Thank you for taking care of yourself!

When I first accepted my current position in Chemistry, people asked me if I felt like I minority.  They were referring to the fact that I was to be the second woman in a predominantly male department.  I replied that indeed I did feel a little out of place, but not because I am a woman.  Rather, the faculty in our department come from a variety of ethnic backgrounds and, odd as it may sound, I was a little self-conscious about being white. 

That's not to say that there aren't times I don't notice differences that might be associated to sex.  A few months ago I found myself complaining more and more about the demands being made on my time that were taking me away from research.  Somehow I had ended up on 4 committees, was the "go-to" gal for a number of student related issues, and overall found it difficult to ever be in my office with my door even slightly cracked without being disturbed.  I grew increasingly cranky and critical of my colleagues.  Why didn't they seem to be taking on more?  Why was I getting stuck with all the "service" work?  Why wouldn't people just let me do my research?!

I had been warned over and over again by my mentors that one of the hardest things to learn as a junior faculty member is saying no.  Whatever our reasons, we tend to take on too much too soon.  I wondered if I had failed to say "no" enough.  Or if I hadn't set clear enough boundaries.  Or if I was just being a pushover.  Somehow, something needed to change.  But what?  How?

Now, months later, I think I've found the answer.  It didn't come from any amount of introspection, or from chats with mentors, friends, or colleagues.  It actually came during an OB appointment two weeks ago.  Just as she finished listening to the fetal heart rate, my doctor paused as she looked down at me and said, "You've been having a great pregnancy.  Thank you for taking care of yourself."  It was a very strange thing to be thanked for, and from a physician no less.  Especially since I didn't really think that I had been making a concious effort to take care of myself.  I had been in survival mode for so long, just trying to make it through the fall semester without getting ill.  In fact, I had been feeling a bit cheated out of the whole "pregancy experience" because I had spent so little time thinking about it, or the little creature growing inside.

It wasn't until later, on the walk back to the house, that my doctor's words hit me fully.  "Thank you for taking care of yourself."  Here I had been taking care of myself physically -- making time to exercise and eat right -- but hadn't been taking time for the other, very important things needed to take care of oneself spiritually or emotionally.  Over the past few weeks, I've taken a step back to reevaluate my commitments as compared to my colleagues.  And in doing so I've noticed that my male counterparts seem much more able to make the time needed to care for their mental well-being.  They close the office door more often, tell students it is not a good time, or turn things in later than they'd like.  It's not just a male thing; I see many women with the same ability. But in general, these are more senior female faculty.  I wonder how long it took them to develop this skill?  Or how long it will be until I do?!

In the mean time, I will try to take better care of myself.  And I will remind all of the other women in my life (or other take-on-too-muchers!), whether they be in academia or not, to take care of themselves.  Close the door, go to the gym, read a book, knit your hearts out -- whatever is needed.  Don't make it a New Year's resolution.  Make it a life's resolution.

Art Makes Me Happy

Just a few random bits that have been making me smile lately...

Eric Johnson is a local artist that S and I have fallen for. Someday we'll get a print for ourselves. Here's just one that I keep revisiting: Abstract 99

And another who I didn't realize did soooo many cool things. I first saw her work on a line of greeting cards at Target of all places. After a little digging, I've found that she also makes fabric and apparel. Here's the greeting card we're thinking about using as a birth announcement.

But she has heaps of awesome greeting card images which she sells as prints too. Oh the irresistible temptation of decorating our home to avoid the winter blues! I would love to have a few of her seasonal images as a series in our family room. Perhaps January, February, May, August, and October? I mean, just for variety!

Ready to Rumble?

If there are stages of pregnancy like there are stages of recovery, I think I've gone through just about all of them (in no particular order). Disbelief, indifference, joy, self-doubt, excitement, panic, nesting, acceptance, and now... let's get this show on the road!

After the fall semester came to a close and we retreated home to MT for the holidays, I felt panic set in. With a double teaching load and close to 300 students, I had had no time for anything -- research, hobbies, sleep, let alone time to think about the Psite and what I needed to do to feel "prepared" for parenthood. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe there is anything one can do to truly prepare for one of life's most significant events. But anyone who knows me, knows that I am a planner. My ducks like to be in a row. And suddenly I found myself 7 months pregnant with no ducks in sight, let alone lined up neatly.

Where am I now with ~5 weeks until D-Day (delivery day)? I'd like to say "ready", more or less. I tried to inventory all the ducks, and quickly realized that there are far too many to keep track of. So, I'm settling on just a few -- we have diapers, the car seat arrived, I knit a hat for Psite (it will be FEBRUARY in FARGO for God's sake!), I'm packing my hospital bag, and my Mom booked her tickets. The rest, well, it will slowly get taken care of (or not). It's kind of like a game of hide-and-go-seek. I can dimly hear Psite counting in the background, but don't know exactly how fast or slow. But I think I'll be OK when s/he suddenly cries out, "Ready or not, here I come!"