Statements of Intent

There's a post, which I've been occasionally writing, and then saving as draft, and then deleting, for the past few months. It's a post about the small compromises which I've made, and how they've made my life as a parent livable. It's about comparing the ideals I had before I procreated, to the realities of parenting. It's also about having to put away all the parenting books that seemed full of guilt messages, and just doing what worked for us.

And I've deleted that post over and over, because it turns out that I'm terrified discussing parenting choices on the internet. I've been around too long, and know that every small choice has become ridiculously controversial in certain circles.

This is more of a reminder for myself, and a statement of intent for my blog: while I have opinions, which I sometimes voice a little too strongly in personal conversations, I'm going to stay out of it. We're all getting by as well as we can, making sure that our kids are sleeping, eating and learning as well as they can.

While I'm making statements of intent: I'm also staying off the parenting boards, and I'm trying to lay off the books (outside of Mayo Clinic guides to development and stuff like that). I'm also making a valiant attempt to avoid googling my child's symptoms, because I'm enough of a hypochondriac about myself that nobody needs for me to start focusing my crazy on the next generation as well.

And now I'm going to make popcorn and watch a bunch of Arrested Development on Netflix, because in spite of the fact that I now have a kid, I'm still the reigning Queen of the Nation of West Procrasti.

I'll admit I've been keeping my cards close to my chest lately

Well, I didn't intend to disappear for such a long time! At first, right after I wrote that last post, I got very sick (as part of a series of stress-related illnesses), and stayed sick until the New Year. (Also, I got to try all kinds of powerful antibiotics, and may have experienced some rheumatic fever! Fun times at Christmas.) (As another aside, I am your perfect sick party guest: hobbling around, whining about "my rheumatiz." You guys missed a magical time.)

After I got home from that second trip home, my life was divided between the Bloggable But Stressful (Get the crazy chapter under control and come up with a workable plan for finishing soon!) and the Very Unbloggable Thanks To IRL People Reading This Blog (Let's apply for work closer to home! What if we start a family now?). Some days, it felt like every decision we were facing were some of the biggest decisions we'd ever made in our lives. And somehow they seemed so much scarier than the Big Decisions we made before (or maybe we were younger and more flippant than we are now.) Get married? Sounds like a wonderful plan! Move across the country for grad school? Hey, why not? Sounds fun. (Oh, to be 24 years old again.)

But now, we've made some decisions, finalized plans, and have even announced them on Facebook (you know, after I told people in person first, because I'm not a monster). We're moving home, and I'm pregnant!

Dear goodness, those words are simultaneously exciting and terrifying.

I seriously can't believe this is all happening. And I know that "I'm pregnant and we're moving home to the prairies" sounds like the beginning of a novel about giving up on your dreams, but both of these really feel like the fulfillment of life-long dreams for us. We got Chris a good job in our hometown, in the same city as our entire families. And, barring something major happening, we're staying there. I'm insanely determined to get this dissertation finished, and then I'll figure out what I'm doing. It's been years since I realised that I wasn't cut out for the tenure-track life, but I'll carve my own path. I love working with students, and I'd love to do something university- or research-adjacent. There will be something for me (and it's not urgent for me to find it: the top priority is finishing the dissertation and having this baby; Chris will be making enough to support us until I find something).

There's this part of me that fears some people will think I'm crazy for having a baby right now (well, at the end of December), or that I'm somehow wasting all this education by not aggressively pursuing a tenure-track position. Or that I'm crazy for having a baby at a point when I don't qualify for EI maternity pay. (But do you know how long it would be until I would qualify? And seriously: we'll be financially fine.)

Okay. Enough (heading-towards-an-outie) navel-gazing. I'll save the crazy medical details (How I've Spent The Past Month In Doctor's Waiting Rooms, and Why I Keep Baffling Medical Professionals*) for another post.

In honour of the move back to the homeland, let's finish off with an old school Question Time!

Time? 1:39pm

Surroundings? I'm in my office, surrounded by dirty dishes, kleenex boxes, and scraps of printed off translation material. (By the way, I have a cold, and the inability to take cold medicine: pure torture.)

Tea? Murchies Library Tea. (Why no, I haven't completely cut out caffeine. Why yes, I do know about the risks, but I also have read a terrifying number of medical journal articles and stay well under the safe limit.)

Wearing? Pyjamas, rubber-soled slippers, TARDIS bathrobe, hair that is standing straight on end. (It might be time to bathe soon.) (Uh, you guys, I just found out how much my sister spent on my new bathrobe...)

Stuck in my head? "A Hundred and One Pounds of Fun" from South Pacific. Because I forced Chris to watched the movie with me this weekend, and this is what I get in return. Mitzi Gaynor's voice in my head for the rest of my life.

What am I most thankful for? My Christopher. He's been phenomenal lately, doing all the cooking and cleaning (in addition to dealing with the madness of the end of the school year), since I've been so sick, sore and tired for the past couple of months. He's a good'un.


* Working title.

And then somehow I turned thirty-one

I got back to Victoria on Monday, after a week and a half that I can only describe as being bittersweet, after a week and a half during which time I constantly told people that I needed to "play things by ear." (Read: "I have decided not to make plans in advance, other than with my brother.")  It's impossible to describe such a trip as being "good," when you consider the circumstances, but I was glad to be home, glad to be with my family, and glad to have the family that I have. 

I spent a week sleeping in my childhood bedroom, which gave the week an extra surreal quality: I was sleeping there on my own (Chris having flown back after the weekend), in my room of twenty-three years. In that room, there were small remnants of my years there: the colour of the walls, one picture, one shelf, snowflake stickers on the window.  However, everything else in the room was from my Grandmother's years there, and more so from my sister's current occupation of the room.  It's like when the five of us (my parents, my two siblings and I) sat together in my parents' living room: it was familiar, and I could not escape all the evidence of what all has changed (and the reason why we were all together). 

Now I'm back in Victoria, trying to adjust back to my routine here, but also very aware of the fact that we fly back to Regina in a week, with all of my missed work looming over me.  And, in the midst of all of this, my birthday was yesterday.  I'm thirty-one now; I feel like I just got used to being thirty.  I really liked being thirty.  "Thirty-one" sounds strange to me.  And I usually make a big deal about my birthday; I invest a lot of emotion and expectations into the day.  This year, I could only handle small things.  Before I left Regina, I invited a couple friends and all their wee daughters over to my parents' house, to share ice cream cake with me.  (Having four kids -- all of whom call me "Auntie" -- blow out my candles was fun.)  Yesterday, I met two friends downtown in the afternoon; we had tea and went Christmas shopping at my favourite little stores.  My all-time favourite storekeeper hugged me five times and gave me a birthday present.  Then, my cousin Ky and I bussed to a restaurant, where we met Chris and a couple more friends for supper.

Hm. Now that I wrote that out, it sounds like I still made a big deal about my birthday.  It was all thrown together at the last minute ("The only day that's available for shopping is Thursday. Oh, that's Maryanne's birthday? Let's go for tea!" "You know, your birthday is on Thursday.  Shouldn't we at least go out for supper?") but I loved it more that way.  I've done the big-party thing, and that was a nice thing for other years. 

So, yeah. Thirty-one. Thiiiiiirty-one. Not too bad.  And it gave me an excuse to have a nice, relaxing day with friends.

Moments in the kitchen

I'm back in Victoria, back in the land of moderate temperatures and occasionally remembering I live by the ocean. I'm wearing long pants but no socks, and actually wore a light jacket this morning.  Classic late summer in Victoria.

It's so good being home after being away for seven weeks.  The fact that I'm in my own home and that I'm away from the high temperatures means that I feel like cooking and baking all the time.  It's not that I didn't have access to a kitchen while I was away: on the contrary, I even made this on my last week staying with the in-laws:

(The little-sister-in-law's wedding also played a major role in my being a little too busy to blog for the last part of our SK trip.)

But I didn't realise how much I had been homesick for my own kitchen until I made my porridge here on Sunday morning, and was all "Hello, My Own Measuring Cups! I missed you so much!"  And so, between the cooling weather, the overwhelming joy about being reunited with my own utensils and appliances, and my need to work through some challenges with my current chapter, I've been finding myself retreating to the kitchen.

I've also been thinking about what I love so much about preparing food.  I got reflecting on it again this afternoon, as I started making some polenta for our supper.  And I started making an incomplete list of my favourite moments in cooking and baking (in no particular order):
1. That instant, when making polenta, when the cornmeal I'm whisking in the boiling water suddenly thickens, and instead of having a loose mixture of cornmeal and water, I have this gloopy cornmealy mush that's sputtering everywhere.  (This is also one of the more exciting parts of my cooking process.)
2. The moment when sugar becomes caramel, and I have to pay close attention to the colour of it, so that it gets to be a satisfying dark colour but doesn't get burnt.
2a) The satisfying way in which caramel bubbles up and hisses when you add butter and cream to it, when making caramel sauce. 
3. (2b?) Turning a crème caramel out on a platter, and discovering that the caramel really did turn to liquid while the egg mixture hardened into a custard.  Simultaneously! In the same pan! Science!
4. Lifting off the lid of the heavy dutch oven and finding that a once-tough piece of meat has turned into something tender and wonderful, like pulled pork.

Those sorts of moments (along with that one when you open the oven and and see the golden tops of baked bread or pies) are what drive me to the kitchen, they're what get me finding excuses to make caramel sauce (admittedly more than my love of consuming caramel sauce): these physical and chemical transformations that, even when I understand the science behind them, seem like magic. I really still haven't lost my sense of wonder in the kitchen.  (Okay, one more moment like that: when I first try something that I have made, and discover that it actually tastes like food!  I still can't believe that's possible.)

I need a little more of a sense of wonder in my day.  Because there's not a lot of wonder or magic in the process of trying to get the words in my head to cooperate with the words on the computer screen, or in trying to make some sense of this current chapter.

You know, I used to have a sense of wonder about history and about writing.  Maybe it's time to reconnect with that.

(And now I'll stop rambling and eat one of those cookies that I made today.  Chris sure isn't complaining about the time I spent in the kitchen today.)

My last few hours as a twenty-something

Today I joked on Twitter that I would spend the last day of my twenties doing everything on Ted Mosby's Murtaugh List (from How I Met Your Mother), before I'm thirty and therefore too old to do any of that "stuff."  And, as predicted, the closest I've come to any of that is sleeping on a futon. 

But honestly, I've spent the last day of my twenties in the same way I spent most of the rest of the decade: quietly. I went to appointments, fussed over my dissertation chapter, spent too much time procrastinating on the internet, listened to melancholy Christmas music, and talked with my mother.  I had to use my SAD lamp a little more than usual, and drank an entire pot of tea, because it was a little darker outside than usual.  I got a little creative with supper. 

I feel like my life is on the brink again: I am looking forward to the end of my years as a student (finally).  I'm looking forward to my thirties.  I'm looking forward to beginning sessional teaching.  I'm looking forward to getting on to the rest of my life as a grown-up.  And, even as my daily life seems to look the same as it has for years, I'm starting to make small, superficial changes.  I became brave enough to chop my hair off, and found it to be good.  Last week, I went out and bought some nice clothes that fit my no-longer-twenty-five-years-old body, including a new little black dress.  (I got good wear out of that old one.)  This new dress really shows how much more comfortable in my body I am than I was ten years ago: it is figure-flattering.  Perhaps even figure-hugging.  Like, I have to shimmy and wiggle in order to get into the dress.  Actually, I pretty much have to roll the dress onto me like pantyhose.  And it looks fantastic.

I like coming to a place where I'm getting a little more happy with myself. 

What?! December?!

Yesterday, I looked at a calendar and realised that I ONLY HAD A WEEK LEFT OF MY TWENTIES.  And now there are only six days left, and then I'm thirty. 

What happened to November?  Actually, that's freaking me out more than turning thirty.  Thirty's not that old, and I think I'll like my thirties.  But two whole weeks of November disappeared before I noticed!  What?!

I just went through my Twitter feed, trying to figure out what I was up to during the past two weeks (it seriously feels like it should be at most November 20th here), and here's what I found:
1.) It snowed here! And the snow stayed for a couple of days!  And it pretty much shut down the city for the first day, even though we only got like an inch and a half of snow at my house.  And that's why Victoria is the Funniest Place on Earth to me.

2.) I completely finished reading that microfilm, and gave it back to Inter-Library Loans.  Now I'm just translating the pertinent parts and piecing together my next chapter.

3.) Chris built a Van de Graaff generator in our living room.

4.) (This is more of something that's happened over the whole month) We discovered that we can play Clue over Skype with friends far away.  As in the old-timey board game Clue.  It was my friend Shannon's idea, while she was visiting at the beginning of the month, as a way for us to get to know her fiance who lives in Hawaii.  We then also played it with friends in Regina.  (It helps to have a good internet connection and a game board on both sides.)

5.) Chris and I booked a trip to a spa resort on a nearby island, as our thirtieth birthday/Christmas presents to each other.  We'll be there on Chris's birthday.  If you'd asked twenty-year-old me how I imagined celebrating my thirtieth birthday, I don't think I would have said "I'll go to a spa."  But I'm happy with this plan, especially because neither of us has ever traveled to this island before.

6.) We just had a hectic weekend, during which not only did our favourite football team lose the Grey Cup again, but we also got bad news about several different friends and family friends (and then Janice spent Tuesday in the emergency room thanks to an allergic reaction), and so I spent a couple of days too emotionally tired and stressed out to blog. 

I guess that's where those two weeks went.  And now I have six days left until I turn thirty, and I think I'll spend those six days as quietly as possible (except for all the Christmas parties between now and then, and all the associated cooking).

Transitions

I have this delusion that I'm the sort of person who adapts well to new situations. I don't know where I got this idea. I ended up discussing this yesterday first with my counselor and then with my group that I call "Yoga for Depressed People," because somehow the theme of everything today was "Transitions and How Maryanne Struggles With Them." Okay, my yoga instructor missed that last six words when she announced the theme for the day.

On the small scale, I've struggled with the transition from working at the university on microfilm to working at home on my computer. I thought it would be an easy transition, because it's a return to my old routine. However, I guess it doesn't work like that when I've adjusted to another routine for so long. It's not an automatic thing where I fall back into the old patterns. I need to figure out what works and treat it like I'm setting up a new routine entirely, using the methods that worked well last time, instead of expecting that this is going to be an automatic thing.

On the larger scale, I feel like I'm entering into an entire phase of transition in my life. On Tuesday I turn 29, that year of transition between my twenties and my thirties. It's really hitting me how much I have to embrace the approach of my 30s, rather than stare in the mirror and wonder who that unfamiliar person is. (In my head, I'm 23. It's still confusing to me to find clothes that fit and look right on me, because I used to be able to grab them off the rack without trying them on.)

At the same time, as I get deeper into my dissertation, I start to face the fact that I'm working my way toward being finished being a student, after twelve years of university. Regardless of how long it takes for me to finish, this dissertation is the last thing before I graduate and have to enter Grown Up Life, where I earn money, (hopefully) don't live in a basement suite, and don't sleep in all the time. The further I get through this dissertation, the closer I get to the next part, where we move away from here and start a family.

And this is the funny thing: I look forward to my 30s. I look forward to being finished, and not paying tuition, and moving closer to home, and everything else that Being Finally Finished and Growing Up entails. But change always scares me a little, as does the realisation that I'm entering into a phase where I'm preparing for all that change. In yoga yesterday, we worked on paying attention to that space between breaths, on the transition from one physical position to the other, working on doing those things well and mindfully. And that's what I need to do with my life: instead of dragging my feet about the next phase, I need to stop and appreciate where I am now, and prepare myself for what comes next.

Giant-Proofing the House

Meg and Karl are on their way over tomorrow, and we've been preparing ourselves for how much the "wee" Andrew has grown since August. So, you remember roughly how big he was when he visited? (Go and check that link. You need to prepare yourself for the comparison.)

Meg just posted this picture of Andrew in his Halloween costume (so, two months after my picture?):
(I've been hearing rumours that he's already hit three feet tall, while still two and a half months away from his second birthday!)

Chris and I were looking around the house and realising that this kid can now reach almost everything that's breakable or dangerous. We're just going to have to play this thing by ear this weekend. Because Chris predicts that Andrew will now be able to reach the knife block on the counter, while I think that's crazy talk. It's a good thing that Chris is planning on wrestling the wee giant all weekend.*

I can't believe it's been a full week since I last posted. It's been a pretty busy week: I met with my supervisor and he helped me figure out how to streamline the research I've been doing. I've also been putting together a clear chapter-by-chapter overview of the whole dissertation, which helps sort out my thoughts. Also, today I went straight from yoga class to McDonalds, which might be defeating the purpose.

Finally, anyone who hasn't seen Chris's House Hippo Adventures needs to go check that out. I have the sweetest, silliest husband ever.

And now I'm going to sleep. (Can you tell that this started off as a coherent blog post and then went ramble-y and sleepy? I've been awake for a very long time now.)


* Apparently the kid really likes to wrestle now? How has he grown up so much? He's this visual reminder of how long it's been since I finished comps, because remember when he was this big?

Upon reflection...

I think I like my "ugly back-up glasses" and won't spend money on new ones yet. The ones I'd been wearing all the time had been the free ones of the "buy one get one free" deal from six years ago, and I'd never worn these expensive ones. I took people's advice from the comments in this post where I showed off the glasses, and plucked my eyebrows (and even put a tiny bit of eyeliner pencil on them) and wore eye makeup today. That helped, and they made me look more professional. I went and bought some new clothes (at Ricki's, with their lovely end-of-season sales) and decided that I'm happy with these.

Even better, I discovered that I don't actually need a stronger prescription: it's just that those other glasses had gotten all scratched up. Since I've never worn these for any length before, I can see through them perfectly.

(Still, I'm going to miss those glasses. I really like dark-rimmed glasses, and my face feels so naked wearing gold ones that blend in with my skin and my hair.)

Better

As I said yesterday (and am feeling even more today), it's strange how okay I am right now. Each time I was rejected for [Shirk] funding, I would hit a low point and would have trouble facing my research for a while. With [German travel funding], however, somehow there is no pain. I'm actually more driven to get my research done now, because I have a clear plan and am not waiting back to hear from anyone. Today I came up with a really decent list of newspapers I want to survey, and tomorrow I'm going to track them down and figure out how to order their microfilm. And I'm really not too worried about the financial side of my research. In fact, a friend reminded me that I'll be able to get a bit of travel funding from our department (and a couple hundred from the Faculty of Grad Studies -- even more if I can find a way to present at a conference while I'm there). So, that will help.

It might be that I've finally learned to separate my feeling of worth from my level (and sources) of funding. I'm not sure that it's entirely true, but it's possible.

What I do know is that I'm very much ready to move forward. I have a year ahead of me that's free from funding applications and teaching work; all I have is my dissertation. I need to make good use of this year, get this thing written, and move on with my life. That would be good.

(Next step: learning to be okay with telling people that I'm starting my fifth year of my PhD.)

The 2008 Meme

As seen at New Kid's and Profgrrrrl's:

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
Well, I got ABD status and started a dissertation! I ran a conference. (Now I'm running through the archives of this blog and finding other firsts.) I made a soufflé. I used a neti pot. I helped a friend give birth. Drove from Victoria to Regina (I've done the reverse, but never that trip.) Attended a Roughrider game with my in-laws. Found a spider in my teakettle. Owned a barbeque. Made birthday cakes from scratch. Roasted a turkey. Spent the entire Christmas break away from Saskatchewan.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't bother with New Year's Resolutions. Well, I guess I accomplished almost everything I intended to accomplish this year (other than the trip to Germany, which will happen next year), so that's something.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Meg and Karl had Andrew at the beginning of the year, and then Mark and Terra had Elora at the end of the year.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
I nearly made it a year without anyone close dying, and then Anna died just before the year was over.

5. What countries did you visit?
Just the US.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Mastery of the German language? Funding for a trip to Germany? Some real progress on my dissertation? Some form of self-discipline?

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I'm terrible at dates. I guess one that sticks out for me is January 30th, the day that Andrew was finally born. I guess also April 21st: the day I finished my comps exams.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Finishing my comps exams!

9. What was your biggest failure?
Well, my lack of progress would be one.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing major, beyond the usual colds, and the usual clumsy minor injuries. (This was the year I got injured while mini-golfing!)

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Either clothes that fit, or a subscription to Rosetta Stone.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Ky and LynnieC! They both moved out of the province for the first time, live on their own, and started intimidating school programs. I'm so proud of both of them, because that's some scary stuff. (Now I'm worried that their sister Bronwyn will feel left out! She always deserves celebration.)

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Too many public figures to even begin naming. 2008 has been a gong show.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Tuition and debt payments

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Well, all these elections sure got me fired up. If you didn't notice. Also, moving everyone to the West Coast!

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
I guess the whole Once soundtrack. I'll say "Falling Slowly," since that was the first one I heard (at the Oscars).

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Well, compared to last year at this time, a.) I'm a little sadder, b.) a bit fatter, and d.) a touch richer, or about even?

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
I wish I'd been a bit more active. I started off running, but then I fell off with that.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Procrastinating. I've lived up to my name a little too much.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent Christmas with friends.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
Well, I stayed in love!

22. How many one-night stands?
Of course not!

23. What was your favorite TV program?
Either Chuck or Battlestar Galactica.

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I try to avoid hate.

25. What was the best book you read?
Considering how many books I read this year, you'd think this would be easier to think of. I'm going to pick a non-academic one, the only new-to-me-non-academic-book I read all year: Home from the Vinyl Cafe by Stuart McLean.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Did I make any musical discoveries this year? I guess, since I was behind the trend on hearing Glen Hansard and now I'm listening to him quite a bit, that would be one.

27. What did you want and get?
ABD status. The Man from U.N.C.L.E. on DVD. Ky living in the same city as me.

28. What did you want and not get?
Greater financial security?

29. What was your favorite film of this year?
Mamma Mia!

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
On my actual (28th) birthday, I went to a nice restaurant with Christopher and we tried to spend as much of our $100 gift certificate (which we won) as possible.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Already knowing German by now. If I could have spent less of the year paralyzed by anxiety.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Trouser-legged pants have changed my life.

33. What kept you sane?
Christopher, of course. Well, he kept me the right kind of insane. Also tea. Litres and litres and gallons of tea. And the Vinyl Cafe podcasts, which were what would keep me calm when I was feeling panicky about my exams.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Why can't I think of this one off the top of my head? I need Ky around for this one. Considering the series of movies that Chris and I just watched, apparently it would be Colin Firth, or maybe Alan Rickman. Chris says "Tina Fey," which is I think his answer for what I would say?

35. What political issue stirred you the most?
Apparently the coalition issue?

36. Who did you miss?
My family.

37. Who was the best new person you met?
Hm. Who did I meet in 2008? I'm going to go with wee Andrew. Because he's ten kinds of awesome.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
I'm happiest when I work deliberately and take breaks deliberately, without the fuzzy in-betweens.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

What the h? I have to come up with a song lyric? I guess since this has been the year I've been working on and facing my anxieties:

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
to guide the future, as in ages past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
the Christ who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Little Christmas Eve Again

The "I'm not home for Christmas" homesickness hit today. I had friends over for rice porridge, for Norwegian "Little Christmas Eve." (We don't actually decorate on the 23rd; we make rice porridge and light candles.) I spent the day cooking and trying to make everything familiar, and somewhere in the middle of making the rice porridge and the cheese ball I sat down and cried for a while. It was all so familiar -- the twinkly lights, the smell of the porridge, the music in the background -- but I was alone (Christopher being away on errands) and so far away from my family.

I guess that's why I had such high expectations for today: I tried to make everything that we usually have at home. Some of it didn't work out (I ended up having to throw away my attempt at lefse), and I got entirely exhausted, but this day was important to me. I found myself worrying that my friends wouldn't be able to come over, or that I was stressing everyone out by making everyone celebrate yet another day around Christmas, but it all worked out beautifully. My rice porridge and my cheese ball (the two necessary elements of any Christmas, in my immediate family) both turned out perfectly. The chicken (the extra food, to counteract the overload of carbs and dairy, and in case anyone wasn't into porridge) was my best yet, the snow held off long enough that everyone could come and stay for a while, and everyone got along well. The candles glowed (and, uh, singed Derek's hair) and everything was familiar and comforting.

And I am happy and comforted. The rest of Christmas can happen now, and I won't be stressed out by it.


(I apparently spend every December 23rd feeling reflective, with a full heart, seeking the familiar. Here's my post from 2006, and here is 2005.)

I feel so stereotypical

I've never seen myself as the type to write a reflection on body image, and yet here I am.

I've been reflecting a lot lately on how much my body shape has changed over the past couple of years. I guess it's hard to avoid when you're looking forward to replacing your whole wardrobe on Boxing Day, because you only have two pairs of pants that fit comfortably. I've also been reflecting on it because my friend Brandy recently scanned and posted on Facebook a bunch of pictures from her wedding day, and so I've been looking through pictures of a twenty-one-year-old me. It's amazing what a difference seven years makes.

Now, this conversation isn't really headed where you think it is. Okay, I am still adjusting to the 25-30 lbs I put on since I got married, and I'm finding that I'm still figuring out how to dress for my body. It sure used to be easy to grab a size 4 item off the rack at Old Navy and buy it without trying it on. (It also was a lot cheaper, back when I could fit all the clothes I wore in high school.)

But mostly I've been reflecting on how weirdly relieved I've been now that I've gotten some curves on my body. (I'm still thin, but my body has a shape now.) And not relieved that I'm now considered a "healthy" weight: I've been relieved that now people will stop commenting on how weird and skinny I look.

I'm getting fairly sensitive when I hear people making joking comments about other people's thin bodies, because do you know what? The words "It disgusts me how skinny you are" do kind of give you a complex. They really do process into your brain as "I look disgusting," even when you're aware that it's a back-handed compliment. It really is not enjoyable when the only comments you hear on your looks are the words "disgusting," "frightening" and "bony." I still feel a little nervous about excusing myself to the bathroom during meals with groups of people, because of the number of times I've been (jokingly) accused of being bulimic.

Yes, I made jokes about myself being boy-shaped and weirdly skinny, with razor-sharp hips and ankles that were oddly thick for the rest of my body. But a little too much of that was about deflecting how awkward I felt in my own body. (Well, I think some of it was also that I somehow felt like I was supposed to be apologetic about not having "real woman" curves or something.)

And so it's taken me seven years to look at those pictures of myself as a 21-year-old maid of honour and see that I looked really good. Well, I could have stood up straighter and learned how to use blotting papers on my forehead, but I was pretty. And (even though I could use a haircut and some more clothes that suit my current rather than former shape) I look good now.

And let's all watch ourselves when we're commenting on other people's bodies, hey?

Readjusting my perspective

It was windy and rainy when I went outside to my car this morning, so windy that even my strong umbrella was having trouble keeping its shape. As I got to the car, my next-door neighbour lady passed by and asked where I was heading.

"To the mall," I answered.

"Well that's too bad. I'm headed the opposite way. Well, I'd better walk to the bus then." She looked soaked already, and as she walked down the road I remembered how her strength's not always so good since her last bout of leukemia. And so I got in the car and drove beside her, offering her a ride. It wouldn't be far and I had lots of time this morning.

As I drove, we talked. She and I talk maybe once a year, but she's the sort of talker that doesn't remain at small talk for long. She told me about their tenant they have in their basement suite, the one that lives in a similar suite to ours and who could look right into our dining room window until my landlords and neighbours built a higher fence.

For a long time, I thought their tenant didn't like me. When we first moved here, I tried to greet her and she didn't respond. When I was working in the kitchen, I would look out the dining room window and see her staring at me as she walked past. I would become immediately aware of the mess around me. I was convinced of this until Chris mentioned last winter that, after we got back from Christmas vacation, she had spoken to him. She hadn't seen us in a few weeks, and our lights were never on, and had been worried that something had happened to us. She was relieved to hear that we had just been on vacation.

Just this last week she spoke to me for the first time. We passed each other at our gates, just as she was leaving for the bus and I was getting back from dropping off Chris. She greeted me gladly, her voice beautiful and full of joy. I was so glad.

And then this morning, I gave her landlady a ride, and her landlady told me more about this mysterious woman (whose name I still don't know). My neighbour and I had been talking about how George and Joyce keep our rent low so that we don't move away, and she responded saying, "I don't know what we'll do in the future. We keep her rent quite low, you know, because her life's so hard, and she's supporting her whole family in Kenya. She's been with us for three or four years, and we've just been absorbing the extra cost."

It's strange to think that I'd always interpreted her initial suspicion as being because I was some kind of unwelcome newcomer. And here she was, having barely moved here from Kenya just before we got here, and barely keeping things together herself.

I need to get to know all my neighbours better. My first step should be introducing myself to her.

Tea and Illya

Do you know what's nice? Taking a day off on purpose. I did that today: I've spent the whole afternoon watching Man from U.N.C.L.E. episodes* and drinking tea. And it wasn't an "I wasted the whole day procrastinating because I was stressed out about important work and avoiding it" kind of break. It was an "I've gotten lots of work done and deserve an afternoon off for play" kind of break.

I also took an afternoon on Friday and had a Downtown Adventure with Ky. It was wonderful allowing myself to take a break without guilt. (It helped that I'd made a bunch of progress and felt like I was allowed to take a break.) I felt light; I chatted excitedly with shopkeepers and art gallery curators.

I need to remember to do this more often: work when I work and play when I play. Not live in the fuzzy, guilty in-between. (And I know I've said this a million times before.)





* I got it for Very Early Birthday-Christmas from Chris, my sister, my brother, and my sister-in-law-to-be!

Obsessive glasses-blogging

My regular glasses (which are many years old by now) have been hurting me a little, because the plastic wore off of one of the arms in such a way that it scratches my head constantly. It's gotten to be too much, lately, and so when I'm at home I'm wearing my alternate pair of glasses (the pair that came free when I bought my regular pair).

Unfortunately, I do not love how I look in these glasses:

Do you see the problem? I feel like they give me tiny eyes. It's like I need much larger quantities of eye makeup or something. It freaks me out whenever I look in the mirror. But? Much more comfortable. I'm just not wearing them out of the house. But I felt the need to blog this.

Two unrelated things that are making me smile today

(I wrote this on Sunday and forgot to post it until today)

First: While I was in Vancouver, Meg and I got our invitations for our ten year high school reunion. They booked it for a weekend when we will both be in Regina! And it sounds quite nice: formal-ish evening event (dressy but booked at a curling club) and then the next morning there's a family pancake breakfast on the lawn of our high school.

I didn't realise that I'd be so excited. I think it helps that I had such a nice time at the wedding of two high school friends, last summer. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again, and it's nice having something to look forward to. (Face it: we all knew that I would be the sort to attend the reunions. I was also the Assistant Editor of the yearbook!)

Second: I have been cooking a bunch with my two favourite toys in the kitchen -- my KA mixer and my well-seasoned cast iron frying pan. I stole the frying pan from my Mom, and had it in with my camping gear for years. My Mom took it from Grandma. Seriously: it's well-seasoned. Everything cooks so nicely in it, and it's surprisingly non-stick.

My friend Rebecca got me digging out my frying pan from the camping gear after she demonstrated how wonderful popcorn tasted when popped in cast iron. And now I use it for everything. (My favourite: marinating chicken breasts in "Sweet Saskatchewan Heat" hot sauce and then frying them up on the pan. I tried it first on a camping trip, and now I crave it all the time. Chris's favourite: we made our best nachos ever by putting them in the oven in that skillet.)

QoWP: With Family and Pseudo-Family (Part 1)

I'm back to thinking about what you need to know in order to understand me better. It has struck me that one of the necessary factors you need to understand is my place within my "families." I think I've talked plenty about my place within my actual nuclear family; that's pretty simple. But the thing is that I'm also part of a very large and closely-knit extended family (and I'm related to everyone, it sometimes seems) and I also have a bunch of honorary sisters and cousins, in several interconnected circles.

Chris learned this complicated lesson rather quickly after we started dating. When he first came to one of my church camps, I brought him along to a restaurant where he was the only male among the entirety (plus my sister) of the gorgeous and sometimes overwhelming group that we've started to call the "Teen Girl Squad". (Kara -- the bride in the photo below and our sometimes ringleader -- is the one who doesn't have a blog for me to link.)

Hrm. Perhaps that photo doesn't quite demonstrate what might have been overwhelming about these women; we're all trying to look normalish. Here's one that's a few years older that might demonstrate my point a little better:


Much better. We're missing Kara in this one, but the photo was taken by her and at her command, and so her stamp is there.

At this Humpty's Restaurant in North Battleford, Chris got to witness Ky drop ice down Kara's shirt, and then see Kara reach down and pull the ice out, drying out her cleavage with napkins. He got to witness his new girlfriend be goaded by the entire group into giving a "Wet Willy" to someone at the table behind us. (It was someone we all knew, but still.) I think that was the first time he found out that his girlfriend thought poop jokes were funny. (I'm glad that he survived and became friends with all of them.)

The girls and I have gone through phases of growing apart and back together, of ganging up on one another, of feeling like the outsider in the group, of being worried about each other, and of being convinced that every other one was the "pretty one." But we always fall back together. It's nice having that, and always has been.

(Upcoming Navel Gazings on my other 'family' dynamics: "Yes, I think of all of them as my sisters. But only one of them is actually my sister. But the other three are sisters with each other"; "The children who aren't closely related to me but call me 'Auntie'"; "We started referring to ourselves as 'The Family' long before we knew that every single member except Karl would marry within the 'family' and suddenly it would sound creepy explaining it to others.")

QoWP: The Required Reading

I was talking with Derek last night, and he said that he'd made Ariann watch High Fidelity while keeping in mind that she would understand him better as a result of watching the movie. That got me to thinking: what would be the required reading/watching/listening for understanding me more fully?

(I gave Derek the same challenge, and so you may see his response in the next while.)

I think there are two ways to approach this question: you can list the works that had a formative influence on you, or you can list works that describe you well. And I think I'll go with a combination of both.

Required Reading:
The formative books:

• Emily's Quest by L. M. Montgomery
• The Blue Castle, LMM
• Anne of the Island, LMM
• Little Women, L.M. Alcott (in addition to the most recent film version)
• Summer Gone, David McFarlane
• Beyond Ourselves, Catherine Marshall
• Philip Yancy's Where is God When It Hurts?

To understand the way in which I analyse people these days, you probably would also need to read something like The Five Love Languages.

Academic Reading:

• Remembering war: the Great War between memory and history in the twentieth century, Jay Winter.
• Rites of Spring, Modris Ecksteins.

Required Listening:

• Side B of Simon and Garfunkel's Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.
  
• Cat Steven's Teaser and the Firecat
• Joni Mitchell, "Free Man in Paris" and "River."
  
• The entirety (until the instrumental ending) of the Christian compilation Streams. (Probably to act as background to a reading of Where is God When it Hurts?)
  
• You'd probably need to listen to Janis Ian's "At Seventeen", at least to understand my teenaged self.
• And then counter-balance it with India.Arie's "Video."
• And finally the Association's "Along Comes Mary."
  

Required Viewing (mostly formative):

• At least an episode of season 1 or 2 of The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
• Hello, Dolly! but you'd have to sing along while watching it, to get the full effect.
• Also: Oklahoma! but you'd have to dance along with "Many a New Day."
• Breakfast at Tiffany's
  
• You've Got Mail (mostly it justified any quirkiness that I have, and especially how disgusting I am when I have a cold: it can re-define all of that as "cute").
  
• Out here, people really would have to watch a few episodes of Corner Gas to understand most of anything that Chris and I say. And, really, everyone should watch the cartoon of Robin Hood to understand anything that my cousins and I say to each other.
• Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, but not their Bogus Journey.
  

What about you? What would you recommend for your required reading/viewing/watching?

The jumbly thoughts in the head of an exam grader

• Is there some sort of conspiracy going on with my students this year, in which every time they forget the first name of a historical figure they just call him "William"? In previous years I think my students gave their historical figures the first name of "John." This year it's all "William," all the time.
• I wonder if it's the result of something in popular culture, like when all the history essays I marked during the escalation of the war in Iraq over-used the CNN word "embedded," and started bandying about the phrase "coalition forces" instead of "the Allies." (Trivia: a significant percentage of students writing about any historical war will refer to the perceived "good guys" as "the Allies".)
  
• You know, I miss ANTM's Victoria. I wish she hadn't gone crazy on Twiggy and made Tyra scared that she'd throw a shoe at her, because Victoria would have laughed out loud this week when Jay announced (waaaay too exuberantly) that the girls were going to pose as "High Fashion GARGOYLES!"
  
• I wonder if my usage of red pen (but it was the first pen I could find!) is going to give my students low self esteem.
• Can I manage to eat a bowl of cheddar-flavoured popcorn without getting orange fingerprints on these papers?
• I wish shoemakers still made square-toed dress shoes. I think my wide-toed feet will die dead if the narrow-toed shoe hegemony continues any longer.
  
• Note to self: get more people watching Chuck so that it isn't cruelly taken away from me mid-season.
• Are those cobwebs in the dining room window?
  
• Did I remember to eat lunch today?
  
• Are other people as distractable as I am when they're grading?