my maiden name + my husband's last name. No, they aren't all on my birth certificate, but I like having them in my pocket.

Now I have Tinkerbell too.

Your Black name is Tinkerbell

When DH and I were dating, for the first 3-4 years at least, my MIL didn't speak to me. She didn't agree with the fact that DH and I were together because I'm brown and he's kinda creamy. Ok, to put it bluntly, I'm Black, and he's White. Yup, can you believe it? Two people who happen to be different shades fell in love and wanted to just love one another and be together and hug each other and just be together. But anyways, I digress.

So one time MIL went to an old friend's store and the following conversation ensued:

ol friend: Hey, your _____'s mom. How's it going? He goes out with my friend _____.

mil: Um, hello.

ol friend: Yeah, they really get along great.

mil: I don't know who your talking about.

ol friend: But you are ________'s mom right? I recognize the last name, and his name is on your check here too.

mil: Yes, I'm his mother.

ol friend: So, you know _______, they've been together for like two years now.

mil: I don't know her.

See, mil pretended I didn't exist, kinda like how you ignore or try to ignore a toothache until its pounding through your gums. (Does that mean I just equated myself to being a toothache?)

But anyways, she ignored me until she figured out I wasn't going anywhere. And sometimes when I look back on it, I'm angry but other times I laugh, and last night I laughed because DH and I were talking about it and how I could have introduced myself to her and she could have called my Tinkerbell, because as far as she was concerned she didn't want anyone to believe that I existed and that I dated her son. Actually, she probably would have been happier with her son going out with a fairy or a Tinkerbell type. She probably would have found it easier to explain to her friends the wings than the brown skin.

But, all is well and my Black name now is Tinkerbell.

Reason #39 2006 needs to move on out

It has been quite a week, or end to a week, as technically Sunday starts a new week, I think.
Babe and I were in an accident on friday afternoon, trying to get home with cleaning supplies and stuff, as we're trying to still move in county house. County house is still not ready and we now have to deal with the accident stuff.

But what I have realized during the past 48 hours is that nothing really matters as much as I once thought it did. Or rather things matter in a different way than what I once thought.

I am so glad the semester is over now and that we are moving soon (I hope, we've had 3 or 4 different move-in dates now) because I'm really charged with starting afresh.

My head is still cluttered but at least now I feel like I know how I might begin the decluttering process.

The accident plus a call from a far-away friend on Thursday helped me to realize what kind of thinking I need to have and more important want kind of practice I need to have.

orthopraxy is my new word. not just right speech but right action.

a moment of clarity

Mm. Ok.
So in all this chaos of moving and trying to start afresh in county house, I was feeling really bummed out tonight because I've not done any 'school' work so I started reading on my dear friend Kenneth Burke and realized something. I totally could have used his dramatist theory to write my thesis.
How could I have missed this?

Conversation I'm having in my head with tired me and school me.

Tired me: Ok so here's the deal, Burke felt that we are symbol using creatures, right?

School me: Right.

Tired me: So like, he also had this theory about the study of rhetoric. That if we used rhetoric we could ultimately understand human behavior. Why we do what we do.

School me: What we do, what we do. Yup, that's correct.

Tired me: So he thought that we really were like performing on a stage. That's the whole idea behind the pentad. Its like this drama thing.

School me: Everybody plays the fool. No exception to the rule.

Tired me: So, what I could have looked at with my thesis, instead of the whole terministic screen thing (that I don't think I used in the way I should have, or could have done it differently), but anyways, what I could look at how relationships amongst audiences are created to divide the audiences.

School me: Your pretty smart.

Tired me: Well, no, see I was feeling guilty for not having read anything 'school' related and just reading blogs and stuff. So I forced myself to look at some Kenneth Burke articles. I've also found that not many people have looked at

School me: Maybe you should go to school

Tired me: Maybe sleep deprivation is the key.

School me: Lets go to bed.

Tired me: Agreed.

.

busy.
moving.
chaos.
new house.
period.

a Mum moment

Babe discovered her right hand yesterday. She's been using it all along, but it was like she just woke up on Sunday morning and looked at it like, "Wow, fancy meeting you here. I think I control thee."

So all day she would be playing or eating or doing whatever and then at certain moments she'd stop and notice that hand again.

I learn something new from babe everyday and today she taught me to stop and notice the small things.

"Hello right hand, how art thou?"

Babe has a very nice old English accent. No idea where she got that from.

much to say

I've actually got some writing that I really need to get done during the next few weeks. I've got a Xmas memories piece I'm supposed to be doing for my family's gathering and I've got some work things I need to do and something else that I can't remember. Hum.

Last night I was gonna try to get some work done but opted not to when I was given the chance to take a nap. Now, I've got to try to force myself to do work tonight, when I'd rather be playing with babe. Maybe I'll work on some stuff for about an hour or so after I get babe's bath and then call it a night.

I don't know.

I need to make a writing list:

1. Christmas Memories piece
2. CV
3. Philosophy de la me teaching
4. RSA application
5. Paulo Friere paper

My goal: to have most of this stuff completed by the end of the week, so that I can at least have the writing out there and then I can work on touch ups after that.

Babe is calling.

Treat a Woman Right

Just a few years ago, a fun Saturday night for me would have included dinner and a late movie at the cool little old school movie theatre. Afterwards, we might have gotten Slurpee's or donuts or something and then headed home to watch weird shows that only come on super late at night (stuff about aliens, conspiracy theories, etc, the fun stuff). But now things have changed. Do you know what I got tonight and I'm just flipping thrilled? A nap! I got to sleep in the bed for like 1 and 1/2 hours.

I think all the stress and strain from the week just finally caught up with me. I had my last week of class, papers to read, folks to meet with, house stuff to do, babe to love and take care of, and all the other stuff that goes along with being a wife, mom, teacher, and er-thing else.

More progress on the county house...plumbing is done and now the walls are all up, thank God. Just painting and other small finishing touches to make. We are hoping to clean up next week and start the move in process next weekend. It'll be weird to have a house. Even weirder because we've been in flux for such a while now and I really do hope and believe that being there will help to set a foundation for us.

More on the progress front, I have actually started to work on a teaching philosophy statement. I'm trying to spend good time on it so that it can actually be good and not poop. Any suggestions from all you teaching folk out there? Cause a sista wants to get back in the giz-game with school and working.

1+1=2

Interesing to look at the two posts that I've had today. One seems to infer that I know where I'm suppused to be. The other that I need to move from that space. And this is why I really like my blog or blogging. Being able to see these two pieces of writing together on one page (screen) forces me to read what I've written and to think about what I'm thinking, really think, something I don't normally like to do with my journal.

So let me 'splain because the irony between the two posts has actually lead me to some new knowledge. For quite some time I dealt with issues of regret and anger about not going to school, about my granny's death, about relationships. But what I'm learning, through babe and my new role as a mom, is that I really do have a lot to learn from all of the experiences that I'm going through now. Its not that I am not happy as a mother, but more that I'm unhappy with myself in the space where I just float with along with the 'whatever'. I don't want to be a controlling planning freak anymore (ugh, gulps as she thinks about her new organizer) but I don't want to just 'be' either. There is a balance. And for me, it means putting my role as a woman into perspective. I am a mother but I am also a person who wants to continue to write, research, teach and work with students. So what I'm learning is that I need to make some decisions about what I do with my time and how I ask for help.

I've reached another wave of murky water and I want to poke my head out from under. I know I've hit points like this before and been sucked back with the waves, but I'm tired of the dirt and grit in my mouth. I wouldn't mind it so much if I were actually getting to the shore, but its just something else to weight me down, so I need to learn and progress.

Lonely People

"All the lonely people, Where do they all come from?
All the lonely poeple, Where do they all belong?"

Sometimes you feel loneliest when you are surrounding by people, things, motion.
I think that its out of brokenness/lonliness that you can learn and move. There is a real chance that I won't have a job, the job I love after next Summer. But I'm not even stressed about it. Like normally I'd be freaking out and trying to make plans upon plans. But I'm not feeling that way at all. I think this was the last push I needed to make some real changes to my life that I've been afraid of.

I tend to be so afraid of failure that I don't move at all. But inside all of this motion, this chaos, I'm finding that standing still is even more scary than if I were to try to move. So I'm choosing motion.

Wee Babe

Babe is now 7 months old. I can't believe that much time has passed, some times when I look at her I feel like I just brought her home. Its amazing all the stuff she can do now: pick her toes, take socks off, roll over, sit up on her own, put fingers in her mouth, eat baby food (hot favs right now are sweet potatoes and oatmeal), make poop with form, laugh, smile, and grunt. Last year at this time I was just about to find out the sex of babe and now she's here and I feel like I've known her forever. Its amazing to watch her develop and as my dad says, "settle in her ways."

I complain a lot about not being where others are, career or school wise, but most days I know exactly where I'm supposed to be and babe helps me to remember that.

Carving out Time

I have been sucked into more technology. After having three separate paper calendars, I've gone ahead and taken the plunge and purchased one of these. DH thingk that I'm just fascinated with small tech gadgets, and truth be told I am. I got my first ipod, the nano, this summer and I got my first laptop, a mac book. There is just something sleek and comforting about them, which is strange for me because I used to be a totally pencil paper type of person. For me, I didn't think it was actually 'good' and in my 'head' or out of it, unless I had the ability to physically write it down. Now its different, with so much going on I find it bothersome to have tons of notes and reciepts cluttering my bag, so I guess I was looking to go as paperless as possible.

I always thought that I'd want to stick with the old fashioned calendar, and who knows, maybe some day I'll go back, but for now, I needed a change.

And I like the ability to color-code my calendar.

Now, lets see if the pretty little gizmos will help me get through all the work I've got tonite!

New Week.

Sundays were sad as a kid. I guess it was just the realization that a new week was upon me, back to school, back to bedtimes, back to chores. As I've gotten older though, I see Sundays in a different light, now I do see it as the start of a new week, a chance to reorganize and try again to get things in order, to start fresh. I hope that the toilets and sinks get put in this week, the plumber seems to have a bit of a problem with doing what we want, instead he likes to do what he wants. I also hope that I can at least get my last week of class finished up without much hassle. I've got a group meeting this week and then its all done, grades should be turned in and I can breathe a bit easier until January. I also need to shop around with DH for another car. Living so far out in county house will mean that we have to have two vehicles now, not something I'm particularly happy about, but it has to be done.

I also hope that we can start to move things in bit by bit. Because of all the shish that has gone on with getting this house in order I don't really feel like its home, I hope that changes. I think that because of all the history that house contains I've been feeling a little unsettled, I keep reminding myself that we have to create new history in this space.

I remember the first time I ever saw the house. DH's mom had gone to the beach with some family members and so she needed him to go and get the mail, check things out, feed the cats. So DH (then my boyfriend) asked me to ride along with him, because his mom didn't care for me being brown and being with her nice cream-coloured son, she never spoke with me, nor wanted to meet me. So driving through the neighborhood and looking at her house made me feel like I was a spy. We drove around the block so I could get a good view of the house and see where DH grew up, and where I was not welcomed.

Fast forward now, 8 years later and I'm fuckin moving in. Its amazing. That house didn't have nae a brown person to come in there, and now there are going to be brown folks living there. I'm just amazed at how things can change. I would have never guessed that I'd live there. I am happy that we have made so many changes to the place, new colors, new walls, even new floors and siding and windows. I think DH and I both needed the place to be visibly different. Maybe I don't feel like its home just yet because I'm not there. Its also in quite a different location, I taint be no suburban girl, so this will take me some time.

I need to learn to be patient with myself, just tonight I was joking with DH that we could go ahead and sell the house now and move to Maryland. I like being on the Eastern shore. I like even more that its not Virginia. Since my granny passed my ties to this place are different. I'm happy that I have family here, but with very few (read 0) real prospects for school or work, I just don't wanna be here any more. But I don't have any real plans just yet, a few things I'm thinking about, but no real plans, so its probably best for us to be settled for the babe while we regroup and think things over.

New Week. New drink.

Reading something good

DH went to New York this weekend. New York, New York, city so nice they had to name it twice. eh.

But anyways, because he knew I'd miss him and need something to occpy my free time, eh, he went out and got me a book. [I am very proud to say that I'm starting to read non-babe related books again.] He got a book by William Henry Lewis, a Penn Falulkner Finalist, and a damn good writer if I can add my own .3 cent worth.

One of his short stories is called, "I Got Somebody in Staunton," and he's got this line that I just love:

"I'm back to feeling like a twenty-eight-year-old history professor, stuck in another situation where graduate degrees, pedagogical discourse, and academic distinctinction don't mean shit."

Its one of the best reads I've had in a long time. I wish I could scribe shit like that, where your voice just comes out like smooth butter on warm bread. Not like chunky ass govment peanut butter on .50 cent bread.

Random shit on eyes

When I was about eight or nine, or maybe ten, but young, young enough to still play with dolls and not care what others thought, I had a friend from school spend the night. Her family actually knew my family, our grandmas were friends or old neighbors, or something. Well, this girl's father died right before she was born. It was a sudden death, he was found drowned in his car in a ravine. I don't think anyone knew how it happened exactly. But she had been told stories about her father and his death, and the fact that her grandma never got over it, and I don't know how you could, now that my grandma has passed I understand what its like to loose someone and actually have a visceral reaction. But this girl would say really odd things, like she could see ghosts, around us. Needless to say, I was a bit spooked out.

So anyways, she came over one Saturday night to spend the night and we played with my dolls and stuffed animals in my room. Things would be fine and then she would proclaim she could see something or feel somebody. Later I went back and told my mom and grandma this and my granny remarked that the girl, "just won't right, she'd been marked by the death of her father." I thought something was odd about her, I mean I'd always liked playing dolls and enjoyed a scary story, but there was just something about her that made me feel uneasy. We were up in my room and playing with a huge stuffed animal that I had, it was like a pink dog or something loud and big. I tossed the animal up in the air and stretched out on my back on the floor to catch it with my feet (the acrobat in me). When it came down, something small from it, dust, dirt, I dunno, scratched the cornea of my eye.I rubbed my eye hard and turned my face over, shaking my head, hoping to get it out. She stood up beside me and got real upset when I started tearing up. I wasn't crying out of pain, my eye was just watering because there was something in it. We went downstairs to tell my mom what happened and she helped me to rinse my eye out with water. It felt better, but I still felt like my vision was blurry. My mom's answer for most anything sick related is to get some rest, so we went to bed early at that slumber party.

The next day, my eye still wasn't any better so we went to a patient first or some shit like that and they put this dye into my eye and shined a special light over it to show if there were any tears or ruptures. Sure enough whatever had fallen off that bear had torn a spot on my cornea. They gave me drops and had me wear an eye patch. Like a pirate. A real black patch.

It was a Sunday when that happened, and I remember my mom needed to go to the mall afterwards. I feel unsure now when I think back to how old I was, because I know damn sure that I was quite embarrassed to walk around that mall with that patch. So I guess I was old enough to have some awareness and care, but not too old to play with toys, or pretend I was a pirate.

I never had that girl over my house again. Her stories scared me and the fact that she saw things in my room that I couldn't bothered me even more. My vision didn't stay blurred for long and I got rid of the patch after a couple of days. I wonder what she sees now.