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Purring Prophecy

"...the sound was heavy with knowledge."

Updated: 2018-03-06T03:51:21.720-05:00


I might be back...


I haven't been here in 3 years.  I'm not sure anyone even reads it anymore!  But I'm thinking of starting up again...I know it would require reconnecting with bloggers old and new...but it will be soon.

Courting the God Morpheus


S'okay - I realize that it's been almost a month since I last blogged - and that was from the hospital. Hopefully there are a few of you still out there checking in periodically, so I wanted to say hi and blog about something that's been on my mind lately - and that is sleep.I know there's a bunch of research saying how adults actually need more sleep than we used to think - 9 hours is not considered too much. But what I've been up against lately is the full set of cultural baggage surrounding sleep and what it says about your status in life, your responsibility level, laziness, etc.Here's the deal: I like to sleep. A lot. I like staying up late and sleeping late. Having twins puts a cramp in this, obviously. But, having twins and 3 surgeries in 9 months makes it mandatory that I get enough sleep, in my opinion. But what is enough? It's not just what each individual body needs - and that differs greatly from person to person. It's what other people think you should have.The baggage is this, I think:1) If you "sleep in" (i.e., after, say 8 or 9 am), you're either an infant, a college student, unemployed, and/or lazy.2) If you're a parent and you're not sleep deprived or if you don't get up for the day at 5-6 when your children initially arise, you're a bad parent.3) If you nap during the day (either when you should be working or when someone else is taking care of your children b/c you pay them to), you're lazy and you're a bad parent. 4) If you need 9-10 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period, you're probably depressed.It's funny b/c when babies are first born, they tell parents to sleep when they sleep, which means you're supposed to catnap all day, which is impossible b/c - you know - I'm an adult. BUT, when they get older, sleep through the night, and wake up at 6, you should get up, too.Sirs Guy and Miles awaken anywhere between 4:45-6:30 and want their morning bottle. I stagger out of bed, give it to them, change their diapers, throw some toys into their cribs, and then stumble back to bed, where I put EAR PLUGS in and an eye pillow and sleep as long as I bloody can - sometimes until 8:45 if they don't freak out. Now, they are fed, safe, not sitting in their own filth, and (hopefully) not too bored. I can hear them scream through my ear plugs (at which point, I would get up and take care of them), but the plugs keep out the babbling and vigorous shaking of rattle toys that would otherwise impede my sleep. During the day, I often sneak home and sleep for an hour and a half, especially if the boys are at my mom's during the day. I know parents who have told me that they wouldn't trade the couple of hours they get to spend with their children before daycare for anything in the world - I sleep.The thing is, I feel guilty about this. Why? Partly b/c TD, and I love him, doesn't get as much sleep b/c he has an hour commute and HAS to be at work for 8 hours a day. So, he's resentful. Medieval Pop and Mom both have always been early to bed, early to risers (goddam Ben Franklin) - but they act like it's some kind of MORAL INDEX when they get up early - probably again, b/c of goddam Ben Franklin. Medieval Pop was just visiting for the weekend and would get very resentful when I'd sleep in until 9am (also because I wasn't taking care of his needs, entertaining him, and feeding him early enough, but that's another post). But, he felt morally superior - like I wasn't facing the day and taking care of my children. I've realized just how prevalent the idea of the inherent morality of rising early and (potentially) sleeping too little really is - along with that comes the condescension (whether because of jealousy or otherwise) with which those people deal with those (like me) who need and take more sleep.I've promised myself that I would stop apologizing for sleeping "too much" - and at some point, I will stop reminding my family that I've have health problems, etc. - because that dog won't hunt much longer. I've been frantically trying to find ways to explain my need for and desire to[...]



Surgery went incredibly well - haven't needed much pain medication (this will likely change a bit tomorrow) and I'm up and shuffling around a bit. Even better, I know longer have a giant cyst in my chest! Yay!

Thanks for your good wishes - I'll keep you posted!

Good Thoughts


I know I've been a SHIT-TAY blogger these past few months! Lots has been happening; childcare issues, traveling, house buying, finishing the semester, etc. I owe ya'll an update, pics of the house, pics of the babies.


I have to have surgery on Friday to remove a big honkin' cyst from my chest. It's not a big deal (at least for the surgeon it's not) and they only make 3 incisions, but I don't do well in the hospital b/c I feel like a caged animal, so I'm stressed. I'll only be there a few days, but still.

Can you send some good vibes my way, even for an erstwhile blogger?

Also, I just got stunk-up by a stink bug. It wasn't pleasant. My nose feels violated.

Pavlovian Wiggle Dance


As we all know, Pavlov was right with his dogs and all. But it also holds true for babies. Sirs Guy and Miles have begun a strange ritual wherein they do a special dance whenever the serviette (our hotsy-totsy word for a burp-cloth) is placed on their chest in advance of their bottle. It can only be described as a kind of undulating break dance move (I know, because I could do something similar back in 1984) with their mouths open in urgent expectation like this:


So, this is a representation of the mind of a six-and-a-half-month-old around feeding time:

1) [*vague urge begins*] Wasn't their something called a bottle? Didn't I like it? I wonder when it will come to me again. Hmmmmmzzzzzzzz.......

2) [*urge becomes more urgent*] Okay, I wasn't kidding around. I kinda would like to have that bottle-thing again. Hello? Are you listening to me? Fine, I'll crap in my pants to get your attention...

3) [*urge become obsession*] bottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottlebottle.......

4) [*obsession leads to fury*] Where the f_ck is my BOTTLE!!!!!!!!!

5) [*fury leads to utter despair*] There will never be another bottle. All is lost. I'll just curl up here in the corner of my bed, like a farty little croissant, and try to suck on my fingers for a little nourishment. My minutes are numbered...

6) [*magic serviette is placed upon them*] JOY! THE BOTTLE COMETH AFTER ALL!

7) [*cue the Pavlovian Wiggle Dance*]

By the way, I'm eating nachos for breakfast.

Still here...random fluff


My god, it's been a while. Are people still even checking to see if I blog anymore? I wouldn't blame you...

Things here have been GREAT, just BUSY AS SHIT! And shit is bu-sy (pronounced "bi-zzay").

Here's all I'm capable of at the moment (must prep for classes tomorrow):

1) We survived a week-long Spring Break to the Real Dutchmanlandia - 7-8 hour flights were okay - Sirs Guy and Miles did extremely well all said. Sir Guy is teething and, thus, being a bit of a jerk. I'm glad to be home.

2) And speaking of home, we're moving in less than 2 weeks! And Medieval Mom is moving here in 4 days! Gah!!! But, the windows in our new place are installed, rooms painted, shelves built in closet, appliances to be delivered on Saturday. All overseen by yours truly. It looks so beautiful, it makes me want to cry. Will post pics when all is arranged.

3) Book is in editing stage - estimated to come out in October. Joy! Also, will contribute another article to a special issue of a journal and am going to contribute a new piece to another edited collection. Fortunately, deadlines aren't looming.

4) But one deadline is looming and that's a talk I'm giving on new material in early April - it's a short talk, but still - needs to be written!

5) Sigh. I have to have chest surgery in late April to remove a cyst that's next to my heart and that's getting too big (it's the size of a baseball now). It's fairly straightforward and asymptomatic at the moment, but it's annoying and it needs to come out. I'll be in the hospital for a couple of days and it's a 10-14 day total recovery, so it's not that big a deal - similar to a gall bladder. It's not cancerous and apparently I've had it since birth, it's just getting too big and we found it when they did the scan when my gall bladder turned in its notice. But, I'm still not looking forward to it.

6) What I do look forward to is June. My talk, our move, my surgery, my summer class, everything will be over by June. And then I'll be able to take it easy. I'll also officially be on research leave until January! So, come hither, June....

Krapatoa, n.



The volcanic ass-explosion of a baby of such seismic proportions that the villagers run screaming in terror...

See also Mt. Ves-"eeeeew"-vius, n.

Still here!


I'm sorry I've been such a poor presence on this blog lately - the holidays were a bit of a blur - a good blur, though. And we started back to school last week, so it's been interesting getting back into it.

Also, my final book MS is due to the publisher on Feb. 1 (i.e., in their hands in the UK) and a bunch of tedious department service paperwork is due to my university a week later. In early April I travel to give a talk (which is new material I have to write) and in the middle of that, we close on our house, move, and also spend a week in Holland with the Sirs Twain.


I need to get back into my work hole...

As if the previous post wasn't enough...

2010-12-22T19:52:00.620-05:00 book manuscript is now under contract!!!!


Major Milestone


Last night - at 3 months and 10 days old - the twain slept through the night!!!

They went down at 9:30 after their mega-feeding and then Sir Miles woke up at 4, but was mollified in 3 minutes when TD gave him a binky and then they slept until 6am! After another mega-feeding, they slept until 8:45!

It's a Christmas miracle.

Let's see if it happens again...

How I get work done in the mornings...


Get up when the Sirs do (today at 7:30!) - feed and change them. Put them back down in cribs - then move Sir Guy into our bed b/c he likes to sleep there in the morning. I put his little head on the pillow, put a couple of pillows on either side so he can't roll, pull the covers up halfway and he looks just like a little adult!* Then I sneak upstairs with a Coke Zero and a box of Nilla wafers and work on my book revisions. I'm hoping they'll sleep until about 10:30-11:00. Our motto around here is "let sleeping babies lie" - and I tell TD when he comes home from work and wants to pick up one of the cute, slumbering little butterballs: "You wake; you buy."

In other news - we bought a house! We were going to buy a Christmas tree last weekend but instead we bought a house. It's not the one that needs renovation - it's actually another one that's already totally renovated - a 1922 4-bed bungalow with a sunroom and adorable yard. And a big front porch with a swing! The house is exactly the color of wasabi...

Back to work!

*I know I won't be able to do this when he's older b/c he could get tangled up - but for now he doesn't move much.

Random Bits of HELLS YEAH!!


Sorry for not posting for so long - Medieval Mom was here for an extended stay and it was a little crazy-making.

Here's the skinny:

1) Heard this morning from the publisher with the reader's report on my R&R for the book manuscript - it's extremely positive and recommends publication, so the chief editor is going to take a formal proposal to the editorial board!! JOY!!! I know it's not a done deal yet, but it feels really good to be so close!

2) TD and I have minor colds. I'm sure Guy and Miles will get them too. Why is this okay? See fluff-point #1 above.

3) Guy and Miles have been sleeping for 4-5 hours straight - a lovely thing! In 4 weeks, rice cereal will be administered and then bliss will ensue.

4) TD and I are looking for a house to buy - we have an appointment with a contractor on the awesome house we tried to rent last year. It's still on the market and I'm still in love with it. It needs work, but if we could get a ballpark estimate from this guy, it would help us determine whether we can afford it or not. I hope the house isn't falling apart...

5) I have the hiccups.

6) Still...

7) *hic*

This may be a bit inappropriate, but...


...I want to ask my therapist out on a play date.

Okay. She's about my age, she has a little boy only six weeks older than Sirs Guy and Miles and she's SO cool! I think I like her like her...

Actually, I really like her as a therapist, too. She's smart, Ph.D. in Psychology, she challenges me, she's funny. My last appointment when I was feeling so overwhelmed with everything, I thought I would go in there and cry, but we ended up laughing our asses off the whole time about kids, life as a new parent, etc. It was exactly what I needed and she said it didn't even feel like therapy...

Do you think she feels the same way about me? I mean, do you think she might want to have our kids meet at some point? I find myself looking at the picture of her little boy on her desk and thinking about how nice it would be for the three boys to play together and Dr. M and I can slug back a pitcher of margaritas.

The kids are still too young to really play together, so I figure I have time before I actually have to pop the question. But I just know that at some point I'm going to have to ask her if she wants things to go further. Will I need to get another therapist? Would it be inappropriate to see each other socially? I keep thinking about whether her husband and TD would get along...


I have such a crush...

A quick article bleg


Thanks for the encouragement, guys! I'm feeling tons better now that I've recovered a bit!

Quick question - can anyone tell me the title/author of that article about mothers using medieval romances to teach their daughters? I know there is one (it seems like it was in an essay collection) and I can't remember or find it for the life of me!

Feeling so overwhelmed


Yep. That's me.

It's taken me a while to admit that, but it's true. Having twins is hard. They both start crying at the same time. Each feeding takes 45 minutes if you're doing it yourself. I don't know what they want from me. I can't pick them up at the same time b/c I'm not strong enough and they're gaining tons of weight. When I do try to pick one up to calm him down I usually get kicked in my gut somewhere around my incision and it hurts like hell.

I've had 3 surgeries in two months all of which required varying kinds of anesthetic, from general to local to in-between. My post-partum anxiety and anemia threw me for such a loop and just as that was subsiding, the gall bladder thing happened. I haven't felt healthy in so long.

The boys - Sir Guy in particular - have been so fussy lately - they're awake much more now during the day and they. just. cry. Sometimes no amount of holding, changing location, distraction will make them stop. They're still too young to really play and be entertained and it's just so hard with two of them. They sleep really well at night (with intermittent feedings), but the days and especailly evenings are a chore.

No one needs to worry about me - I have all the support we can afford and rely on from friends and I'm seeing all the proper peeps. But even with all that, I still feel overwhelmed. I just want to stop being sore and exhausted all the time.

I know lots of you don't have kids - I just wanted to vent a little. Thanks.

How galling...still here...


Sorry I've been so out of bloggy touch - the boys have been growing well (in fact, 2 months old today) and I've been doing great - helping Medieval Mom try to find a house, etc.

And then...


Last Sunday afternoon, bad pain in upper right quadrant of belly. Trip to doc's office on Monday yielded a CAT-scan and a potential enlarged gall bladder. Trip to general surgeon's office on Tuesday confirmed suspicion. The fact that I was still in continuous pain and taking the percocets that I had (thankfully) never taken after my c-section meant that I needed to have the thing out soon for fear of infection. Thursday morning, have a "lap-chole" (where they go into your belly-button and take something out) to remove offending gall bladder (which apparently has a jawbreaker-sized gallstone in it). It was pretty bad and it's a good thing it came out. Doc decides to keep me overnight so he can give me IV antibiotics and so that a gastroenterologist can take a look at an x-ray of my bile duct that might have a stone in it. GI-doc decides the next morning that my liver enzymes are a little elevated, which warrants doing an endoscopy to check for another stone creeping around in there. Low and behold, they find one, take it out with their endoscopy tool and then tell me I'm "too perky" to stay in the hospital another night, so they send me home yesterday afternoon.

So, now, I'm without any kind of gall issues remaining (I hope) and I'm just healing from what was ultimately a routine couple of procedures - it's just that they SNUCK THE HELL UP ON ME!!!!!! I'm telling myself that I don't need to begin weaning myself off of the Vicodin completely just yet - that I'm not a wimp if I still take it! Or if I still have pain...

Speaking of which, I'm going to go have a vicodin now...

A question about bloglines


Okay, so what are people doing about the demise of bloglines? It's closing on Nov. 1? How do I move all my blogs over to another reader?


Who am I?


I've been giving a lot of thought lately to how I feel about being a mother - I've started seeing a new therapist (I'm nothing if not proactive about stressful periods in my life) and it's been good to talk about it a bit with her. It still hasn't hit me quite yet that I am a mother - I mean, it's hit me in one sense, an immediate sense. There are 2 little babies who rely on me (and my support team) for their basic needs. But I still don't always connect them with the fact that they were inside me. I know I love them (in the sense that I would throw myself in front of a bus for them), but it's not always a conscious feeling.

I think I'm staring right into the face of the myth of all-encompassing, positive motherhood. Just like those Rockwellian Christmas myths, I thought that I would feel more connected to them than I often do. That I would feel the urge to weep with joy and unending love every time I look at them. That it would be one big skin-to-skin love-fest bonding ceremony. But I often see them as just needing from me. Now, granted, I'm feeling better after the anemia and hormonally-induced craziness has begun to calm down and I have more to offer them. But my feelings about them are still very complicated and evolving. Sometimes I have to remind myself that my life has changed so dramatically - they will be with me for so long. How do I feel about this? What does this mean to me?

People say that your life will never be the same - but what will it be? These are the big questions. Different? Yes. Good? Yes. Better than it would have been without them? I think so - in the final tally, I know I'll never truly regret having children (however much I might regret it in certain moments). But I expected to feel more...stable about them than I do. I think I might be falling in love with them. Like I did with TD. The first time I met TD, the next day I remember saying to a friend of mine, "I just really like that guy." And it grew from there to the point to where I love him with all my heart.

Could it be the same with children? Could it be that I love them in one basic, primal way, but I'm also in the process of falling in love with them in another, subtler, more cerebral/emotional way?

I've been thinking this is the case. And I've been thinking that that's okay.

Where is Medieval Woman??



Still here! Anxiety is all but gone (thanks to meds and time) - Guy and Miles are one month old today - they are getting fussier, but I've heard this peaks around 4-6 weeks and then dissipates at 8-10 weeks once their circadian rhythms get more set. Otherwise, they're gaining weight like champs and being cute little grubs.

I am feeling tons better with the anemia - the numbers are on the rise and in a couple of weeks I'll have another hemoglobin check. Medieval Mom is here until Saturday, so that's been a big help (she takes the 3am feeding! What have I done to deserve such grace?)

I've started to think about work in the middle of the midnight feeding, when all is quiet on the western front. How will I approach this new article project? What do I need to begin researching first? These are just little synapses firing late at night, but hopefully in a week or so I'll be able to handle some sustained attention to the issue.

More from the incubator...


We're getting this! We can do this. Things are getting better and my anxiety was slightly less today than it was yesterday. Does this mean that hormones are working their way through my system? Surely it does.

We took some fun pics today:

May I present Sir Guy -

And Sir Miles -

How jaunty are they? Do they pricketh throughout the countryside looking for damsels to rescue??

Other tidbits:

1) My mother leaves tomorrow and je suis desolee! This hasn't happened before. She comes back in a week and a half for 11 days - JOY! Who am I?? And she's moving here in a few months. Thank God!! Who knew?

2) Went to the Dr. Canadienne today to discuss meds and it was a good conversation - even better? They did a weight check - I HAVE LOST 40 POUNDS SINCE 2 DAYS BEFORE I DELIVERED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3) I am now taking a natural organic iron supplement to help my anemia rather than the caustic guerilla pills they prescribed for me (Dr. C said I could) - those killed my gut and these are easy on it. I am now out of the range where they suggest transfusion!! (I'm an 8 - normal is 12-16) I'm inhaling spinach, watermelon, and red meat.

4) Periodically, one of the boys will let loose a single, blood-curdling, ear-piercing scream. We call it their primal scream therapy.

Rawr! and the First Night...



Yes, my friends - that is Guy! Miles was born exactly one minute later...our little ones arrived on Monday (Labor Day??) at 35 and 1/2 weeks. They didn't have to spend even a minute in the NICU, which was amazing and they came home with us yesterday. They are small, but beautiful; immature in some ways and mature in others. The Furballs are terrified but curious - what could these gabbling things be??

What follows are some of my observations and feelings - they're all jumbled up, but here they are!

1) This sounds cliche, but I am totally in love...pure, unadulterated love.

2) I am also stressed out beyond my wildest ken - how can these two emotions co-exist so much? Last night - our first night at home - was so insane. And they weren't even fussy per se! It was just being home, needing to get up every 3 hours at least, to feed them, not really sleeping more than 3-4 hours. I know - I need to get used to this. TD and I are reeling.

3) Medieval Mom is also here until Thursday, so I can't imagine how it would be were she not in residence.

4) The birth was steeped in stress, particularly the days following it, which is why I'm dealing with such anxiety at the moment, I think. The c-section proper was uneventful, even textbook. But we had to do it far earlier than planned because my BP was just consistently way too high. After that, I had a series of events including crashing a bit because of a wonky reaction to something, perhaps nausea, I'm not sure, it's all a blur, but it was very scary for TD. Then we thought all was well but those damned BPs kept creeping up again and they wanted to keep me longer. This was the source of much stress, but finally they just kept me an extra day and sent us home.

5) The babies smell good.

6) Will my hormones eventually regulate themselves? Will I ever feel normal again? Will my body recover from the c-section? When? Will every day get better?

7) Miles is already stepping forward as the "freaky" child - he has so many little quirks and he's not even 6 days old. Guy is all about "slow and steady wins the race"...

8) Tomorrow (yes, Sunday) is our first outing to the pediatrician - what will we wear?

9) Will I ever sleep again?

Le Sigh


Medieval Woman HQ has now become Bedrest HQ.

Last week we were all in a kerfuffle - on Wednesday, exactly 15 minutes after TD left for the airport to go back to the Motherland to get his work visa (he is SO legal now, btw!), I was told I had to check into the hospital for 24 hours for observation and testing for pre-eclampsia. I tried to tell the doctor (a different one from our own Dr. Canadienne) that I have a history of hypertension, but she didn't believe me. I tried to tell her that I was worried about Guy and Miles and that was obviously making my BP spike and she didn't believe me again.

So, there I was in the hospital alone, crying on the phone to TD who was about to board his transatlantic flight. Fortunately, Medieval Mom was coming into town later that evening for a visit and our awesome friends J and A picked her up and brought her to hang out with me "in stir". After over 24 hours of being stuck in a little room, the results were...

I don't have pre-eclampsia. I just have high blood pressure. So, though I'm still on bedrest (but not the Gestapo kind), it's not as bad as we feared.

But here's what sparked all the stress:

At our last ultrasound, Guy had turned into the Incredible Hulk baby, and - no doubt fortified by gamma radiation - seemed to have gained* almost a pound and a half in two weeks. Miles, however, didn't seem to have gained much at all - only a couple of ounces.

This discrepancy is, of course, very distressing and I was worried to death about my little Miles (hence the BP spike, Dr. Conservative!). So, we went to the special hospital ultrasound people and they did more measurements and concluded that they were only 1 pound rather than 1 1/2 pounds apart. It's still a big and sudden margin, though, and they blamed it on the fact that I no doubt have horrible pre-eclampsia and Dr. Conservative started saying I'd be "lucky" to make it to 36 weeks and talking about long term hospitalization until that time.

Now, I'm all for better safe than sorry, but this was ridiculous! And so my treacherous BP creeped higher the more they took it, supposedly confirming their dire diagnosis. Bastards.

But, after all the hub-bub, it all seemed blown out of proportion (for once, not by me) and so I'm ensconced on the couch and bed for the duration - but it's better than the hospital! We have another measuring ultrasound next Thursday and we'll see if Miles has caught up a bit. If not, then we'll have an early c-section to get him on the outside to chub up. I'm not unenthusiastic about this possibility - I'd be happy to get off the couch.

The funny thing about this whole scenario? The boys are completely fine - they move constantly, they practice their breathing, their heartbeats are great, they're totally strong awesome little dudes. They sit in the eye of the hurricane of panic and ultrasounds and tests in which I become embroiled with their little fingers making the "whatever" sign...

Excuse me, I must now pay-per-view "Hot Tub Time Machine"...

* I say "seem to have gained" b/c ultimately we don't know for sure - the margin of error for late term ultrasounds is actually 1.5 pounds! They could weigh exactly the same (although you can see that Guy is chunkier than Miles).

Random Fluffage


Dang! It's been a long time since I posted!! I am gleeful that classes start in a little over a week, but I won't be teaching. We live life tapas-style lately: little meals, little naps, little steps, little clothes to wash and put away, little, little, little....

So, here are some of the tidbits (in no particular order):

1) We have scheduled a c-section for our 38th week (Sept. 28th, to be exact) - this is the terminus ad quem for Guy and Miles to emerge. My blood pressure is sneaking up ever so slightly (not due to pre-eclampsia but b/c of a family tendency toward borderline hypertension). So, Dr. Canadienne feels that 38 weeks is plenty of time for them to chub up even more and then high-tail it out of there. This isn't to say that I can't decide to try natural childbirth if I want to or if we go into labor early, but it's nice to know that there's a happy planned option that will not involve my BP spiking dangerously during a potentially long labor.

2) TD is soon buying this for himself.

3) Den of Guy and Miles is complete and I'll post pictures of it soon. I've evicted TD from our bed for the remainder b/c I need every inch of the bed for me and my 27 pillows - TD sleeps on our guest mattress at the foot of the bed. I only feel slightly guilty about this.

4) I went to a breastfeeding class recently where the woman had many plush boobs to illustrate various nipple issues (erect, inverted, etc.). Seriously - they were like little disembodied stuffed boob dolls. Interesting....TD expressed thanks that he hadn't attended this particular class. But then he insisted on reading all of the notes I'd taken so he would know what a "good latch" was...

5) I still haven't heard anything on the revised MS I sent out in the second week of June. That's okay, right? Doesn't bode ill, does it?

I'm going to Chili's...



NB: The musings of this post in no way contradict the musings of the last (and thank you all for the lovely comments and encouragement!!)

But, reading around on the medieval blogosphere about NCS reminiscences has made me a little sad that I missed it (to say nothing of the fact that TD and I had a bodacious trip to Tuscany and Rome planned around the conference). I had been accepted to a great panel that was right up my work alley - and I would have loved to present and hear the other papers, see friends, just be part of an intellectual enterprise again. Of course, the panel organizer and the hotel peeps were wonderful about my pulling out (I pulled out months ago, so it wasn't a last minute burden), but I didn't realize how reading about other people's conference experiences would make me feel a little isolated.

Now, I know there will be many more NCSs and K'zoos to attend, so it's not like I missed Woodstock or anything, but it's made me reflect on the general feeling of being trapped and how tantalizingly anesthetizing that actually is. My day is filled basically with sleeping and eating - and I'm doing exactly what I should be. It's now also governed with periodic blood glucose levels and trips to the doctor. All is well and I've performed my gestation duties very well so far.

But reading NCS posts has made me wake up from my pregnancy haze a take a look around me for the first time in weeks:

- wait, wasn't I going to do research this summer? Wasn't I going to get a head start on the new project after I re-submitted my book manuscript (deargodpleaseletmegetacontract)?

- hold on, don't I have friends skulking around this town someplace? I haven't seen them in a long time...

- don't I have an office with a nice view? Aren't there books waiting for me at the ILL desk in the library?

Whoa - I'd forgotten about all that! So, I've decided to take some metaphorical baby steps before I get bogged down in actual baby steps and reconnect with myself as scholar and social being. These guys will soon enough take over my life once they're on the outside and I'm taking advantage of their amniotic incarceration for a little longer.

We'll see how this goes, but I'm sick of trapping myself in the house because of exhaustion, lack of motivation, etc. It's amazing how the days can slink by.

So, on tap for the coming days:

1) taco night with friends tonight.
2) go up to office tomorrow for 2 hours and read articles (*gasp!*)
3) read and comment on my friend M's article for submission to PMLA.
4) look at 2011 K'zoo CFP and see what's what because I'M GOING NEXT YEAR (and Rebel Lettriste, our sets of twain can play together)!

On the bod


Okay, since the dismal defeat of our orange men 2 weeks ago, I haven't blogged (although I've been reading yours!) - it was a poorly played game; TD's disappointment was bitter.But, we rally! And I've had so many naps since then that it seems like a lifetime ago!(*interrupted to report that Furball #2 is sleeping underneath my desk and is having some kind of dream - her little paws and nose are twitching a mile a minute...very cute*)Given the condition my condition is currently in (and the fact that it is indeed a growing condition), I've been thinking a lot about my body lately. I've been diagnosed with borderline gestational diabetes and it was explained to me that this is because I'm carrying twins. Indeed, I haven't changed my diet a bit and I've been taking my glucose readings 4 times daily for several days and my readings have never been above 110 (they should remain below 120 2 hours after each meal). This all lends a bit of skepticism to the diagnosis, but I'll play ball. So, I dutifully went to my diabetes education class with other ladies in "the family way" (as the leader called us) and I listened to a woman rattle on for 2 hours about how if we didn't get our diabetes in check we were going to give birth to "little sumo wrestlers" (said in an overly cutesy, saccharin voice - my blood sugar just spiked). I wanted to jump across the table and strangle this horrid woman within the first 5 minutes. Seriously, I wished her very ill and it didn't get any better the longer I was there. And these women in the class did nothing but moan about how they could no longer eat their Hostess Fruit Pies and drink full on leaded Coke the rest of their pregnancies. Now, I'm in no way poo-pooing these items - if I didn't get heartburn just looking at a Ding-Dong at the moment, I'd be inhaling them right and left. But, I just wanted to get the info and get out. I have absolutely no intention of counting my carbs and sugars and doing exchanges, etc. for the next 9 weeks. Especially because after eating tater tots and hot dogs, burgers and fries, my blood sugar still isn't above 108. Ha. Vindication.But it was at the moment that the woman told us that we need to get our "lovely svelte figures" back as soon as possible after delivery that I took notice (and vowed to kill her as soon as no one was looking). She pointed to all of our globular physiques and motioned to the belly area and said, "this is ALL TYPE TWOOOOOOOOOO!"* But her certainty that we were all in the crosshairs of this disease because we were a) pregnant and b) therefore, fat, made me fume. Now, I'm all for staying on top of things and being as healthy as you can and being aware if you're at a higher risk for something. I also live in the South and this woman suggested that all of us ladies hie ourselves to our churches and Wal-Marts and get the pounds off asap by walking around in an air-conditioned space (it has actually been prohibitively hot here). But this just made me want to declare myself a big lesbian Satanist communist and reach for a Twinkie. I hate that shit. Especially when the purveyor of that shit is asking me to poke my finger with a sharp object 4 times a day.But all of this got me thinking later about how I've been feeling about my growing spherical shape during this whole odyssey. Horrid evil woman seemed to be suggesting that we were fat (or had started out fat) and would continue to[...]