Bad Pooh-Pa

The babe has been having pooh-pa like crazy. (Translation- bowl movements, I just think pooh-pa is so much cuter and so does she because she laughs when I say, "Did my babe just have a pooh-pa or a wee?) Its amazing how much your vocabulary changes with children. A year ago I was saying things like, "through the application of Burke's theory of terministic screens, we can deconstruct.." I think the later statement was filled with more pooh-pa than the babe's diaper.

She is teething and has a bit of a belly upset so that accounts for the pooh-pa.

In my last post I asked about writing and finding time to do my 'work'. Well, you know what I've discovered? Some things don't work like they used too. At one time I taught 6 undergraduate classes (5 comp, 1 lit, and 1 volunteer ESL). Now, I'm teaching 2 paid ESL, 1 comp, and trying to get back into the swing of writing. Its not working. So, I'm stepping down from some of my teaching duties (now just teaching 1 comp) and focusing on moving us into our new house and then working on getting the writing thing going again. I've become much better at balancing since having the babe.

I can totally understand what Tree is going through over at Cheese & Responsibility

I'll call mine, The Stages of Super Woman Overextension

1. I can: wash clothes, feed a babe, pump milk, make breakfast, read papers, post assignments, prepare notes for a meeting, take babe for a walk, record favorite TV show, make grocery list, hire a plumber, find a trustworthy carpenter, research buying a new car, and take a shower before 2 PM.

2. It's 2 PM, I have feed the babe, pumped milk, but have not quite made it out of the bedroom because the babe wants to be really cute and show me how she can roll over and over and over and stick fingers in her mouth. Finding a way to pee when the babe has become mobile takes me at least 2 hours. Its okie, I still have 2 hours before class.

3. Its 3PM, now I panic. I've had no shower, my hair is standing on end (babe looks at it funny), she has been fed again and re-diapered and is happy. I have no notes for class. I didn't make groceries. I think I forgot to eat. Babe needs to eat again. Need more diapers.

4. Time for class. Who wants to write about diapers and wipes?
I'm sweating. Did I put on deodorant? My hair is not behaving. My notes are scattered. I ate gross nuggets and too-sweet tea.
I wonder what the babe is doing.

5. Fuck it, my babe was fed, happy, and I actually got us both out of the house in one piece.

6. I have some time in between classes. I'm reading other blogs. People out there have kids and manage to work, have successful academic careers and families. What the hell is wrong with ME?

7. I call to check on the babe. She is good. I miss her. Daddy says she is eating her fingers and smiling.

8. I try to research for the article I'm working on. I look at babe's pic on my laptop and miss her horribly. I feel guilty. I should be at home with her. I should not make her drink from a 'baba' she should be with me at all times! I want me babe!

9. I see an old grad school friend, she is getting a PhD now. I have stopped my studies for babe, I am good with this, but she makes me feel like I should be able to do it.

10. I'm o.k. Class is almost over. I get home around 10 PM, babe is up and happy. She and I will play until the wee hours of the night and then try again tomorrow.

This is why my lists get longer as the week goes on because I can never quite finish everything. The old me would try hard to do so, I would even cry if I couldn't. But not the new me. The real *super* woman. I realize that my priorities are the babe, myself, and DH. That's it, everything else is just frosting, if the cakes are good the frosting I can wing.

I am re-thinking my plans. I thought I'd try grad school next Fall, but instead I think babe and I might learn a new language, I also think I'll build a play set, I've always wanted to use wood. I'm going to focus on family and my writing. Grad school can wait, for now the babe is in command.