The good life

Teaching classes is awesome. It is like I talk to adults on a regular basis about things I'm really interested in. I have learned a ton and integrated a lot of information I had floating around in my head already. In general, my students are motivated and interested and smart.

The lifestyle is fantastic as well. I go in and teach first thing in the morning, so it is out of the way. I then have office hours where I continue to talk to adults about things I'm interested in. I've even been consulted for projects, as my advisor is now officially retired and rarely in the office. It's like I'm useful. Then, at 11, I go home and spend some time with the kids and eat lunch. This is slightly less than ideal since I spend most of my time with them wrangling them with food/naptimes. It's OK at the moment while the outside temperature is about 0 Fahrenheit, but will be sad when the weather gets good and I can't use my time with them to, say, go to the zoo. The nanny comes over at 2, so I head out for coffee and prep lectures and am home to do dinner/bedtime (further child feeding/wrangling) around 6 or 7. I review for the next day's lecture before bed. Repeat.

Unfortunately, this is not sustainable. I would technically be a full time university employee if I taught 5 classes a year (2 per semester, 1 per summer, maybe). But then I'd be a full time employee which comes with departmental meetings and paperwork and politics. I would have overlords to keep happy. I would also have underlings; students to mentor. Which sounds fun, but like something that will take time. And, realistically, no one is going to hire me to teach 5 grad level classes per year. A substantial amount of my time would go to research, getting funding for research, hiring others to do research, managing others to do research. Research involves both overlords and underlings, so it involves stress and time. Right now, I'm supposed to be working on my manuscripts, but I don't have to deal with funding. Just coauthors, which really is a pain.

So, I am enjoying my year of floating outside the career path; I'm getting all the benefits and none of the costs. And I get to see my babies; Huxley just got his first tooth; he's a baby, not a newborn. Sigh.

Next week, there is the first meeting about scheduling for the third year of medical school. Maybe that will put me back in a bad mood.

Ophthalmoscope

A couple of months ago, I went in for a review session on how to use an ophthalmoscope. I think this was the first clinical thing I've done in three years besides take my kids' temperature. And clip their fingernails - that's just like a medical procedure.

I was pretty terrible at it. This isn't a surprise since it is one of those things that takes practice. Which I haven't done. It involves rotating your head and arm at the same time around a very tiny hole (the pupil). I should stop being lazy and start practicing on Trouble.

I had forgotten things about medicine, though. I had forgotten about cramming the night before in case the very nice retired doc who was running the sessions decided to pimp us on other aspects of the eye exam besides the scope (cranial nerves!).

I had forgotten that there is no chit-chat in medicine. There can be chit-chat, but only once things are rolling along. In academia, the chit-chat comes first and then the business.

I had forgotten how it feels to walk into an exam room as a provider instead of a patient. At the moment, it feels terrifying; there is all this stuff in there and I'm not really sure how to use it. I've mostly ignored that fact for the last few years. I know I'll learn, but I'm very aware of my ignorance at the moment.

I had forgotten how many layers there are to any physical exam maneuver. For the opthalmoscope/non-dilated eye exam, the levels may go something like this:
1. Get the retina in focus - see a blood vessel. This, I can do.
2. Follow the blood vessel to the optic nerve. This, I can do about half the time.
2b. Notice some stuff that might be related to disease. Not so much right now, but I'm sure I'll get down before I need to.
3. Follow some blood vessels out away from the optic nerve. This, not so much.
3b. Same as 3a. Eventually.

Levels 1-3 can all be done from the same position. Apparently, there is also
4. While approaching the patient, change the focus on the scope and visualize different areas in the eye (besides the retina). Right. Like, maybe in 5 years.

I had also forgotten how intimate medicine is. There is touching. And breathing the same air. It certainly isn't sitting in a coffee shop with a computer.

43.9%

What, you didn't think I had a spreadsheet telling me how ready I am for the semester?

I am 2/3rds done with the most intensive lectures for my database class. And I really am through the most difficult part of the measurement class - I'm getting into the territory of things I've actually worked with instead of things I've merely read about.* After just reading for a bunch of lectures without much modification to my advisor's slides, I'm finally to the point where I am updating the reading list and substantially modifying the slides. It is like I actually know something.

Of course, I am not as far along as I wanted to be.

But if I only prep 2 lectures per week, I will have everything prepped before spring break. And if I can't get it done that fast, that's OK, too.

Tomorrow is day 1!

* There is a derisive adage in medicine, "see one, do one, teach one." It turns out, in academia, it is often "see one, teach one." At least we're not dealing with people's lives. Oh, wait . . .

2008 Resolutions

2008 is the year I become a professional!

1. If going to work during normal hours (before 6 on weekdays), I have to wear my new professional cloths. And not my new fancy fashion-forward glasses.
2. Be less white trash about the yard - actually keep it clean this year. No more remnants from the house projects. I'm not pregnant this year, so I can actually do something. Like repaint the front steps and battle the strangleweed.
3. Hire someone to deep clean the house occasionally. Thank you, craigslist.
4. Charitable giving - one small thing per month.

Fizzle

Our nanny graciously took a week of vacation to visit her family before the semester started instead of doing it after the semester started. In her absence, we've scratched out a schedule in which we are both getting some work done, but essentially have zero time to do anything by ourselves. We were ready to rip each other's heads off by Tuesday.

Interested people keep asking me if two kids is that much harder than one. In some ways, yes: getting two kids ready to get out the door somehow manages to take four times longer than one, it is ridiculous to plan more than one errand/trip per day, there is much more stuff to keep up to appropriate (toys, cloths) which takes a lot of brain power, and just dealing with all the drains of having a little baby (recovery from pregnancy/birth, sleep deprivation, lactation) while simultaneously dealing with a toddler consumes a lot of energy.

In other ways, though, the answer is no. Mostly because I've lucked out and had some really sweet, calm, easy children. In day-to-day terms, now that Huxley is day-night oriented, one simply has to deal with two children instead of one for the same amount of time each day. I do 4 to 7 hours of child care per day. No matter what, it just takes those 4 to 7 hours. And it some ways it is easier because they are both there. Turing helps me take care of Huxley. Huxley likes to watch Turing. When one or the other is napping, we get special one-on-one time. Sometimes it is frustrating to "just" watch one child because they actually don't require constant attention. They merely require near-constant attention and those 30 second or 2 minute gaps in which I am neither spending time with my kid or doing something else (not necessarily productive, but something) are really frustrating to me.

Those gaps don't really happen with two kids. This is both good, because the day goes faster, but bad because it is relentless. And, of course, the disasters happen when both kids NEED you at the same time. Like when Huxley needed to nurse during Turing's bath last night and Turing lifted the knob on the faucet which started the shower: disaster.

t minus two weeks

In two weeks, I will be teaching.

I keep thinking I need to practice waking up earlier. I had been getting up around 8:30. I'll be teaching at 8 in the morning (waking up at 7? maybe?). I thought I'd push my wake-up time earlier over time. Of course, I've been waking up later and later instead; Turing has been sick and sleeping in while it has been ridiculously foggy around here and I keep wanting to stay in bed. Today, I slept in until 9.

Maybe tomorrow I'll force myself out of bed earlier.

Yeah, right.

Every week, I think about sleeping at a childless friend's house over the weekend and leaving Trouble with the children at night. Huxley has been getting up every 3 hours and a night or two of continuous sleep sounds amazing. But then I think that a night or two of continuous sleep would be great but then having to go back to constant waking would just be that much harder. Dunno. I've now thought about it and not done it about four weeks in a row.

But my brain in definitely working a lot better - the hormones have washed out or the nutritional drain on my body is evening out or something. Despite feeling tired, I feel more functional. Vroom.

I'm making a lot of progress on class prep. I think, at a minimum, I'll have a third of my lectures prepared before classes start. If I stay focused, I'll have more like half prepared. And I'll be done with the lectures about which I know the least and have had to do the most background reading. Or so I keep telling myself.

Maybe the adrenaline will get me out of bed earlier, soon.

Forward!

Our first solstice

We've migrated from celebrating christmas, to celebrating solistice on christmas, to celebrating solstice on solstice. And this year I was very excited about it because I was excited for Turing. We also got our first parental-holiday experience: Trouble and I spent the night before wrapping present together. And drinking beer.



And then we did christmas presents on christmas, which was good for Turing because he was overwhelmed at about present number 4 both times.

I realized I've got less than a month until classes start. Eep. Fortunately, I am getting faster at planning for lectures as my brain returns to a non-pregnant state (if I remember correctly, I'll feel much smarter in just two more months) and I'm getting some practice at preparing them.

This week, for preparation, I bought cloths at all the sales. After two painful days, I think I have enough for the colder months - I know I'll have to go get summery things later. It was painful because I hadn't looked at myself in a full length mirror in . . . forever. I can't remember the last time. Much less those three way mirrors. And I had no idea what sorts of cloths to buy for my new body so almost nothing fit for the first day of trying. And I just hate buying cloths.

I was trying to stick to cloths that I could also use for medicine. There are rules! It is sad that people need to list the rules because students don't think about the role they're playing. They are: no cleavage, no sleeveless shirts, all skirts must hit the knee. I also add being able to run in them. And that they must fit. And no white, since I've got little kids and drip things all over my shirts. And no button-downs, because that doesn't work with lactating breasts. With all those rules, I couldn't really pay attention to the no dry-cleaning rule, unfortunately.

A lot of the shirts this year have cross-over tops (a wrap around asthetic). Which are very cute and I like, but are all cleavage on me. And a lot of the dresses have these very loud high contrast patterns on them. Which I love! Except maybe not so much of it - more as either a top or skirt, but not both. I think I would induce headaches in my students if I wore them.

Next week, I get back to writing lectures. But at least I can dress the part, not