Lonely or Free?

Oh.my.goodness.  I've found it.  The book…I mean, THE book I have been looking for at least for the past 6 years, possibly my whole life.  It is not often that I am truly amazed by someone's writing (unless it's academic…nerd alert).  But it.has.happened!  One and Only by Lauren Sandler (2013, Simon & Schutzer) both says everything I want to say and tells me everything I have been longing to hear (and she's done her homework…it's not just lip-service).  I just started the book and it's already on my top books of all time list.  I was wondering how I was going to document all of the quotes I don't want to forget…so I decided to do it here.

I've been open about my struggles being an only child and the tough decision to have only one child (which I still struggle with on a regular basis)…I've even touched on the subject here.  It IS a continuous struggle.  As my parents grow older (and have life-altering "health events" like my mom's multiple joint replacements and my dad's heart attack and bypass surgery), seeing my friends lose their parents, witnessing my friends with siblings share in parenthood and become friends, hearing my daughter talk about being singled out (no pun intended) for being an only child, wondering how K's life  would be different if she had a sibling, hearing the evil/rude/disrespectful/ignorant comments from others about my decisions (both crushing me and insulting me…families are not one size fits all, people!)…. It's a constant internal battle for me.

I've known, pretty much since I got pregnant, that I would only have one child, despite my CERTAINTY I wanted a big family before I actually created a child.  I was not a good pregnant person.  I felt like crap.  I had a c-section that went all kinds of crazy (resulting in a postpartum hemorrhage that went undiagnosed, but that's for another time).  Buzz never wanted another child.  I did.  He didn't.  I "gave in" to "only" having one because I figured one child was enough strain on our marriage and he wanted that one.  If we had one only because I forced the issue, and our marriage went really south, that would not be good for K or her hypothetical sibling.  Plus, I wanted a career.  I HAVE an amazing career--but I was still able to spend the years before school exclusively with her, and now I have a schedule that compliments her school schedule so I still have the mommy time she needs--I need.

People call me selfish, but working is something that I need to be a mentally healthy person.  I feel like being "together" as a mom (well, as together as I get) is of the utmost importance to being a good mom--and I don't think that is selfish.  People tell me K is only as good as she is because I "only" have one--implying my life would be a total disaster and K would be a terrible person otherwise?  People have accused me of "not liking" mothering.  ON THE CONTRARY!!!  Being a mom is my most favorite, most important, BEST part of my life.  But, there are still other parts of me--and I think those parts help me be a total person, a better mom.

When I really looked deep at why I wanted another child, it was more of a longing for more of each stage with K (rather than wanting another human in my womb or in my home).  I found this blog post recently, which sums up my thoughts on that.  Looking back, though I sometimes "wished" time away (mostly because I was single-parenting with a husband in Iraq), I NEVER neglected to stop and soak up the moment.  I held her.  I watched her.  I held her some more (and was criticized I was making her too dependent--people really do need to mind their own business).  I cherished every day…I felt (and continue to feel) like the most blessed mommy on the face of the planet.  And seeing her grow up warms my heart and breaks it (a little) at the same time.  But having another child will not change that…  My family is complete.

So, back to the book…  Lauren Sandler (who I fully intend to email myself once I am finished with her work of excellence) is both an only child and a mother to an only child.  She is a journalist who cites personal experience and research on only children (and the mothers of them).  For the first time, I feel like someone gets it…gets me!  She does not preach that having an only child is THE thing to do, but recognizes that, as I have said before, families are not one size fits all.  She works to debunk the old, OLD (and stupid) myths of the only child.  I highly recommend this book not just for only children, but for anyone…it offers a unique perspective to a group of people who have been put down for far too long with zero foundation for the negative arguments.  Thank you, Laruen Sandler!  :D

Here are the paragraphs that pulled me in (and I am sure I will be back to share more), from the Introduction pages 7-13:

"In surveys that ask young women how many children they'd like to have, ultimately and ideally, no one says they'd choose to stop at one child, he [sociologist Phillip Morgan at the Carolina Population Center] tells me.  To me, that's like asking a tween girl what her perfect wedding looks like… Our ideals change in concert with our emerging realities--even more so if, as we develop, we opt to interrogate what we thought we wanted, and why we thought we wanted it.

Here are some things I want:  I want to do meaningful work.  I want to travel.  I want to eat in restaurants and drink in bars.  I want to go to movies and concerts.  I want to read novels.  I want to marinate in solitude.  I want to have friendships that regularly sustain and exhilarate me.  I want a romantic relationship that involves daily communication beyond interrogatives and imperatives--I want to be known.  And I want to snuggle with my daughter for as long as she'll let me, being as present in her life as I can while giving her all the space she needs to discover life on her own terms.  I want full participation:  in the world, in my family, in my friendships, and in my own actualization.

In other words, to have a happy kid, I figure I need to be a happy mother, and to be a happy mother, I need to be a happy person.  Like my mother, I feel that I need to make choices within the limits of reality--which means considering work, finances, pleasure--and at the moment I can't imagine how I could possibly do that with another kid…

Still, I agonize every time I see my daughter doting on a friend's baby, just as my own heart has a tendency to devour itself when I take a new tiny person in my arms… When my daughter was born, after all my anxiety about how I'd never changed a diaper…--well, I held my girl, just moments old, and I simply knew what to do.  My confidence and capability stunned me... And yet when I try to imagine doing it again, I feel even greater doubt than I did the first time…

…We need to be more assertive in questioning why exactly we believe our children need siblings.  Because if I am going to choose to have another one, while billions of other people do the same, I should be able to know the reason.

And if it's not because I want to--I mean, really want to--have another child, there's a body of supposed knowledge I need to start questioning.  For myself.  For my daughter.  And for the world I brought her into.  Instead of making a choice to enlarge our families based on stereotypes or cultural pressure, we can instead make that most profound choice our most purely independent one.  It might even feel like something people rarely associate with parenting:  it might feel like freedom."

Yes.  Just, yes...

When I grow up...

"Every day you make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of that journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy of the climb."
--Winston Churchill

Age 5:  When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut, a movie star, or one of those people who run the checkout register at the grocery store.

Age 8:  When I grow up, I want to be a lifeguard, or maybe an Olympic gymnast.

Age 10:  When I grow up, I want to be a teacher.

Age 12:  When I grow up, I want to be a veterinarian.

[7th grade--A friend is in a horrible car accident, leaving him with TBI.  I spend many hours at a pediatric hospital for head trauma]

Age 13:  When I grow up, I want to be a physical therapist.

Age 14:  When I grow up, I think I really do want to be a veterinarian.

[I take a biology class--not my thing.]

Age 15:  I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  Why are we talking about this?

[Buzz, who I have been dating for nearly 2 years, joins the Marine Corps]

Age 17:  When I grow up, I want to be a Marine wife.

[I enter college and have to make decisions on what I want to be when I grow up]

Age 18:  Uh, when I grow up, I want to, uh, be in banking?  [Buzz and I break up as I am in college in VA and he is stationed in CA]  When I grow up, I want to be anything but a Marine wife.

Age 19:  I don't like accounting.  When I grow up, I want to be a physical therapist--that will be so rewarding.  [Volunteered for a summer at a pediatric physical therapy clinic]  I can't be a physical therapist--I'm way to emotionally involved and I would be a wreck all the time.  Hmmm, I'll be an economics major--it's still business but I don't have to take any more accounting.

Age 21:  [I graduate college and get a job as a commercial credit analyst at the bank where I have worked as teller and as a clerical assistant]  When I grow up, I want to be a VP of this bank.

[I'm miserable at my job.  I hate sitting in a cubicle all day.  I decide I need to go back to school and go back to the teller line, where I can be around people again, while I make some decisions...and start taking sign language classes.]

Age 21 1/2:  When I grow up I want to be a teacher.  I'm going to grad school to get a master's in education.

[Re-enter Buzz, our engagement, and marriage]

Age 22:  Oh good grief, can I ever have a career?

[I enter graduate program for deaf education, begin working at a elementary school for deaf kids.]

Age 23:  When I grow up, I want to educate deaf kids.

[Job at the elementary school is too emotionally draining and I can't finish that program before Buzz gets restationed.  I enter the master's in applied sociology program at the same university]

Age 24:  When I grow up, I want to do something with sociology.  I will go get my PhD.

[I decide it's time to start a family because Buzz will soon be deploying.  Pregnancy finds me immediately.  **YAY!!!**  No immediate plans for PhD school--only mommyhood]

Age 25:  When I grow up, I want to be this little girl's mommy.

[After being a stay at home mom for a year, I start teaching community college part-time]

Age 26:  I mainly want to be a mommy, but when I grow up, I want to teach.  Wait, I miss working with people with hearing impairments.  Maybe I want to be a speech-language pathologist--then I could do both.

[I apply and get accepted to a distance education program for SLP.  Buzz gets ready to deploy again.  I can't handle the program with a 2 year old.  I realize I need to get my priorities straight and decide not to begin said program.]

Age 27:  When I grow up, I want to be a mommy--and maybe still teach community college--but probably just part-time.

[We find out that Buzz will be restationed near a Research I university with a sociology program.  I apply--late--and still get in.]

Age 28:  When I grow up, I want to be a sociologist--though I don't know if I want to concentrate on research or teaching--and, first and foremost, I want to be a mommy.

[PhD school is very hard and demanding--it's even rougher with a family and all the challenges of military life.]

Age 30:  When I grow up, I want to be a mommy--why did I go back to school?  Well, maybe I'm just upset...when it comes down to it, I do still want to be a sociologist, too...I just don't know if I want to go research (most of the time, I don't but the thought crosses my mind), teaching, industry (probably not), or non-profit (that sounds rewarding).  I just want to get out of grad school, then I will work on making these decisions, based on where the Marine Corps takes us.  Wait, why is my daughter telling me what she wants to be when she grows up?  I don't want her to grow up so fast!  (sigh)  Well, back to my own school work...

Moral of this story:  Sometimes you go 3 decades with many changes and challenges in your life, you may be working on a doctorate and STILL not know exactly what you want to be when you grow up.  And that's okay.  Grad school is not a cop-out for me--as some have suggested--so that I don't have to make this decision.  I know that this field will lead me to the right thing--and give me options if my tastes change.  It also gives me the flexibility to spend summers with my daughter and I have had more at home-time with her WHILE doing something in pursuit of a career.  Complicated?  Absolutely!  This doesn't change and seems to get worse with age, education level, and Marine wife life.  Do I take conventional routes? No.  Decisive? No.  I'm not conventional or decisive except for the fact that mom is my #1 job...and everything else will work itself out.  Part of the fun of deciding what you will be when you "grow up" is the journey that takes you there.

Misunderstood

**Disclaimer:  I love my husband and all of the people who support me in my life.  I am a genuinely happy person, but sometimes, I just gotta let out the griping...and what better time then when I can

(And, my apologies...it's a long one--I'm making up for lost time.)

I've been MIA from the blogging world lately.  I literally have not had 10 minutes to sit down and write if it was not for school, teaching, exams, or a publication.  So, here I am.  I'm tired.  I'm tired of doing so much.  I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

I've mentioned before how I don't fit in--in military wife life OR in grad school life, because each is so different from the other and I'm juggling both sets of roles and responsibilities in two different arenas where neither side understands the other.  But it goes deeper than that.  I get so FRUSTRATED when people think I'm "just" a stay at home mom.  First of all, HELLO?!?  "JUST" does not belong in that phrase.  Mommyhood is the hardest (yet best and most rewarding) job on the planet and it gets under my skin when people take it upon themselves to say how that's not a big deal.  But I digress...

I AM a mom first and foremost.  This is the way I want it.  It is my favorite of my favorite roles.  But I am also many other things: 

-I am a military wife. That's not an easy job.  My husbands's job dictates not only his life but my daughter's and my lives.  He never has the option to put off his responsibilities--nope, it's always my commitments that have to give.  People MISUNDERSTAND a military wife's place in her family--and in the military structure itself.  It is hard to pursue anything for yourself in this life.  You never know what's around the corner, but you know YOU will be the one who must be flexible.  YOU will have to be the one to break plans and mold your life to his duties.  YOU will have to live in his shadow--no matter what I accomplish, he always "trumps" me in the eyes of others.  That's fine--he deserves it.  I have the utmost respect for our military and have seen first-hand how much they sacrifice and have witnessed their superhuman strengths and abilities.  BUT I wish that didn't have to negate MY accomplishments.  I work hard, too.  I keep this family together in his absence.  I, for all practical purposes single-handedly raise our amazing daughter.  And, this is fine with me because I love it.  I only wish I had more time away from other responsibilities to do more fun things with my little lady--but I feel bad for her missing out on a "normal" family life (whatever that is) and I feel bad for him missing out on fatherhood on a more regular basis.  I pay the bills--no, it's not MY income that pays the majority of the bills, but I am the one who make sure things get paid.  I clean the house, I mow the grass (sometimes, like today), I cook every meal that we eat at home.  I handle the house, the cars, the EVERYTHING that keeps us above water.  Does that not deserve some credit?

-I'm a teacher--a college instructor.  This is not an easy job, either.  It's very important but it involves a lot of work, time, and effort--and irritation at times.  It took a lot of hard work, education, and sacrifice to make it this far.  MY merits got me here.  But people don't seem to understand.  "Oh, you JUST teach online" they say.  Yes--but this is also A LOT of work.  Maybe more work than being IN the classroom--which I have also done and will be doing again come August.  Not to mention, I'm trying to work WHILE taking care of all of my at home duties--they don't shut off during "work" hours.  Or, "Oh, it's JUST community college" others might add.  What's up with "JUST" coming before all of the things that challenge and reward me as an individual?  Community college is no walk in the park.  Imagine a group of 30 people, all from very diverse backgrounds with a variety of goals, family situations, ages, etc. and try to come up with a course that can reach all of them.  Not the easiest thing on earth.

-I am a graduate student.  "Oh, you're in school?" people say with a strange tone as if to look down upon me.  Yes.  I am a 30 year old and I am STILL in school.  I am STILL in school because my husband (who I fully and wholeheartedly support) has a career that has taken me places and put me in situations that made it impossible to get this far without breaks in my education.  And when I say "this far" I mean I am working on my PhD.  A very, very small fraction of the population has such credentials.  I don't think I am better than anyone else and question this decision on a daily basis.  It's not for everyone, that's for sure!  But do I not deserve SOME recognition for these accomplishments?  Maybe people just don't understand.  I write--I publish--I work very, very hard to be the best that I can be and make a name for myself--a career for myself.

I'm also a daughter, granddaughter, niece, friend, and pet owner among other things.  I take everything in stride, though I do get down and complain sometimes (okay, a lot).  But don't we all deserve to just let it out sometimes?  To remind people that we are ALL unique in our own ways...and it is all relative. We only know what we have had the opportunity to experience.  I just feel so misunderstood so often...by so many people in my life.  My colleagues do not get the military experience, my military acquaintances don't get the grad school experience, my civilian acquaintances who haven't been to grad school don't get either. I get moved around to places that make getting the job I want, that I have worked so hard for in pursuing this PhD, nearly impossible.  But I go.  I follow.  I remain in the shadow hoping for the chance to be seen in a brighter light for MY accomplishments in all areas of my life.  Thankfully, I have an amazing group of friends and family who, while they may not understand me fully, are my rocks.  I'm so blessed to be surrounded by amazing people--especially on days like today.

I said a long time ago that I was going to stop being irritated and start being proud.  So, in my bloggity journal, this is that time when I got it out and turn over that new leaf.  So, go me!  I am so super proud that in a single day I spend time with the most amazing little girl on the planet (in my eyes), make our house (that we are blessed to have) clean and beautiful--including the yard, make sure our bills are paid, run a half mile farther than I have been running, work on a publication, prepare for an exam that will put me one step closer to PhD status, work on my dissertation project, and feed my family.  Our family lives a life with many battles and challenges, but that just makes us stronger.  We might not be "normal" by any standard, but the opporunities and experiences we are privy to on this journey are priceless.  As are the amazing people we meet along the way.  When I put it that way, I guess it doesn't matter who does or does not understand me from the inside out, as long as I can stay strong, keep pushing forward doing the right thing, and have my rocks to stablize me on this crazy journey.

Okay.  Griping done.  Stay tuned...when time permits, I'm still working on putting on my "happy blog face."

And, I'll leave you again with one of my favorite quotes that I break out when I feel like I'm pushing against a brick wall.  It reminds me that I must keep plugging along, even when the going gets tough.  Obstacles before me, beware!  :)

 “…the evident genius of the human spirit lies in the hard fact of life that we, like our dogs…[are] limited in all the important ways… We cannot do all that our powerful minds trick us into thinking we can. In a word, this is the mystery of being human. Our finest nature is not our ability to think and do. It is that we do and think as we do in spite of the obstacles…On average, the better ones among us continue to think and do what they can with no assurance that solutions will be found.”

--Charles Lemert

 

The F-word

FAILURE

That word terrifies me.  It's a big, scary word that brings about big, scary emotions.  The fear of it has kept me from taking so many chances in my life.  I didn't continue playing the flute in any big capacity in my teen years.  Despite the fact that I was often selected for "special" programs and was told I "had what it takes," I was scared of any try-out process where I might not make it.  I didn't try out for softball in college.  I was scared I wouldn't make the cut--despite the fact that the assistant coach was my coach from high school and the head coach was my mom's boss's husband...and, objectively, I probably had the skills to make it.  But that fear of the f-word held me back from even trying.  That fear of the f-word almost tricked me into not applying to graduate school.  While I was waiting on the decision I convinced myself that I didn't really want to go, so I wouldn't be so upset when I didn't get in.  (In hindsight, that would not have been the WORST thing to happen.  Grad school sucks.  Hahaha!  But I digress, as usual...)

And the f-word brings on fears beyond just the f-word itself...like fear of the d-word.

DISAPPOINTMENT

When I was a kid, my parents didn't spank me or anything like that.  But I dreamed of that type of punishment.  I don't mean I wished for beatings, I just mean something shorter than the long lectures about what I did wrong.  NOTHING is more devastating than having someone tell me they are disappointed in me.  It is only rivaled by the disappointment I feel toward myself sometimes. 

Coming full-circle, sometimes my internal disappointment comes from not taking those leaps or trying out because of my fear of the f-word.  Seriously, am I some sort of nut-job?  :)  But where could I have gone if I kept playing the flute on a higher level?  How would my college experience have been different if I had tried out for softball?

And now, the fear of the f-word is getting into my head again.  Recently, I have had a few things showing me that I have chosen the right path for me--that maybe all of this grad-school-nonsense isn't nonsense at all.  Maybe there is light at the end of this stressful tunnel.  Great, right?  Sure...until the fear of the f-word comes creeping up on me again.

What if I'm not good enough?  What if I don't get a job?  (Seriously--big fear--there are a lot of student loans piling up that need to be paid!  I get so irritated that people must go into debt to better themselves, but that's another soapbox for another time...)  What if people think I'm stupid?  What if I say something wrong?  What if my dissertation flops?  What if I never get a publication in a top journal--or, even worse, what if I don't get another pub at all?  What if I can't get any grant money?

While all of my other "colleagues" are going around calling our professors by their first names, I am still walking on eggshells and wouldn't consider calling any professor with a PhD anything other than "Dr. [Last Name]."  What if I actually do make it to my own hooding but can never make the jump from student to PhD?  What if no one ever sees me as a figure with authority or someone with "real" expertise?  What if they all still see me as the quiet girl with the southern accent who is too afraid to speak up because of her fear of what everyone else thinks?  What if I DO get a good job...but then don't make tenure?

Yep, there are a lot of questions running through this brain of mine in addition to all of the ones I need to answer formally through this grad-school adventure!  I am sure many of these things are ONLY in my head.  I mean, worrying is my specialty--a forte I would like to overcome. 

So I am challenging myself to put the worry away as it is totally useless and nonproductive (though it's not likely to actually disappear) and focus on what I need to do to succeed.  I must focus on success--on the possibilities of what CAN be if I keep working hard.  The biggest tragedy will be if I let this fear of the f-word infiltrate my aspirations to the point that I don't shoot for my goals.  I've said it before and I'll say it again--the following quite is framed in my bedroom--it came from one of those daily calendar-things.

"Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles.  It empties today of its strength."

[Deep breath]....Eyes on the prize....

Do YOU remember young love...that lasts?

I'm linking up again for the coolest dance party in blog-land.  Head on over, check it out, and add YOUR song!


My song this week is "Do You Remember?" by Jack Johnson. As I've mentioned before, Buzz and I often communicate (through deployments) with music.  This was another one he introduced me to during Iraq deployment #1.  It's so cute...and it is SO US!  I have included the lyrics below...and the bold comments explain just why this song hits home this week, and every week, for *almost* all of the past 16 years.  (Holy cow--that's a long time!)

Do you remember when we first met? I sure do.
It was some time in early September
Buzz and I met at the bus stop (how romantic) at the beginning of high school--my 9th grade his, his 10th grade year.
You were lazy about it, you made me wait around
I was so crazy about you I didn't mind
He totally wanted me from the beginning but I wasn't interested.  He got our mutual friends to put in good words for him and he had very "creative" tactics to try and win me over.  It took a while--almost a year and a half--before I bought into the idea.

I was late for class, I locked my bike to yours
It wasn't hard to find ‒ you painted flowers on it
I guess that I was afraid that if you rolled away
You might not roll back my direction real soon.
As I said, I wasn't a big fan of having a relationship with this *boy* at first but he wouldn't let up (and now I'm glad he didn't).  :)

I was crazy about you then and now
Yep, he was crazy about me then...and now (blush).
The craziest thing of all,
Over ten years have gone by
16 years! (With a little break during my college and his early Marine Corps years)
And you're still mine,
Still together.  :)
We're locked in time
We're still young at heart!
Let's rewind

Do you remember When we first moved in together?
The piano took up the living room
Well, when we got married, we didn't have a piano but we had the tiniest base housing--our living room didn't have much furniture but the place was so small that it was full.
You'd play me boogie woogie, I played you love songs
You'd say we're playing house, now you still say we are.
When we were newlyweds, on many occasions, I would say I felt like we were playing house--it all felt so strange, in a good way.  And, as I say, we're still young in our own minds, and now I still say it feels like we are playing house.  (But I LOVE it!)

We built our get away up in a tree we found.
We felt so far away but we were still in town.
Now I remember watching that old tree burn down
I took a picture that I don't like to look at.
I have to get a little metaphorical with this one, but here goes...We used to "get away" to random places.  When we were first married, we lived in Newport, RI.  I was homesick--very homesick.  We would go for drives to "calm me down" and get my mind off of things.  Buzz used to take me on what he called "the mansion tour" in RI.  (If you've never been to Newport, it has a couple of streets with INSANE mansions, including the one where The Great Gatsby was filmed.)  So, we felt very far away on these little get-aways, but we were just a few miles from our tiny base house.  As far as the burning down, the metaphor stretches a little further...I remember when Buzz started deploying after we were married.  I felt like all of those memories of random drives to calm me down just faded away--and it really did hurt me to look at pictures that reminded me of when he was there.  (I know, I'm a weirdo--lots of people hold onto things to make their deployed husband feel closer, but to me, that was too hard to do.)

Well, all these times they come and go
And alone don't seem so long
Over ten years have gone by
We can't rewind,
We're locked in time
But you're still mine.
With all the ups and downs, we're still together.  Lots of people (even us at times) thought it couldn't be done...but we're going strong!

Do you remember?

When I can't find the words...

My life often gets turned upside down.  Being away from home is a blessing and a curse at different points along my journey.  Luckily, I have been blessed with an amazing family--not the least of which are my uncle and aunt, Rex and Robin.  Some of my earliest memories are of Rex.  He has always been there for me--a man who always treated me with respect, even when I was a kid; a man who I knew I could turn to at any point in my journey and know he would lend me an ear--and take me seriously.  Robin entered my life early on as well and has always been a comfort and, in recent years, a true friend.  I was a flower girl in their wedding--I still remember it.  It was one of the first examples of being accepted into a "bigger" world.

Why am I introducing family members?  Because this week, my life has been turned upside down.  My grandmother--my hero--the woman I named my child after--is nearly 89 years old.  She is an amazing woman and has been through so very, very much in her long life.  She took care of me.  She took care of the rest of my family.  But, sometimes, SOMETIMES, it becomes the time that we (who have been so blessed to have experienced her amazing care-taking skills and her long, healthy life that is still moving forward) must adjust our roles in awkward ways.  It is the time that we must all bond together, as a big, amazing family, and take on caretaking roles ourselves.  Every member of Grandma's lineage has been touched by all of her amazing traits in countless ways.  We all love her more than words can imagine.  Yet, none of us can even begin to understand her almost-89-year journey.

So, on that note, I introduce my amazing aunt Robin.  She has found the words I have been looking for.  Check out her blog and this post (which I have copied and pasted, with her permission). 

"THESE FEET, AND THEIR 3 HOUR TOUR"

Life changes. Sometimes we see it coming. Sometimes it smacks us in the face.
Sometimes, it smacks us because we turn away from what we see coming because we don't want to accept it.
We've been smacked. It stings.

These feet...

decided to go out into the 86 degree heat and pull weeds
became disoriented
climbed up a steep hill to the alley
lost their shoes
wandered through the alley for about 3 hours
took several rest breaks
avoided the "scary dog"
finally asked a strange man for help
met a really nice police woman who made sure she got home
turned off the cabbage left cooking on the stove
laughed about how she could see the dandelions, but not her house
cannot explain how this happened

These feet.....
have walked our family into new territory. Territory many have trod before us, but uncertain and a bit scary for us.

These feet....
are forcing us to look at life straight on- no more turning our heads
are requiring us to make decisions, decisions that will bring us closer together as a family because in the end, everyone involved.....

love these feet
and the precious 89 year-old mom attached to them.

Lonely only? (Pour Your Heart Out link-up)

I am linking up to pour my heart out with the blog titled "Things I Can't Say," so I am going to take this opportunity to let out things I can't seem to say in real-life conversations...

I am an only child.  I hate it.  I always hated it.  I started begging for a brother or a sister as soon as I could talk.  I remember being devastated when my cousins or friends got siblings and I was left alone.  I always wanted someone to play with and I felt very lonely a lot of the time.  I wished for another young person to play with on family vacations (though when I was older I was lucky enough to be able to take a friend).  I wanted to share a room--I wanted to share my toys...I just wanted SOMEONE who would always be there to share things with.  I wanted a sibling who would also get in trouble and not just me.  I was never a "bad" kid--I did great in school and never got into REAL trouble, I just talked back some and didn't clean my room very often.  I wanted someone who understood what life inside my house was like.  I never got it.  As my parents got older, I even begged them to adopt.  Didn't happen either.  By high school, I just had to accept it was just me...and I tried not to think about it anymore.  I hate it even more now that I am grown, my parents are getting older and have some health problems--my dad recently had bypass surgery after a heart attack and my mom is preparing for a double knee replacement (thankfully, they are both doing amazingly well).  It sure would be nice to have someone who feels what I am feeling through all of this...

I always said I would not have only one child--I could not do that to another human being.  But, to make a very long story very short, my husband's career and my desire to have a career of my own have changed my mind (along with a few other female-details, including complications after the last birth and endometriosis). To me, our family feels complete.  My husband never really wanted more than one kid, so when we had our amazing little girl, he KNEW we were complete from the start.  He says with one kid, we know we can give her everything she needs, most of what she wants (while teaching her to be grateful and giving, too, of course) and send her to college/help her out when she is on her own...but with two kids he would have to decide which one he liked the most and which one would have to join the Marine Corps.  Hahaha!  I don't exactly agree with that, but I see where he's coming from.  :)

The bottom line is, I feel like our family is complete.  I do not have a strong desire for it to grow in numbers--I'm not sure of the reasons behind that because I still feel very lonely in my only child life sometimes.  My daughter does not seem to feel the way I did at her age.  She always tells me she does not want brothers or sisters--that she wants to be the only baby that's been in my belly.  I'm not saying parents should base their child-creating decisions on what their current children want--I'm just saying she helps give me peace of mind that she is not feeling like I did as an only child.  She is much more independent than I was at her age; she's more independent than I was even when I was much older than she is right now.  She is very social and loves her friends, but she can entertain herself and enjoys alone time.  I think these are good traits! 

So, WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO GIVE ME THEIR TWO CENTS ABOUT THIS TOPIC?!?!?!?  It seems that almost everyone has an opinion on only children--particularly my family's decision to have only one child--and is willing to share it.  To me, that's just plain rude.  I have heard it all--she will be antisocial (she's not); she will be selfish (she's not); she will never learn to be independent (she's the most independent 5-year-old I know); she'll never learn how to get along with others (not true); she will always feel lonely (I don't see that happening); she will never learn to appreciate things (totally not true); she will be a spoiled brat (seriously, who says that to a mother?); you will give her everything (we don't); she NEEDS siblings (why?) etc., etc., etc., and yada, yada, yada.

I do feel confident in my decision, yet I still get so defensive when people start this mumbo jumbo.  I feel like they are attacking me and my daughter (and my husband but that doesn't bother me as much because he 1. doesn't care what other people think and 2. has no problem standing up for himself/telling other people what HE thinks).  I am worried that I am making a mistake...but don't mom's worry about this in every aspect of their parenting?  It's a scary job--because it's an important job being a mother!

So, here and now, I am saying something I can't seem to actually say but that I NEED to say to all of those people who criticize--SHUT UP!  You are all up in the Kool-Aid but you do not know the flavor!  (For the record, I LOVE when I can use that line.  Ha!)  Mind your own business.  I'm not out there criticizing your parenting decisions or your family composition.  My daughter has all the basics she needs in her life--she is very well taken care of here.  Yes, she has many luxuries, but she also has the biggest, giving heart I can imagine.  She is kind and sweet.  She is a good friend.  She is happy.  She is smart.  And she is MINE.  MY mothering is helping her achieve her potential.  And the fact that she is an only child has no bearing on that.  Stop calling me selfish.  How is any of what I am doing selfish?  Is it because you think that I MUST be selfish because I am an only child?  Is it because I am pursuing a career that I believe is good for me AND my family and you think that doesn't make for a good mom?  Stop with the sterotypes and let our actions speak for themselves.  This decision is my husband's and mine...not yours.  If you want to have lots of children, then you do that for yourself.  I have no problems with large families--I have no problems with medium-sized families--I have no problem with people who choose not to have children.  The point is, it is a personal, family decision.  Please, please keep your thoughts to yourself.  Better yet, why don't you hold off on creating those thoughts and opinions unless you can get a better grasp of what is actually going on here and have some basis in reality on which to form said thoughts and opinions.  Oh, and while you're at it, check out this article from Time Magazine last year before you start making antiquated assertions about only children.

Whew!  It feels good to get that out!

Oh, and as for that article in Time, Buzz saw that and bought it for me last year.  I know it's not an academic journal--I feel like I need to make that disclaimer, you know, being in PhD school and all.  :)

My Soundtrack: My Home (has no walls)

This song has been stuck in my head (again)...so I'm writing about it. 

Don Henley:  Taking You Home

I didn't have a "real" wedding.  I mean, I'm really/legally married, but we did not have an extravagant wedding for a variety of reasons--not the least of which is the fact that the good ol' USMC doesn't always make it easy to plan such events.  So, we got married in the church where I grew up, with my minister, with our two best friends as witnesses.  Then, we had a relatively informal "reception" with family and close friends.  We dressed up--Buzz was in his blues and I wore a white dress.  (It was actually a very plain white bride's maid dress--the big, fancy ones didn't look right on me.)  Anyway, if we DID have that big, fancy wedding--this would have been the song I would have chosen for our first dance.

We had only one pre-marital counseling session with my minister.  I remember him telling me that I would have to redefine home.  Home was no longer my hometown (where I had been my ENTIRE life--same house other than dorm rooms and apartments at college).  It was no longer a place.  There were no walls and there was no geographic boundary.  It was where my husband was--i.e. wherever the Marine Corps took us.  That was such a tough concept for me to grasp at the time.  It was hard to accept when it really happened.  I've come a long way.

"Home" is now with my family--here, there, or anywhere else.  I quickly learned what my minister was talking about--as we moved twice in the first 6 months we were married...and quite a few times since.  And this "home" has become even more significant since K was born. 

To me, the most important lyric in this song is "In this love, I found strength I never knew I had."  Beginning with the marriage and the moves in my new life, I found a part of me I didn't know was there.  Through having a daughter and going through deployments and more moves with her, I found that strength I never knew I had.  When I get down and start go fret about the hardships that military life brings (or am just irritated with my husband in general  :o) ), I always have to stop and remember that without falling in love with my husband and embarking on this journey, I may never have found the strength that was in there all along--just waiting to find its way out.  It's still going to be rough. I'm already worried about moving next year and concerned about all that surrounds a new-PhD trying to find a job.  It's not likely I will be able to get a job where my husband and I can live in the same house.  And we don't want to keep moving K all over the place--and I need to get a job where I can HOPEFULLY start working toward tenure without having to move yet again.  So I know the possibility exists that K and I will have to have a house that is separate from Buzz.  I don't like that idea.  But, I know that my home will still be the same.  Buzz will likely be deploying on a regular basis once we leave this duty station--so it's not like he would physically be in the house that much anyway.  And our home doesn't change--it's not bound by walls or filled with furniture.  It's filled with "this love"...and I have faith that this love who brought Buzz and me together and Kaitlyn into this world will continue to fill us all with the strength we need to handle whatever our careers throw at us.  In the meantime, I will still try not to waste time away, but will still look optimistically forward to Buzz's retirement from the Marine Corps--when we can be sure that our home fits in one house again.  :)

The Marine Corps helped raise me, too!

I should be working on papers, reading, analyzing data, or studying now. But instead, I'm getting a jumpstart on the link-up with Goodnight Moon . This song (This Side by Nickel Creek) has been my "theme song" for life in the Marine Corps from the very beginning of my military wife life. I've included a *detailed* timeline for how this song fits into my soundtrack below. Hope you enjoy!

>1995 (9th grade)--My Dad buys our first DVD player. It plays CDs, too. (This is important and will resurface again.)

>1996 (10th grade)--I start dating the "boy" who will one day be my husband.

>1997 (Summer before my senior year)--My "boyfriend" joins the Marine Corps.

(late 1998-mid 2002...my "boyfriend" and I break up as he is stationed in California, I am in college in Virginia, and that doesn't really fly when you're 18).

>Jump to 2001ish--I discover Nickel Creek, thanks to my dad (who just happens to be the best musician on the planet. He taught me to love music and appreciate it. Music has always been a HUGE part of my life and I often see the world through the sounds of music, but I digress...).

>2002--My old boyfriend and I reunite when he comes home after his deployment to Afghanistan, which started out as a "simple" MEU float. Then, September 11 "happened" and they diverted (for lack of a better phrase). We date, get engaged, and get married rather quickly.
---December 22--Wedding.
---December 26--A young girl from Southwestern VA (that would be me) who only "went away" to college in the next city over moves away from everything she has ever known to Rhode Island. This was my first time away from home for more than a week or two, and my first taste of military life. I was welcomed with open arms, but I was very, very scared, sad, and homesick. Oh, and that "ancient" DVD player from 1995...my dad gave it to us.

>Last days of 2002--My husband and I hook up the old DVD player. A Nickel Creek CD is in it--"This Side" was on that CD. We begin listening to it ALL the time.

---My husband always told me, especially through my anxiety and nervousness about entering my new life, that nothing good could ever happen unless you take a little risk and step out of your comfort zone. This new life as a military wife was WAY out of my comfort zone. During those first few months of my new life, I met many new people, experienced many new things, and started to change...the Marine Corps and the life it provided for me was changing me in ways I didn't know possible. This song was literally in the background of many of those adventures. (My husband told me to think of my new life in the military as an adventure. I didn't have to try hard to see it as such--it IS an adventure.) The words are so meaningful to me. I molded into a girl who you can take or leave--I'm still the same, even though I've become a bigger person. Military life, I believe, brought out the person I am meant to be but who was hiding deep down under my "old" life.

---The main way this song speaks to me is that it starts out by saying "There's no place to hide and I'm nothing but scared." This is exactly the way I felt in this new life of mine. But, as the song progresses, those words change to "There's no place to hide and I don't think I'm scared." This is my new outlook. I have jumped out of that small-town-girl-mold into someone who's not scared to meet this adventure head on!

---This song also speaks to a new way of thinking. The line "Climb up the slide and then slide down the stairs" also speaks to my new perspective on life. Sometimes, the unconventional route brings new joys, even if there are some challenges and risks along the way.

>Jump to 2011--I can't believe I used to think like that girl who was scared to leave her hometown! This song remains part of my soundtrack and has been one of the most important songs in my life. What I consider to be my motto (and what I have to sometimes remind myself when I start to curl back up in that shell of taking the easy road) is such a powerful line from this fun song..."Only the curious have something to find."

Semper Fi to all of my Semper FABULOUS military friends, I mean FAMILY. :)

(That's my "boyfriend" and me before the Marine Corps Ball, 2010)

Paying it forward?

"A life lived for others is the only life worth living." ~Albert Einstein


We all know the meaning of paying it forward, right? Earlier this year (I think--it could have been the end of last year--I have no concept of real time anymore, but anyway), I signed this petition-thing on Facebook to do something nice for someone the next day which was supposedly "Pay it Forward Day." Now, I am the type of person whose conscience speaks WAY louder than anything else, so knowing that I signed this thing meant that I HAD to do something nice. What a great thing, right? Maybe for anyone else on the planet, but not necessarily for me...


I woke the morning of the supposed "Pay it Forward Day" (note, I have seen the same thing going around Facebook again--I know there's not national holiday for this event, but still) and I told myself, I must pay it forward today. So the day began...I dropped of K at school and had just a little extra time before my meeting with my professor. And the pressure was on. So that I would not have to grapple with living up to my deal, I was convinced I must pay it forward before this meeting. I was a little hungry so I decided to grab a bagel at Panera. And, as I parked, I promised myself I would pay it forward in the restaurant. It would be so simple. I would just pay for the meal of the person behind me.


SOOOO simple...or not. First of all, I realized I had no cash (as usual) but I told myself I could just pay with my check card--still simple, just not quite as simple as hading the cashier an extra $10 and telling her what to do with it. Minor setback but we were still good...or not.


There were no other customers in the restaurant. Crap. I was going to have to devise some sort of lunch plan. I could get cash and do some sort of drive-thru pay-it-forward-action. It would be okay...or not.


So I pay for my bagel and walk down to get my cup of water. Then, the door opened. Two men walked in. One was what I would describe as an outdoorsy-type--you know, with the big beard, plaid shirt, hiking boots, etc. And the man with him appeared to maybe have some special needs. Apparently they were regulars. All of the Panera employees knew them and they spoke with everyone. When the guy (not the outdoorsy guy) walked past, he said hi to me, too...and I said hi back. My palms were sweating now--Should I go with the original plan or just duck and run? Again, this conscience of mine speaks loudly and sometimes it distorts its messages. I felt I had to go with the original plan. I mean, what if I got tied up and did not get another chance to pay it forward? I must do it now, I told myself. So, great, back to the original plan...or not.


Since I was on the other side of the restaurant having this mental conversation with myself, I had to act quickly. The outdoorsy man had ordered while the other man sat down. I walked quickly to the register and, in my attempts to pay it forward, made a complete fool out of myself.


I panicked--I flaked.


I asked the lady if he (clearly talking about the outdoorsy man) had paid yet, suddenly realizing I am talking about the gentleman as if he was not there. So then I turned and asked him. He said he was getting ready to. And I said "Well, I would like to pay for your breakfast this morning." He told me I didn't have to do it and I told him I wanted to. In my panicking and flaking out, I became concerned that maybe he thought I felt sorry for him or something--or thought he couldn't afford breakfast or some other craziness. So I told him it was Pay it Forward Day and I had to do something nice for someone. He and the cashier laughed about how I "had" to and how I was getting it over with early...so I paid, felt my face turn 10 shades of red, ducked my head, and ran out of there. Oh, and the grand total: less than $5.


And THAT was my "good deed." Or whatever it turned out to be. I blew it. I wrecked it. I felt like a fool and called my husband, who laughed at me because I somehow always turn something simple and supposedly nice into something humiliating--at least for me.


So, what's the point here? Welllll, why must we need a day to pay things forward? And why do we have to pay it forward to complete strangers? And why does it feel so strange when you combine the two? First of all, I don't think we should need a day to pay it forward. I do try to practice simple, random acts of kindness on a daily basis to people I don't know and will never see again. Yet, I am thrown a curve ball when I sign some silly petition. I don't like the pressure. I don't really like any pressure, so I throw myself into a PhD program--ahhh the irony...


Anyway, I have recently been having some rough days for a variety of reasons. I am working to change my thinking and my attitude. And I have come to the conclusion that, in order to do this, I need to work on rising above. And one way of doing this is to make every day pay it forward day--but my focus should not be on strangers, but on those close to me. All too often, I think we all forget that those closest to us need a little random kindness, too. Now, what deviates here, at least in my case, is that "paying" it "forward" implies that the niceness will be passed along to others and this will give you some sense of satisfaction--but that's not likely to happen in my case. I am sure those I am "paying" will not even recognize it. But I must rise above. I must pay it forward as a gift to others and, in turn, myself. I cannot do this as a credit or an I-owe-you or a promise to pass it on to anyone else. I must do it to be a better person--and to maintain some sense of sanity in the insanity which is my life. I must work to find intrinsic good in being a nice person ALWAYS, even if that is not reciprocated to me or beyond. I must be the example. Now, if I can just practice this.



"Be the change you want to see in the world." ~Gandhi

Nothing remains quite the same...

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered." ~Nelson Mandela

Soooooo, I'm here at this blog that has sat dormant for almost a year. I didn't fall off the face of the earth. But I have fallen deeper into PhD-school-world. It's a little dark in here. In all honesty, I have thought about blogging a hundred times in the past year but I didn't see the point since very few people ever came here anyway. :) But now I am realizing that this might be therapeutic for ME. Sometimes it's good to write something other than a research paper and take a moment to reflect on awesomeness, like being a mom, or funny stuff, like being a mom in the middle of all of my other life roles. So, here I am...probably just for me but that's okay!

Here's the past year in a nutshell--my baby turned 4, my family went on our first trip to Disney World--and our second, Sampson started acupuncture treatments (it works) and became a vegetarian (he's also seeing another specialist--in nutrition), I turned 30, I traveled all over the east coast for fun and work, I passed my first comprehensive exam while my husband was in Africa, oh yeah-my husband went to Africa and Norway, my family went to a Jimmy Buffett concert (I got mean mugs for having a 4-year-old there), my dad had a heart attack (while my husband was in Norway) and bypass surgery (luckily my husband got home for that--and my dad's heart is doing well), I started work on my dissertation (which included spending time in a prison), I am preparing for two more comp exams and am in my last semester of classes (as long as I PASS said exams), my baby got her ears pierced (today) and we are planning my baby's 5th birthday. Through all of this I have learned the most important steps day-to-day in Beth-world are as follows: Take a deep breath--focus on what's in your control and roll with it--try to accept what you can't control and work on letting it go--have faith in others--believe in new beginnings--hug your daughter--hug her again--Take another deep breath...repeat.

What's next? More school, dog, mommy, and military wife stories...for whoever may visit me here. I'll try to be witty, but no promises. ;)

Right now, the reason that I am on this blog in the first place, is because I signed into my account to leave a post on another blog which I found through a Facebook post of another friend. Here's the link...

Age Stratification--Highlights of a mildly wild almost-decade

I really feel old. Well, I don't FEEL old, but I feel like people look at me as ancient relative to them. Maybe it's being in the college atmosphere again at age 29; maybe it's the gray that has popped up in my hair since deployments became a part of my life; maybe it's that my friends and husband are all hitting the big 3-0 and it's around the corner for me.



Last night I saw a tv show and then today a professor was talking about living wild and crazy in your 20s. Does all the fun stop when you hit 30? I mean, if age IS just a number, then what's the deal with this? My definition of fun (as well as the practice of fun for me) has changed throughout the years. But I think maturity is GOOD thing, not a bad one. You can still grow on many levels and keep a sense of excitement, right? At first, after hearing all of these references to having fun in your 20s, I thought that maybe I had missed out on something. And then I started freaking out because I have less than a year to get the fun in. Then reality (or whatever my social construction of reality is) hit me in the face. I HAVE had a great time in my 20s--just like I did in my teens--and just like I hope I will in my 30s, 40s, 50s...and hopefully into really old age!



So I decided to take this opportunity to reflect on some of the highlights of MY 20s...starting at age 21 (21 and 5/6 to be more precise) because that is when Buzz reentered my life...and THAT is when I allowed myself the opportunity to redefine my life and take it in a positive direction. And that direction included LOTS of fun (with quite a bit of craziness--I did enter the USMC family at age 22).



Just to (probably over) qualify the list below, this by no means discounts the fun I had before my 20s--like the infamous "ice cream summer" I spent with my cousins, aunt, and grandma where we got ice cream every day as a kid, Sarah and my summers in high school with Shoney's weekends, beach week with my best friends... Nor is it to in any way discount or minimize that my 20s held absolutely the best, most important, magical time in my life that has made me who I am, was the best decision I have ever made, and filled my heart with a love that words cannot even begin to explain--becoming a mom. AND I want to reiterate that great moments didn't all have to include alcohol--like the "Cheers night" when Buzz and I went Walmarting and raced to put fans together for his mom, watched Cheers, and I realized he was the one in the simplicity of the moment; or the many Sonic, Exchange, Walmart, Food Lion, Commissary, Target, Coldstone, Old Navy trips I have taken with my girls; or the homecomings from deployment when, for a minute, time stood still in the arms of my husband and my daughter.



Qualifying over--here's the list:



Walking to the liquor store in multiple feet of snow with some friends AND Sampson because we drank all of the alcohol in our houses and needed more. (Best line of the night--our neighbor backed his car down our street where he had just passed us and said "I thought you were high schoolers!")



Screaming the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song at the top of our lungs in an old-ass car full of Marines and wives while bar-hopping.



The E-club in RI (too many random stories to recall here)



Buzz getting his microphone taken away during a botched attempt he and other Marines were making at a John Denver song on karaoke at a redneck bar in RI (yes, there are redneck bars in RI) by a butch lady.



At that same bar, having an older woman (lacking in some teeth, but I'm not judging) sexually assault one of our friends while telling him that she reminded her of her son.



Playing life-size chess (drunk) on a ship somewhere between FL and the Bahamas.



Drinking in the front yard with Brad and Erin (you would have to live in base housing at NAS Jax to fully appreciate the gravity of this one).



Doing the wave at the Deli to my dad's friends' band and spilling drinks--so many memories from that night.



Lots of commissioning parties.



Breaking bowling lanes in Jax (AKA the REAL Jacksonville).



Dressing up at the Mario Brothers for Halloween.



Gangsta New Years 09!



So they're not THAT exciting...no one got arrested or streaked or did anything TOO regretful (which is all what people apparently consider to make it a "good" story). And this is by no means an exhaustive list. But it was all SO much fun!!! And I have lots of good memories from my 20s and hope to make some more this last year of the awesome decade. But I hope that there is even more fun to be had as time goes on...I mean, it seems that with time, you can have all of that fun and even more with the knowledge from all of your previous successes and mistakes. The possibilities for what's to come seem amazing! Plus, isn't 30 the new 20?!? I'm just getting started!

Role Conflict

Week 1 down, 4 years to go...

My first week as a PhD student was good, I think. I am busy, busy, busy! K seems to be doing a good job adjusting to our new schedule (she's so awesome) and Buzz is really stepping up to help me out SO much around the house. But I am having some trouble letting go of some of those things. I have always been THE ONE who takes care of K, the dogs, and the house--and all that goes with those responsibilities. I have done this partially because Buzz has been gone so much and partially because I didn't work as much as he did when he was here and partially because it was just something I wanted to do. The hardest part is seeing others do for K what I have always done on my own (or seeing her be so independent that she just does it herself). Don't get me wrong, I am SO proud of her and I know this is part of growing up. She's just turning into such a big girl and, for the first time in her life, I am not the one who is with her 24/7. I'm also worried that Buzz is going to get burnt out quickly--I hope not. (He's pretty amazing, too.)

But back to my week at school...I am the only girl and the only criminology student in my cohort. Of course, I don't fit in AGAIN...story of my life. :) It's not so bad, though. Everyone seems nice and I really think I am going to like the department. I have a ton of reading and am feeling slightly overwhelmed about reading, writing, and living the rest of my life. I am really feeling some role conflict right now. (Role conflict is difficulties that occur when incompatible expectations arise from two or more social positions held by the same person--http://highered.mcgraw-hill.com/sites/0072435569/student_view0/glossary.html.) I feel like I am pulled in about a million different directions--well, maybe not a million, but at least a few. I'm a student, teacher, mom, and wife among other things. Luckily, I have a supportive "core" around me.

In all honesty, I am not totally sure what to expect through this journey. I hope I make it! I hope I can do this as gracefully as possible without losing my sanity and while still being good to my family members who are OH so good to me! Until next time...

What's in a name?

As sociologists, we know that there are some things that influence us even if they are not clear to the "naked eye" (so to speak). Names are often one of the first things others known about you--and a name can really shape people's perspectives even if that is all they know about someone.

On the suggestion of a friend (who has completed her PhD) I have decided to journal my journey though PhD school. I am not so ambitious to think I will actually write anything handwritten other than notes for class or that I will do this as much as I would like, but I am using my blog as a medium to chronicle this journey. So I have changed the title of the blog (for now--still subject to change in the future) to "Verstehen."

Verstehen--The German word for "understanding" or "insight"; used by Max Weber to stress the need for sociologists to take into account people's emotions, thoughts, beliefs, and attitudes (http://highered.mcgraw-hill.com/sites/0072435569/student_view0/glossary.html). (Max Weber is one of the "big 3" classical sociologists, by the way.)

Here's to hoping I can find verstehen into/of myself, others, and my discipline while keeping my sanity along this journey. Let's enjoy the ride...

The view from the other side of the desk

Holy crap--in 9 days I will be a full time student again! I am excited, nervous, anxious, you name it right now. I have no idea how I am going to pull this off, but I hope I can do it! All I can think about right now is what it's going to be like to be on the other side of the desk. When I first started teaching after getting my Master's I remember how insanely strange it was to be on the other side of that big desk/table at the front of the room. In many ways, it was the same feeling that I got when I quit being a teller and had to go into the bank as a customer--I mean, you never get that view! But the difference in the teller and teacher situations is that the view I am speaking of is literal for teller and more figurative for teacher.

For, wow, like 18 years of my life (I was 25 when I finished my master's and I had a couple years away from school after college) I was always the student, sitting in the small seats on the other side of the desk--I was the one taking the notes, doing the reading/homework, writing the papers, and taking advice from those "know-alls" behind that big desk. Then, all of the sudden, I was the one that those students looked to for all the answers--I gave the assignments and the grades. I really surprised myself at how much I had retained through all of those years of school and have been proud of myself so far for how far I have come as an instructor--but now those tables are turning yet again...

I remember the feeling of relief when my master's thesis was approved and I was done--I was a Master of Science in Applied Sociology! Those 2 years seemed like a lot of work--and now I am starting at the beginning of a 4-year (at a minimum) journey. I have been out of the student desk in the classroom for nearly 4 years. I hope I surprise myself with knowledge retention on a much larger scale this time. I am already stressing over comp. exams (the first of which I will take in a little less than a year) and the whole dissertation process. I guess I just need to take it one step at a time. This time, too, I am going to try to remember that I DO know a little something and those "know-alls" on the other side of the desk don't actually know EVERYTHING...and they learn from me, too. (My students have taught me lots--not all positive, but that's another blog for another day...probably when I am banging my head against the wall grading papers and answering emails of why you have to actually do work to get a passing grade.)

Anyway, I hope this journey is as amazing (or even more so) as those I have traveled so far. I hope that this time, thanks to a few more years (decades) of life experience I can also enjoy the journey itself. Of course, I am working toward that "Dr. Beth" goal, but I also have an amazing family, friends, and the pursuit of knowledge itself to enjoy and appreciate along the way. (And for those friends and family--get ready for a few breakdowns and "I don't think I can do it"s along the way.) :) I hope I'm not the oldest in my classes and I hope that I comprehend my professors' lectures...either way, I am not giving up. So I'm dusting off the old backpack (well, actually I had to buy a new one--first since college--since Daisy destroyed my old one) and have completed my back to school shopping (Wal-mart still has 15 cent 1-subject notebooks). I am heading to campus to take a seat in the student chair. PhD school, here I come!

Lucky and Lazy

I'm back to my computer addiction after a week-long vacation. That "vacation" was in Jacksonville, NC sandwiched between two weekend trips to Roanoke, VA--two places I never thought could be vacation spots. For the record, this was the first vacation (other than trips to Roanoke) that we have taken since K was born--and it was a great vacation! I am always saying I am in need of friends. This week showed me that I still have them out there--just dispersed places other than Knoxville!

Anyway, part of my agreement with myself was that I wouldn't do anything too productive this past week. I had to grade, but I even slacked on that a little, thanks to Blackboard flaking out some of the time. Now I am back to my power reading before school (for me) starts, I need to finish a paper to submit for publication, and I need to figure out a budget--which is difficult to do with the financial burden of school and trying to find good (no, great) childcare--which I will NOT skimp on!

In my "off" time, I have been doing a lot of thinking about why I want to do this--I mean, seriously, why would anyone (who has already been in school for 2 years PAST college) want to go back to school for an additional 4 years (at least) filled with stress and an insane amount of reading, writing, etc. on top of it? (And I am the person who finished my BA early because I wanted to get out of school so bad.) All of this on top of having to spend time away from the one person who means more to you than anything you could ever imagine? I think I have come up with an answer--I'm lazy. I know, not the conventional answer you would expect to those questions, right? I don't mean lazy in the I really never do ANYTHING sense, I mean lazy in the paid work sense.

I am lazy--and I am going to work my ass off for the next 4 years while incurring an insane amount of student loans so I can eventually make some money being lazy. Few things in this world bring me pure joy--my daughter, my husband, my dogs (my family in general). But also, I love sociology. I love learning. I enjoy teaching (most of the time). Although it can get stressful, "doing sociology" has never felt like "real" work to me. I like it. Among many other benefits, it gives me an outlet for my to use my overthinking brain for something other than self destruction. :) And I like teaching because it gives me a chance to bring some of this positive learning into other people's lives...and it gives me lots of autonomy. I don't like being told what to do--teaching gives me flexibility in my "work" activities. Again, teaching doesn't really feel like work to me.

So I am going back to school in order to be an authority in my field, which will allow me to teach at higher levels. Assuming I make it to my goal of becoming a PhD, teaching will allow me a lot of things that will help in my pursuit of laziness. I can have summers off and winter breaks will be here to stay--which will allow me more mommy time. Don't get me wrong, I know there is a lot of "work" to be done during semesters and there will be researching to do even during my "breaks." But, again, it doesn't feel like work to me--and it's done on MY time. I will be a happier person which will help me be a better mom and wife--and individual.

I am truly a lucky, LUCKY lady to have this opportunity to pursue my dreams of laziness. I am so fortunate to have an amazing daughter who adapts relatively easily to new people and situations. I am so thankful for a husband whose career (paycheck) allows me the opportunity to do this without the necessity of getting over my head in paid work responsibilities. (Don't get me wrong, the budget issue is still an issue, but we have food on the table, a roof over our heads, cars to drive, and lots of extras in our lives. And, also don't get me wrong, I often think his work SUCKS and I hate that it takes him away from our family for extended periods of time--but it's what he wants to do and it makes him happy--not to mention he makes me proud.) And I am so blessed to have that husband who is supportive of me and my goals. He does tell me that he is doing this for selfish reasons--that I will one day be his "sugar momma" and he can play golf and drink beer all day. (I guess laziness goals run in our household.) I am fine with that. :)

So these next couple of weeks, I am going to enjoy my opportunity to truly be lazy. Then, I am going to work as hard as I can in all areas of my life (and probably hate that life and question my decision to go back to school on a regular basis) so that I can be "Dr. Beth" one day--which will allow me to open the world of education and sociology to others while keeping up my lazy habits. I am such a lucky girl! :)

In need of a yoga vitamin

Holy crap! I was just watching a yoga video and a "yoga expert" was talking about how comparing and analyzing are the basis of worry. AGHHHH!!! My life is about comparing and analyzing--and I am the self-proclaimed (though others agree) queen of worry. I guess I need to focus more on comparing and analyzing DATA instead of myself to other random things.

I found this bit of information during my yoga time today--it's my new goal to do at least some "quiet time" yoga every day. So here's my positive yoga vitamin for the day--I am moving forward in achieving at least one goal. Now to continue that path and work toward keeping my analysis where it belongs. :)

Watch out, Blogging...there's a new stress reliever in town!

I was in yoga the other day. I was in full lotus position. My chakras were all aligned. My mind is cleared of all clatter and I'm looking out of my third eye and everything that I'm supposed to be doing. It's amazing what comes up, when you sit in that silence. "Mama keeps whites bright like the sunlight, Mama's got the magic of Clorox 2." ~Ellen DeGeneres

My mind wanders and worries all the time--especially when I am trying to sleep! So I am trying yoga. Other than Wii Fit and a YMCA class, I am pretty much yoga illiterate. Thanks to a friend from my master's program who happens to be a yoga instructor (to whom I am very thankful), I have found this great site where you can "take" classes online (as well as some other yoga info both from my friend and the site). (The site is http://www.lulubandhas.com/portal/luluvu/democlass .) Anyway, I am learning A LOT about myself--I think that's part of the purpose of yoga. I am learning I am not flexible anymore, there is never more than a few minutes of quiet in my house, my mind has a hard time shutting off and I am pretty sure that my mind and my body are at war with each other. (And I'm pretty sure that's not a good thing.) :) I have also found out that I feel a lot better about most things (physically and mentally) on the days I have time to practice--even if it's just for a few minutes at the very least the tension in my upper body hides out for a while and I can breathe better. That tells me this is one of the very few things that I do for MYself and is a huge benefit for me (and probably the others around me.)

But I am left with lots of questions. If this is so good for me, then why can't I find time (or make time) to do this every day? Why am I so tense? How do people with kids and dogs fit this (or any other type of relaxation) in to their schedules...especially if they work and/or go to school? How do you stay relaxed and keep a positive attitude when the ones around you are mad, sad, or have bad attitudes? Sometimes, I am not sure where all of my uneasiness comes from--I have everything that I could ever need or want yet my bad attitude shines on. I am happy on every level, but I often don't think I am happy enough--especially when those around me aren't sunshiny people (for lack of a better term). I understand that part of yoga is about believing that things are okay the way they are. Uh, that's not going to happen for me. I mean, the queen of worry would just be setting herself up for failure and anger toward yoga if I put that on my list of things I want to accomplish with yoga! I'll stick to yoga goals like physical fitness, relaxation, and a better attitude. But I would like to be a little more independent with my emotions, per se (like not letting others rain on MY sunshiny days).

I do hope I can work on getting to know myself better--and when I say myself I mean as a PERSON and not all the labels that are attached to me (by myself or others). Especially as I start to take on more responsibilities with the beginning of school, I need to remember to take a little bit of time for myself--FIND and MAKE that time--so that I can perform better for myself and others. I am working on adopting the attitude that I don't always have to be running around DOing something...sometimes it's best to just hang out and take a break (even if that break is a type work--like yoga). I am not sure if I will ever take that attitude as my own--there's always something to clean, someone to take care of, a paper to write, a book to read, etc. But, hopefully, with practice the effort it takes for me to relax will become less and less and just sitting there can be much more peaceful! Right now, yoga is a lot of work for me but I think it's worth it.

"You cannot do yoga. Yoga is your natural state. What you can do are yoga exercises, which may reveal to you where you are resisting your natural state." ~Sharon Gannon

Salt and Brindle

I was just hanging out with Sampson and realized he is having one of his "old-looking" days. Sometimes I look at him and it is amazing to see how he has aged while other days he still looks young and spry. Today, I noticed that the dark hair on his mask has some white sprinkled through it--he's becoming salt and brindled. Additionally, his white belly is getting lots of black spots--like age spots. His age is showing on the outside and his inside has been struggling since the beginning.

Recently, we have added another serious health concern to our list of health issues for the Sam-dog. He has a substantial heart murmur. The doctor told us that since he is still active and his lungs sounded clear, maybe it is not THAT serious...yet. Basically, if he survives all of his other struggles, it is very likely that one day, without warning, his heart will just stop. I discussed his exercise routine (because I am working to keep my end of our deal going) and she said to always remember that he is still a dog. It's not beneficial for us to limit his activity--he's happy moving when he wants to move and sleeping when he wants to sleep. (And he has become the master relaxer!) We need to let him do what he wants to do, even if it may shorten his life by a run or two (or more). I am trying to tell myself if he falls over on a run, at least he went out strong doing what he wanted to do--and I think that would be better than the suffering that we saw with Angel at the end.

But thinking like this is hard--he's still my puppy (my first-born) and I love him. :) Though it may seem silly, I have even compared Sampson to some elderly loved-ones by saying I want them all to go strong until the end. (Again, I do not necessarily hold my pets in the same category as my human loved-ones, but I often see similarities...clearly humans come first, but I digress...) Independence, self-esteem, and strength are what give us all quality of life. Of course, I want many decades ahead for all of my loved ones (even I know that is not possible for some for natural reasons), but I hope those years are filled with health and happiness, not suffering or pain. This is yet another time I reflect on how similar humans and our pets really are, at least to those of us who are pet-lovers. And, again, this is another time that I wish I could take on some of my dogs traits--like their lack of fear or vanity issues. Sampson doesn't sit around noticing his hair or skin changing colors--he doesn't pluck the white hair and put makeup on to cover his age spots or wrinkles--he doesn't know he's old (or sick, I don't think). He gets up and starts his days the same way--he may be a little slower, a little plumper, and look a little more aged, but his goals are the same. Some food, a walk, and some love is all he needs. He takes it all in stride. He has earned those white hairs and spots and, to me, it makes him all the more handsome.

All of this makes me wonder exactly why the anti-aging business thrives the way it does. Why can't we be proud of moving forward with our lives? I hope as I grow in years and wisdom, I can take all things in stride as Sampson does...and as Angel did. I hope that I can remember that age (even the physical parts that change our outward appearances) is something that is, in many ways, earned. Those lines, white hairs, and extra pounds are nothing more than signs on the road map of all we accomplish through our lives--including the extra stress that us humans impose on ourselves--and we should be proud of that. I hope that Sampson has at least a few years left with us--healthy and happy years--and that his heart can hold on for lots more runs, walks, play times, meals and naps! I will try not to dwell on all of his illnesses (which is easier to do when we are not paying insane vet bills) and work on enjoying all of life's blessings...I'm earning my salt and brindle every step along the way. :)

The Better Ones Among Us

I found an answer to all of those "Why do you want to go back to school? Why do you study those things? Why do you want to learn that much anyway?" questions and a response to those (myself included) who say/know one person can't save the world or solve all of its problems. I found it in a social theory book (go figure) and it even references dogs! :)

“…the evident genius of the human spirit lies in the hard fact of life that we, like our dogs... [are] limited in all the important ways… We cannot do all that our powerful minds trick us into thinking we can. In a word, this is the mystery of being human. Our finest nature is not our ability to think and do. It is that we do and think as we do in spite of the obstacles…On average, the better ones among us continue to think and do what they can with no assurance that solutions will be found.” --Charles Lemert, from preface of Thinking the Unthinkable

Dr. Lemert goes on to say how dogs go about their daily business but it's not necessarily a calculated process. He also discusses how sometimes things just happen--like natural disasters, for example. But dogs just sort of go with the flow; they take things in stride. They don't sit around and wonder all the whys that humans do. This, I suppose, is one of those fundamental differences between my 4-legged best friends and my 2-legged ones. :) But this, too, is one of those traits I wish I could sometimes borrow from my dogs, instead of losing sleep and stirring about the world's problems (in addition to my own).

As I embark on this new journey to "PhD School" I hope this quote and these concepts are some things I can keep in mind. I am limited (because I am human) but that doesn't mean that I can't move forward and do what I can to work toward the betterment of myself and others even if there is not assurance that any type of solution will come out of my labors. I know that my other academic peers have these same struggles. I try to remember to "think globally, act locally" and all of those other cliches we use to give us some peace of mind that all of our efforts are worth it when, on the inside, we fear/know that any differences we are lucky enough to make will be on a much smaller level than we wish. Hopefully, I will reach my goal of becoming a PhD...though that is a long way from now. In the meantime, I will think and do what I can and hopefully become one of "the better ones among us" in my pursuit and even help others along the way.