March 13, 2005

new digs

This blog has moved. Please update your aggregators. Or, if there is anyway for me to update them for you (Derek? Collin?) let me know.

The new URL: http://academom.syr.edu

Please disregard the bugs as I work things out. :)

Posted by mryonker at 09:45 AM | Comments (0)

March 11, 2005

and that's...the rest of the story

What you do is this:

Like a flash, you SHOVE the baby with your knee/thigh, so that instead of falling off the bed onto the floor, he is vaulted several inches so that he lands on a rolling office chair adjacent to the bed.

In lifting your outside leg to push the baby, you've also effectively slid the laptop AWAY from the edge of the bed.

You realize afterwards that this was probably the dumbest action you could've taken, since you relied on a CHAIR ON WHEELS to remain steady and catch the baby.

You realize that you could not have conceived of nor coordinated that feat with any forethought.

You realize that you haven't backed up any of your work on this fragile machine.

You realize that if you try to explain it to anyone, they'll think you're lying.

You are NOT making this up.

Posted by mryonker at 03:57 PM | Comments (3)

March 10, 2005

a moral dilemma

You're sitting on your bed, laptop in your lap, writing.

The baby, who is also on the bed, crawls over and begins to climb onto your lap.

You attempt to stave him off for 15 more seconds, so you can finish typing your sentence.

Suddenly, the barometric pressure drops, the wind changes; the baby AND the laptop begin to slip off your lap off the side of the bed and toward the floor...

You cannot save both. Which do you reach for?

Updated to include
The bed is standard height, about 30 inches from the floor.

The floors are hard wood.

The baby is rolling in a kind of sideways fashion, but mostly head first.

I do NOT have Applecare on the laptop (I know I KNOW!).

Posted by mryonker at 07:49 AM | Comments (10)

March 07, 2005

in case you care

The ABOUT page has been updated.

No, I didn't make it to 100. But close. Damn close.

Posted by mryonker at 09:17 PM | Comments (2)

March 04, 2005

blogkeeping and house notes

You'll notice that my blogroll is gone. It's sooo outdated that I have to completely re-do it, with categories and everything, and I just don't have time right now, so it's down. If I could figure out how to import my stuff from bloglines, I would, but I am less and less thrilled with the way that typepad lets me do, uh, let's see, NOTHING when it comes to configuring this crazy thing. My dearest dearest friend from HS, MaryAnn, has had better luck with changing colors, etc. I can't even figure out how to get to my templates to edit the code in them.

I assume it's because I refuse to upgrade my account. I know, I know, I wouldn't have to assume if I would, you know, look around for some answers, but AGAIN: no time for that.

In other news: baby eats peeled apple. This is great. Joshua (aka Monster Toddler) loves apples. He frequently will steal the older kids' apples and chew them. (Ah, that's what that strange sticky mess is on the floor: spit out apple peel). So today, when the kids got their after school apple, I peeled one and gave it to the baby. He was (and still is) happy for nearly and hour, gnawing it. And no spit out peels to step on with your barefeet later!

Posted by mryonker at 05:14 PM | Comments (2)

February 28, 2005

the problem is...

This is the problem:

I am too good of a Brownie leader to quit. I mean, what troop goes ICE FISHING?

Plus, our troop did a cookie "booth" sale in a local drug store this weekend as well, and they had such a blast doing things like calculating totals and making change.

I'm thinking that we'll simply drop down to one intense, three-hour meeting a month next year. That way, we can still sell cookies, and do fun stuff, but I won't have to plan meetings where everyone expects us to do crafts . We're doing decoupage this week, and I DON'T know what I'm doing. (This is why my troop camps, does road races, snowshoes and ice fishes: because I'm NOT crafty.) We may end up Modge Podge-ing ourselves the the church library carpet.

Posted by mryonker at 03:32 PM | Comments (5)

February 23, 2005

by popular demand

A pic of the newest addition to my family, Grayson:

I am happy to announce he is healthy, strong, content, and absolutely adorable.

Posted by mryonker at 11:40 AM | Comments (4)

January 31, 2005

mommy blogs

Well, some people are a little, uh, pissed off over the article that ran in the NYT this weekend about mommy blogs, especially those who were interviewed for it.

Fussy
Dooce
Bad Mother

I just have a few things to say:

Most of the "mommy blogs" I read are not o n l y blogs about parenthood; in fact, many parents blog about a bunch of crap as well as parenting. In fact, I am in the midst now of working up some kind of half-assed argument that ANY blog that thinks it is a KIND of blog (parenting, cooking, research, diet, etc) is out of its gourd. Blogs resist this sort of mono-topic stuff.

I would also be interested to hear mom bloggers respond to why they blog about parenting (I don't suspect it's because they don't have anything else to write about). In fact, I'd wager that most of them are responding to audience currents.

The thing that is lighting people up most, though, is the stuff about mom bloggers being self-absorbed, attention- and validation-craving egotists.

Possibly? I'll grant that I'm self-absorbed. But I think all writers are, to an extent. And I would argue the same for attention-seeking: writers of all kinds seek some sort of attention through audience. But validation? I write about baby poop and vomit not because I need any kind of validation, I don't think. I write it because it's funny. Because it's real. Because it is what I'm surrounded by right now. Later, when I'm surrounded by teenagers who sneak out and steal cars, I'll blog on that. When my kids are gone, I'll blog about my dentures. Whatever.

But the last thing, here: the writer of this article appears to shun parents who wish to be acknowledged by the rest of the world, because, HELLO, parents frequently are the invisible silenced voice in the background of their children's lives. (Mom, help me out here.) Face it, we are the stage managers of our children's lives. The producers. The backers. The custodians in every sense of that word, but MOSTLY the mop-wielding sense.

By parenting, we accept and allow someone else to be the MOST IMPORTANT person(s) in OUR lives. It is selfless. It is hard, wrenching, thankless. It is not looking out for number one.

To blog is to put a voice back into that silence. Yeah, I might be arguing here that parents are oppressed. I just might.

We are oppressed when some dumbshit thinks they know why we do what we do.

Posted by mryonker at 02:59 PM | Comments (7)

January 29, 2005

I don't know who Von Ferber is, but...

Misery always loves companyhere, Bad Mother feels my pain, and a little of her own as well.

I had the gagging, but not the vomitting; I'm counting myself lucky.

Posted by mryonker at 07:56 AM | Comments (0)

happy birthday to me!

Yep, I'm an olllld lady. 29.

The sleep experiment worked well last night. Josh did wake up twice. The first time I nursed him in bed and then stuck him back in the crib; the second time it felt like about 500am so I kept him in bed with us.

All in all, a much more pleasant and restful night than I've had in over a year.

The experiment shall continue.

Posted by mryonker at 07:46 AM | Comments (9)

January 20, 2005

blog hog heaven (hog blog heaven?)

I think I may keel over with excitement. I am actually in a class that REQUIRES me to post to my blog! Plus, I get to post to another blog along with a bunch of very cool people, some of whom I have only talked about behind their backs (hi Clancy!).

So, this means that during my hour of work each night, I CAN BLOG and call it work.

That aside: the real issue of today is this: someone in our small sleepy village is OUT TO GET US. If you know this blog, you know that my dear husband has a bit of a, ahem, truck-buying habit. He's a mechanic and has a hard time passing up a good deal. Normally he limits himself to rarer things (Vanagons, diesel Toyotas, four wheel drive Civics), though sometimes he gets what we need (mini-vans).

We moved to a small small village north of Syracuse last year. We had two vehicles then. Our neighbors were all very friendly.

Now we have (god, should I list them? what the hell): 4X Dodge Ram Cummins Diesel (the "plow truck"); 4X Toyota PU; 4X Toyota PU Diesel; Izuzu PU Diesel; Blazer; Caravan; 2 Monteros; and one Subaru Justy. Plus, my brother has an Escort. We have a two car garage that three of these vehicles are parked in. We have a shed in the back yard where another is parked (and completely invisible from the street).

Before Christmas we got a friendly letter from the village zoning dude saying that we were committing heinous zoning violations because we had "abandoned/junk vehicles"on our premises. Brian went to the dude, asked him what the deal was, and the dude told him that as long as the vehicles that were parked in the driveway were registered, we were fine. He gave us 30 days to fix it.

So. Brian squeezed one more car into the garage (hence the three cars in the two-car garage). Registered and insured the Justy. Problem fixed?

Apparently not. Since we didn't get rid of any of the cars, who ever doesn't like looking at our cars has turned us into the zoning board for another alleged violation: running a business out of a home/residence.

I'm very sorry, but there is no business going on here. Certainly Brian sells a car once in a while when we need something else, but we're not, I repeat NOT, making any kind of income on this venture. It would be nice, but it just ain't happenin'. We're lucky if we break even.

So. I guess we're lucky that there isn't any zoning law that restricts the number of vehicles we can have, or else they would have slapped us with that one from the get-go. What torks me is that someone is wasting their time worrying about what my driveway looks like. Actually, I pity the fool who has nothing better to do with his time than turning people in for petty (and false!) zone violations.

That person should get himself a blog.

Posted by mryonker at 10:28 PM | Comments (8)

January 17, 2005

the battery red

With my battery indicator showing that sliver of red, I finish an hour of work that commences the hour of work I will do for six days a week from now until all current pressing projects are finished. I thank 43 Folders, which is fast becoming one of my fave sites, for this plan of action (AKA overcoming my PERSONAL SUCK).

That list of projects will not exist here--I need to post them for people in my house to see so that I have some sort of physical evidence that my existence here is not simply as the maid, cook, wet nurse, baby sitter, and nag. I'd like to get a huge cork board to hang above my desk so that I can post things like "CURRENT PROJECTS"--indeed, a kind of print-based billboard blog for a very specific readership (too bad the monster can't read).

I have wrangled one supporter, kind of: after a brief but helpful talk with the H this evening (which consisted of him asking "What's bothering you?" and me listing all the stuff I didn't get done last semester and all the stuff I have to do this semester and nearly crying because I'd much rather be a dental hygienist), he said, "It's 10:00. You can work for an hour. But NO BLOGGING."

Hm.

Posted by mryonker at 11:42 PM | Comments (0)

flail, a little

I flail at the cusp of classes beginning tomorrow.

In a frenzy of domestic prowess-wanna-be, I spent this afternoon whipping up a fabulous cream of zucchini carrot bisque and some delectable raspbery almond bars.

I spent the late afternoon/early evening (until now) eating a bowl of soup, a raspberry bar, a bowl of soup, a raspberry bar, etc.

I'm nursing a sore knee, and off the training schedule until Thursday; however the forecast calls for a high of NINE that day, so I might be resting until Friday.

In other (flailing) news: working to find a crib for the monster toddler. He still is not sleeping through the night (at 15 months) and after polling my fellow mother-friends, have realized that not all kids prefer to sleep-share. It is hard for me to believe, but at this point I'm willing to try anything.

Further, if he is not in bed with us, it will be easier for me to stop nursing him several times a night (to shut him up, as it were). Which in turn will make it easier for me to wean him.

Hopefully when monster toddler is 16 he won't happen upon these archives and find me calling him a monster. If he does, let me say this: Joshua, I love you Bob-bob. You are cute and loveable and a bring a great deal of laughter and joy to this house. But right now, you have removed the cable from my laptop and are chewing the plug AND grabbing for the keys. And you keep saying "Hot. Hot."

(Do ethernet cables carry an electric current like phone wires?)

I love you Joshua. You are a challenge. You are my baby. But you are a M O N S T E R.

Posted by mryonker at 05:49 PM | Comments (2)

January 12, 2005

staggering, horribly riveting photos

Someone has compiled before/after satellite photos of various coasts of Indonesia and Sri Lanka.

Posted by mryonker at 07:46 PM | Comments (0)

toothpaste works!!

This morning while checking the closings and delays, I happened to watch a clip on beauty myths on _Good Morning America_.  They debunked several, but confirmed one:  toothpaste does dry zits out! A friend from high school let me in on the secret (Amy from Roosey, if you're out there, thanks!). I've been putting toothpaste on my face at night now for years.  Not only does it make you smell minty-fresh and feel tingly, but it saves money on zit cream. (Yeah, like I can afford anything from Clinique.  Gimmee a break.  And yes, living in my house IS like some insane reality-survivor TV show.)

By the way:  two-hour delay.  :(  I am a BAD MOM!

Posted by mryonker at 09:32 AM | Comments (0)

January 03, 2005

An upper. Or something.

The story concerning the REASON we had no heat yesterday is less funny and more scary. The company we deal with has been recently bought out by a larger company. When they put us on the delivery schedule, they (somehow?) put down our OLD (from 2 years ago) address. So our OLD house got 120 gallons worth of heating fuel that we were supposed to get, and then, of course, they were charging my account.

Posted by mryonker at 07:54 PM | Comments (2)

January 02, 2005

Look, if there was something pleasant to post about, I would!

It's 2 am Sunday morning. You pull off interstate 81 into lovely sleepy Parish, NY. The diesel engine in the truck your husband is driving growls as you take off at the end of the ramp.

The last day in VA is enough to make your whole family want to stay. 70 degrees. The kids jolly, playing on the swingset, riding bigwheels in the carport; you sitting happily in the sun, feeling it WARM your skin. Ah. But the truck was packed, heavy with presents and hand-me-downs from cousins and road snacks.

The drive home is leisurely. Stop north of Richmond, north of Fredricksburg, Opal. The kids run and run; you swing through a few sun salutations, as this will be the last you see of it.

Now you're back. Your husband unlocks the door, and you gather up the baby and kids. The air is cold and the baby gasps in his sleep as you hury him to the back door. You walk into the kitchen, and something isn't quite right. The baby is still gasping. You check the thermostat. IT READS 43!

The kids wake fully, shivering. You hear the furnace running--what's the problem? Lovely husband traipses to the basement, and you hear soft curses. No heating oil. Why have they not delivered? You paid the bill before you left. You are on automatic delivery. There should be NO PROBLEM. You should not have three blue-lipped children crying at your knees.

Your brother, who was home while you were gone, should have, um, NOTICED that it was colder than a witch's boob in the house?

Oh, apparently not, since all the beer is gone out of the fridge; he kept himself warm in other ways.

Brian asks you if you'd like to get in the truck and return to VA. At least there your children will not freeze to death.

So, you retrieve every blanket in the house (which, surprisingly, is quite a few). Find the space heater. Hang blankets to cordon off a section of the living room. Plug space heater in, put children on couch, cover them with four blankets, hunker down on the floor with several blankets of your own, and watch the space heater warily with visions of the damn house catching on fire the minute you fall sleep.

Welcome back to CNY.

Posted by mryonker at 12:42 PM | Comments (1)

December 20, 2004

Fear and Trembling (in Academe)

Link: Fear and Trembling (in Academe).

Above: an addition to the blogroll, a dear friend from school, Jen Wingard busts into the blogosphere.

Already in two posts she has achieved what I, in 80-odd posts, am still working toward: self-effacing intellectualism.

I think I do the self-effacing OK. :)

...

On the agenda for today:

1 Jack's Christmas program at school
2 Finish reflective essay
3 Finish grading and turn grades in
4 Figure out how to change the banner to include an image in MT (working on changing it via the instructions offered here by elise , but haven't had luck--suggestions, anyone?)
5 NOT run, unless my crazy neighbor talks me into it. It's only supposed to be 8 today.

Posted by mryonker at 09:54 AM | Comments (2)

December 19, 2004

holidaze

Spent all weekend going back several recent promises:

1. Cleaned the house. Not the upstairs/bedrooms, but the downstairs. Brian did a good deal of the work, and my desk still looks like a nukyoolar bomb hit it, but the floors are clear of clutter, the bathroom shines, and the kitchen has been swept, mopped, scoured, etc.

2. Had company yesterday. Some friends that we met when we first moved to CNY, who have the same age/sex kids as we do (girl, boy, boy), came for dinner. It's funny; when we visit them at THEIR house, the kids are subdued and well-behaved. But something happens when kids (any kids) get into my house. Because I don't have a bunch of expensive furniture, and because I don't have knick knacks and I don't worry about the floors getting scratched, etc, kids SENSE that they can act like raving lunatics and scream and jump and vault the couch, etc. SO, my three kids plus their three kids plus my niece, all losing their minds playing Calvinball in my house. Fun.

3. Had MORE company today. Jack's 5th birthday is the 28th, but since we will be in VA for the holiday, I figured he would appreciate a small get-together with friends from school for a birthday party. I only invited 4 kids, but three of the four had older siblings Hannah's age, so they came, plus I ALREADY HAVE four kids in my house. So, I invited four kids, but still had to assemble 12 goodie bags and find space for them all to play musical chairs. I don't have that many chairs!!

Note to self: musical chairs is not a good multi-aged game. The bigger kids throw their weight around, shoving and threatening the littler ones with glares.

In other news: D and I have been running. (I wasn't sure how far into the winter we would make it.) So far we haven't experienced frozen snot, but today it snowed on us and it felt like little ice picks pricking us in the face. And we were chased by the village plow, which is quite scary. The plows up here are like HUGE dump trucks with three huge blades winging off the front in several directions. I had visions of bad Stephen King short stories about runners being chased by demon-possessed plows.

On the bright side, to have to high-step it in a foot of snow on the shoulder for a few hundred meters is probably a good way to mix up the work out.

Posted by mryonker at 07:15 PM | Comments (1)

December 16, 2004

what I'm thankful for

There are some things that are keeping me alive right now. The first is Heather Armstrong. Mom, if you could just take a moment to read some of what Heather's doing over at dooce, you'd understand that I am not a depressed worthless idiot using my blog to get everyone else down. I am writing about barf and dumb people in order to evoke a certain pathos in my audience, one that will be beneficial to them in that they can think, "hey, my kid screams ALL THE TIME too."

For the record, I just fed Joshua, who barely has any teeth, a Keebler Grasshopper so he would SHUT UP for JUST A MINUTE.

He will, of course, get chocolate goo all over himself and everything dang thing he touches, but I will get a moment of peace, even if it is to compose a thoughtless post on the other thing that brightens my day:

Conan O'Brien. He has GOT to be the funniest late night host by far. His bit the other night with the bungee jumping baby Jesus and the rocket powered fruitcake was hysterical.

I don't have the luxury of staying up late to watch TV; normally if I'm up I'm trying to write. But the other nigth I had no energy to do anything (falling asleep included), so I stuck my butt on the couch and watched the toob.

And laughed.

It gave me hope. So this is for you, Conan. Thanks for your red rooster-comb hair and your little ditty "I'm-a gonna go to hell when I die." Thanks for your uncanny ability to row yourself across the stage in an imaginary canoe. Thanks.

Posted by mryonker at 11:07 AM | Comments (0)

December 14, 2004

back in the saddle

The lull in blog activity has been a result of the horrible stomach virus that has wracked CNY. Entire schools have been closed because of this wretched bug. My family was down last week with it--and it's not a pretty thing, let me tell you.

Instead, I'll simply say [Gratuitous Plug]: thank God I have a Bissell Green Machine. It's lightweight enough that I, weak from days of non-eating, could lug it around my house, steam cleaning the various liquid and not-so-liquid-yet-still-grossly-wet body fluids of my family members (who were also not eating, yet still barfing everywhere, somehow).

I'm finally 100%. Back to the blog, back to writing, and back to the avoidance of cleaning my house (ooooh, it is a mess). I've spent the last of my sick days laundering linens and I don't want to do any more laundry. The dishes wait to be washed. The christmas tree, while up and decorated, sits amidst various storage boxes that the ornaments came out of.

My aggregator is full of bold, double digit numbers. I will catch up, I will! I will post something substantial! I will finish my reflective essay! I won't clean my house!!

Posted by mryonker at 01:50 PM | Comments (3)

November 14, 2004

buddhism and motherhood

For a non-school project--whenever I get time (haha): buddhism and the Western (American) Mother.

So many things in our culture don't allow for (or contradict entirely) the core precepts of Buddhism. Now, I don't proclaim here to *be* Buddhist; I have only read around a little, meditated a little, and have mostly pined for the simple life that following the eight-fold path would be. Plus, I'd have trouble with abstaining from things like caffeine, especially in light of my current addiction to Dunkin Donuts extra cream extra sugar.

One thing I notice with the kids in my house is competition. I've blogged briefly about my aversion to agonism in the past , and it's something that, given more time, I'd like to pursue a little more carefully. Now, I'm probably mixing up my Eastern philosophies (and even as I write this, I think I'm bleeding into Taoism), but getting my kids to understand the idea that the "tallest tree gets chopped first" (ie, being the "best," "fastest," etc isn't always a good thing) would really be helpful to me.

Kid 1: I danced better than you today, Kid 2.

Kid 2: No, you didn't. You had to do that jump thing twice. She made you line up again.

Kid 1: No, the good people have to practice more than the people who aren't as good.

Kid 2: No, if you have to do it again, it means you didn't do it right the first time.

LATER THAT DAY

Kid 1: I'm first!! I finished my dinner first!

Kid 2: Yeah, because you shoved the last four bites in your mouth at once.

Kid 1: Yeah, but I BEAT YOU!!

Kid 2: Moooom!! Kid 1 is talking with food hanging out of her mouth!!

Granted, if I could be a calm, non-competitive, model, I might be able to infuse the household with calm, lovingkindness. But when my response is normally:

Mom: Y'ALL QUIT FIGHTING AND BE QUIET AND DON'T TALK TO OR TOUCH OR LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER OR I'LL... (stop the car, take your plates away, sit you in the corner, etc etc).

Not too much lovingkindness in that.

Other moms looking for enlightened motherhood:
MOM & Pop Culture : i am the buddha mom.....

Posted by mryonker at 01:24 PM | Comments (3)

November 07, 2004

highly scientific experiments conducted while running

Our Sunday 12-sometimes-13-miler was only 10 today. Myriad discomforts and injuries had us walking on a couple occasions, and we walked the last mile, so we're calling it 10.

I had the pleasure of conducting several highly scientific experiments today (mile markers are estimates):

Mile 3: the "snot viscosity experiment"
After repeatedly sniffling and wiping my dripping nose, I decide it's time to see what happens if I do nothing. The drip of snot slung from my nose, swinging and nearly hitting me in the face, until it reached my knees, at which point it finally snapped.

Mile 5: the "reaction to german shepard stimulus"
When faced with a large black charging german shepard, Deb begins singing "10 Little Ducks." I mutter gently "keep running, keep running" (a la Dory from Nemo). Said shepard leaves his yard to accompany us for a few miles, is christened "Dumbass" because he cannot stay out from under our feet AND charges passing cars.

Mile 7: the "big hill experiment"
I ran this experiment to see which got me up the hill with less agony: if I was the talker, or if I was the listener. Apparently, if I am the talker, I get up the hill with less agony. This might sound like it contradicts common sense (as in, talking would detract from my breathing, etc); however, today DEB talked up the entire hill, I felt like I was going to die and she crested the top saying something that sounded like "oh, that's getting easier" or some crazy bullshit like that.

Mile 8: the "what's Dumbass's *real* name experiment"
(AKA how will Deb and I react to a strange vehicle slowing down next to us)
Driver: Hey! Kaiser!

Deb [to me]: Do we ignore him?

Me [to Deb]: Sure.

Driver: Kaiser, come!

Me [to Deb]: Why would you name your dog after a sandwich roll?

Mile 10: the "snot viscosity experiment, iteration 2"
Apparently after 7 miles, the tenacity with which snot will swing from one's nose is is much different than it is at mile 3. Thicker? It hung only to my chin, and then proceeded to swing pendulously, at which point the swing was interrupted by my cheek.

For those purists among you, I will posit here that I believe narrative to be a highly scientific method. Seriously. So no cheap shots at the method.

Posted by mryonker at 12:20 PM | Comments (0)

November 06, 2004

brownie night out

I have a raging headache, probably because we just returned from the yearly service unit event for Girl Scouts. Our service unit manager always manages to make it into somekind of dance with a DJ, which the girls all love, of course, except that they always remind me of high school dances where you can't talk to anyone because the music is too loud and the dance floor is not being *danced* on, there are people milling around and hanging out and trying to talk. Over the music.

Plus for this dance I had my two non-brownie children with me. Jack hooked up quick with a couple of Daisies (his sweetie from pre-school was there) and so they chased around and only broke ONE glass vase, luckily, and didn't spill ANY kool-aid, somehow. Josh simply sat on my hip all night, and even had a little fun when I tried to do the electric slide holding him. It's a lot more work to dance when you're holding a 25 pound sack of baby.

Now my head aches, there's nothing on TV, and I have nothing to read. I read blogs for about an hour yesterday, all at one sitting, and ended up feeling carsick. I'm gonna have to figure out what's up with that.

And tomorrow is Sunday already. Torture 12-mile Sunday. I don't even want to think about it.

Posted by mryonker at 09:44 PM | Comments (2)

November 05, 2004

mourning several losses (and a record for the use of the word "pee" in a blog entry)

First, I should just say that I, like others and others and others (though those listed here have faculties of expression where I don't), am disappointed nearly beyond expression; I woke in the night Tuesday (Wednesday morning) to pee and surfed over to CNN to check on how the electoral numbers were coming down. Then (somewhere around 3 in the morning), Kerry still had a fighting chance: Ohio. I slept the rest of the night hopeful. I woke the next morning to huge losses: Ohio looking red, and my mail lady knocking on the door to ask if we had a "little calico kitty." Well, yeah, we got three. She pulls me out into the driveway so I can see into and across the road: a small body of white mottled cashmere lay still near our mailbox. She wanted to catch us before we put the girls out for the bus (for they would have certainly seen her first.)

I thanked her. Brian retrieved her, my Callie, and put her in a box from a case of valvoline. He buried her unceremoniously later that day near the garden and we waited until Hannah was home from school to tell her. She was devastated, understandably. She's a pretty sensitive little lady, and Callie was "the favorite" all around.

The hard part, though, was that Callie and the others have been relegated to the outside since Ginger (calico torty) peed rather obstinantly on the kitchen floor right under my nose with something like disdain on her little black and brown face [this was a couple weeks ago]. I flipped out and sent them all outside for good. We plan(ned) to put a kitty door in the garage and fashion a small cubby for them to cuddle in. They tended to prefer being outside anyway, and were really only inside to eat (and pee on my floor, it seems). Anyway, I feel huge guilt for kicking them out. Hannah even said "Mom, Callie wanted in last night! You should've let her in!!" Ugh. My scripted "I can't handle the cats and the bazillion people. I have enough trouble cleaning up PEE from PEOPLE much less pee from cats" sounded heartless.

So, back to documenting reactions to the election. This, via Liz Lawley should be telling to all those evangelical, value-mongering, anti-intellectuals who think W is a pious leader. I should mention here that this Bush-giving-victory-bird is not from this victory but instead from something from when he was govenor of TX, but I don't even care about contextuality or fairness or any rhetorical responsibilty right now.

Let's do polemic, shall we?

Posted by mryonker at 07:19 PM | Comments (4)

November 02, 2004

voting narrative

Derek posted a quick narrative of his first voting experience here in NY.

B and I walked into town hall to vote (#120 and #121). There was a small line, and we waited, studying the hard-to-read model of the ballot. I was thinking: why could you vote for Kerry/Edwards as Democrats, or as "WF" (Working Families?)? How confusing can they MAKE this?

Then, as we made our way to the desk thingies to sign our names, we realized there were TWO DISTRICTS. I did not anticipate this; there was no indication of such a thing on either of our little postcard acknowledgements.

The constable who stood sentry was of little help:

Brian: How do we know which district we're in?

Constable: It depends on which side of the street you live on.

Brian: What street?

Constable: [gesturing indiscriminately] This one.

Brian: Route 69?

Constable: [jabbing finger in same non-direction] This one.

Brian: [with saintly patience] So if we live south of 69, which district are we?

Constable: South?

Brian: [clears throat]

Lady We Know from Elementary School Who Was Working Poll: Hi guys. You're in District 2.

So, that's good to know. Then after we signed our names, I began studying the actual polling machine. (There was a little replica for people to "practice" on outside the booths.) Ours was exactly what Derek describes: big red lever closes the curtains, you tick smaller levers to indicate your choices, and you swing the big lever back to its original position to BOTH open the curtain and reset the machine/cast your votes.

I had a moment of anxiety before I swung the red lever back that something would stick and I would be standing in the booth with the curtains open and my votes still in place.

I don't have a detailed memory of what it was like 4 years ago in VA when I voted last, but I do remember getting a sticker (I VOTED!) and that I wasn't at any point confused.

I can understand how people could feel afraid of being judged. The constable obviously thought we had crawled out of some hole in the ground since we 1) did not know which district we were in and 2) did not understand his special constable sign-language.

I'd be interested in hearing or reading other election day narratives.

Posted by mryonker at 08:10 PM | Comments (0)

November 01, 2004

proof that my life is hell

For those of you who don't understand just how messy my house is, or how crazy I go trying to keep up with the four children and two men I live with, I offer this, an example that I cannot keep things organized:

To contextualize: here, I have just finished organizing the exam proposals of 5 other students from my program who are now finished with exams. [I need to read them soon.] I turned my back for ONE MINUTE (possibly less; no hyperbole here) and here is what I find--the littlest undoing (with much glee) the organizing I worked so hard to acheive.

I should just give up.

Actually, this is also proof that I have a FANTASTIC life. This baby is pretty damn cute. And I looooove him. He is ONE YEAR OLD (yesterday; he's a Hell-o-ween baby :), and he says UH-oh. Brian and I are horribly goofy and overcome, giggling and parroting him.

Us: UH-oh.

Josh: UH-oh.

Us: UH-oh

Josh: UH-oh

Posted by mryonker at 09:54 PM | Comments (1)

calories, laptops, recycling

Note to self: Running for 4 miles is effectively cancelled out by returning from said run and eating a bowl of Grapenuts, half a bag of kettlecorn, a peanut butter and honey sandwich, a handful of krinkle cut potato chips, and a Coke (all at one sitting!).

In fact, this behavior (and I write this for myself to read later!) is probably why you bitch and moan about running your tail off and never seeing "results."

That done, a word about my lovely laptop: I'm sick of it. (God, don't tell Brian. He could have bought another truck with the money we paid for it.) I'm not sure what it is, whether it's the small screen, the flat keyboard, the touchpad...

But whatever it is, here I sit at this ancient (grape!) iMac, punching away at the sluggish black keyboard, listening to the telltale rreeeennnnnngarrrrrrreeeeeeeennnnnnga of its guts, wishing I could check my email at this (the kids') desk instead of over at mine. I'm hoping my lust for the G4 will return.

And finally, a note for the members of my household who are over the age of 25 and who do not read this blog: when there are TWO trashcan-looking things in the kitchen, one filled with garbage like candy wrappers, leftover spaghetti, lightbulbs, dryer lint and poopy diapers and the other with milk jugs and milk jugs and maybe one Juicy Juice can...that one's a RECYCLING BIN. That means you do not put your old (and rather dangerously pokey) guitar strings and your strangely-ripped-to-shreds mail into it. I'm sorry the trashcans are the same size and have the same trashbags in them--this makes things difficult to distinguish. Maybe I'll have my Brownie troop fashion labels for them. We're looking for some service projects.

Posted by mryonker at 09:05 PM | Comments (1)

self-effacement

1. Eating leftover thick-crust ham pizza and orange juice for breakfast makes midday heartburn a sure thing.

2. Clark bars are gross (but to throw away a candy bar, even if only snack-sized, is unthinkable).

3. You cannot keep books from old lit classes: Sexing the Cherry, All the King's Men, Steven Millhouse (or Edwin Millhauser or WTFever), Orlando, Ulysses and nearly 25 more are all sitting in bags ready to go...? To the Rescue Mission. You cannot keep stuff. (You're keeping Borges and Faulkner! that's it).

4. Asking the neighbor kid whether he wants a plate of dinner or not is a waste of your breath. Just plate it up and send him to wash with the rest of them.

5. Calling your husband worthless on your blog, and then leaving it open on his machine, and then expecting him not to react or get mad (even though the post was REALLY about his redemption!!) is asking for domestic turbulence.

6. When carpet is removed, you actually have to BUY something else to put in its place. (It's gonna be laminate).

7. After you run 13 miles, and you're hurting and hurting, and your neighbor knocks on the door the next day to ask if you want to run, and you're proud and more afraid of being called a wussy than you are of injury, you are a dumbass and say "Sure, I'll be over in an hour."

8. When the neighbor kid leaves his (filthy, nasty) socks in your house, you are afraid that returning them without laundering them reflects poorly on you.

9. You watch _Desperate Housewives_ with wicked shame, secretly envying the perfect redhead's domestic flair.

10. The best way to forget you're supposed to be preparing to give a mini-talk on your current research project during a program colloquium in two days: blog.

Posted by mryonker at 05:38 PM | Comments (2)

October 31, 2004

dooce, carpet in the kitchen, Halloween

A quick entry before I leave to run 15 miles. Yes. I think I may die, but I have to make up for those days I missed this week. UPDATE: We only made it 13 miles. My feet felt like they were going to fall off. Actually, it felt as though my feet HAD fallen off and I was running on bloody stumps.

First, I'd like to give a shout out to dooce, a site that will have its place on my blogroll once I do the next update. This chick is a riot, a mom, and talks of constipation with reckless abandon (after my own heart, there).

For those of you who read this blog from the beginning (which was probably none of you), you'll know that its original title was "Carpet in the Kitchen." Indeed, my house *had* carpet in the kitchen, and I felt as though my life followed that idea quite literally: highly impractical, a bad idea all around, completely impossible to clean or maintain, and a HUGE pain the ass in general.

Well, for all of my bitching here (and elsewhere) about the worthless men that share this house with me (husband, brother), they both redeemed themselves fabulously yesterday as they proceeded to yank out that damned carpet.

It was no small task, as the crap has been in there for 50 years. It was this nasty carpet-and-pad-in-one shit that, since it had been in a F*@%ing kitchen, was exposed to various liquids over the years (I can attest to the liquids from this past year only: water, milk, apple cider, Juicy Juice, pickled beet juice, cat piss, bleach, vinegar, etc). Such liquids of course do not DRY or EVAPORATE, but instead soak into the carpet padding junk, making the padding ahere all the more stubbornly to the underfloor.

So, Brian, peeling the crap up, Tucker using a flat shovel (sharpened with a grinder) to scrape the extra padding up off the underfloor, and some kids watching with interest:

Posted by mryonker at 07:53 AM | Comments (2)

October 27, 2004

don't buy the candy too far in advance

A note of warning: this post reveals my manic self. If you want to continue to read this blog under the illusion that it is written by an even-keeled, normal (!even!), person, this post will shatter and sully that ethos.

I wanted this list to be a post of regrets and mistakes I've made this week. I've neglected the blog. I haven't run in three days. I still haven't started up a blog for my research. The new (to us) couch Brian brought back from his mom's is still in the truck because I haven't had a chance to clean and rearrange the living room. Blah blah blah. It seemed like I had a pretty good running total, until I realized that such trivialities are trumped by the very biggest mistake I made this week:

I bought our Halloween candy on Sunday. The candy that we're supposed to pass out when kids come to our house. I bought it on Sunday.

Well, no, it's not all gone. Not yet. The reason it's not all gone is that I bought (literally) 10 bags of candy. I bought 10 bags because we live in a small village in a mostly rural county, and the stretch of our road in the village tends to get an enormous amount of trick-or-treatin' traffic since the country people bring in their kids by the truckbedful, drop 'em off at one end of our street and pick 'em up down at the other. My neighbor warned us that they get upwards of 200 visitors each year.

So I figured I'd better be prepared. And I figured that, for once, I wouldn't wait until the last minute to get prepared. In fact, I thought I was being responsible! Organized, even. I thought I was saving myself the later stress of hurrying out Halloween afternoon to scavenge the last meager bags of Smarties and Dum Dums.

So, on Sunday last, a whole week in advance, I bought $16 worth of Snickers, 3 Musketeers, M & Ms, Reese's Sticks, and Crunch Bars (no crap candy from my house! no eggs or TP or pumpkin smashing here!).

Now, I sit sadly amidst a myriad shiny wrappers. It's not my kids, or my brother, or even my husband who has built this mountain of refuse. It is I. It is me. Whatever. I am so fuzzed out on chocolate right now (and have been since Sunday) that I can't even remember which (I? Me?) is correct.

I tried moving it to the top of the refrigerator. I took the grocery bag and SLUNG it up there. 5 hours later, I'm dragging a stool in from the dining room (a la Jackson), climbing and teetering and grunting to retrieve it. I'm darting furtively to escape recognition; I'm hiding (snack sized! so conveniently hidden!) the small treasures in my SLEEVES, surreptitiously unwrapping and trying NOT TO CHEW so visibly that the many little people with whom I share my life don't notice and ask WHAT ARE YOU EATING?? Because if I happen to ever move my mouth in a near-chewing manner, I have 4 of them on me, prying my lips apart, asking for a bite. And if they know I've dipped in to the stash, it's fair game.

Damn. I need a Crunch bar.

Posted by mryonker at 10:14 PM | Comments (5)

October 24, 2004

antje duvekot

I had the goodluck yesterday of getting to travel to Ithaca with my friend Tyra. We've been planning a trip to go to the used bookstores for about a year now, but I've never been able to get away. In fact, the entire trip was otherwordly. I've never been without kids for that long in *years*.

While there, we were able to catch Antje Duvekot at a cafe on the Commons called Juna's.

Her work is slightly reminiscent of Joni Mitchell; her voice reminiscent of Tori Amos; her lyricism reminscent of the Murmurs. Mostly, though, she inspired me to pick up my guitar and record the handful of songs I've been thinking about.

Of course, I won't. It would require, you know, an hour or so of quiet time in my house, which, uh, never exists.

Tyra and Antje:

Posted by mryonker at 11:15 AM | Comments (2)

October 22, 2004

i could be related to Kerry

Now that I've been working a little with MoveableType at school, and learning a bit about building templates and layout stuff, I decided to look around a little to see what TypePad would let me do different.

Apparently, not much, especially since I only pay the 4.95 a month. I could get some cool mixed media templates, but only if I upgrade. And as we all know, that measley 4.95 has, in the past, put my credit card over the limit. Lord knows I'd be in trouble paying 14.95.

I figured I might as well stick up a pic of me, since I'm getting some hits from people I don't know and people I haven't seen in a while. Plus, Clancy can have a pic of herself, why can't I? (Don't say it!!)

[[And all that crap about her trying *not* to lose weight!!? How I wish I had that problem.]]

Looks kinda like John Kerry? Sunken eyes, long face. Oh well. And it's pre-hair-chop; I'll update it in a few days.

UPDATE: And now it seems that the newly built site has screwed up the way the archives are displayed. WTF ever. Any ideas, anyone???

Posted by mryonker at 09:57 PM | Comments (1)

October 21, 2004

the heat is on, and a goodbye

Brian fired up the furnace today while I was at (warm) school. But I don't feel the victory like I should. I feel like we could have waited.

In other news, it seems I've become a victim of that old adage: "be careful what you wish for..." All my crabbing about the 7 vehicles cluttering up the yard and driveway has NOT fallen on deaf ears. Brian started selling some of them today. Well, he sold MY car today. WTF?? So, say goodbye to the Integra:
.

Really, I'm glad. Ever since we've moved to Central New York, it kills me to drive this car during the winter. In fact, the first winter I parked it. Last winter I drove it a little, but only if I had to. The sound of the sand and salt pinging the undercarriage made me cringe. The rust up here is terrible, really. And we can't really afford the luxury of parking a "summer" car anymore. And a last reason in Brian's defense: This is not a family car. Sure, it's got 5 seatbelts, but the middle seat in the back is about 4 inches wide and when you factor in the car seat, there's just no room for the kids to be comfortable.

So. Good-bye sweet Acura. I knew ye well.

And one gripe: Tonight the show _Without a Trace_ featured a story about a woman who, while on medication, fell asleep nursing her baby and killed her by rolling over her. I absolutely hate it when unconventional parenting/lifestyles are indicted in this manner; it reinforces general misunderstanding.

And while I grant that the woman's drugged state makes the story more accurate (sleep-sharing deaths normally occur as a result of drug or alcohol use), I still cringe. So let me take a moment to offer testimony: I have three healthy children, two of whom spent two years sleep-sharing and one who currently sleeps between his mommy and daddy. They are all well-adjusted, secure, happy, confident children. Here's partial proof:

Posted by mryonker at 11:09 PM | Comments (4)

October 19, 2004

welcome, Tyra

Just a quick, but necessary, post:

a dear friend at school, Tyra, is now on my blogroll. She and I had the opportunity today to discuss the workings of blogs (hers over at live journal. She has a cool aggregator over there that I envy (typepad people: do we have something comparable? I can't find such a thing).

At any rate, she asked if I had her blogrolled, and I had to admit with shame I did not.

No shame, no more. She now has her rightful place in my list. And I'll warn those of you who wander over there: her prose is thick and wonderful like molasses. Nuanced, interesting, definitely worth it, but thick. :)

Posted by mryonker at 08:16 PM | Comments (2)

October 18, 2004

wrongest wrongness

If there's one thing I do well, it's admitting when I'm wrong.

(what a phonetically strange word: wrong)

Hannah WAS sick yesterday. We all slept in the living last night on various sofas and couches because it was too cold upstairs (50) to sleep. Brian and I are having a "let's see who can stand the cold longer/who will wuss out and turn the heat on first" contest. (He doesn't stand a chance.) It's still 60 and sometimes a little higher downstairs, so we decided to camp. (I promise when the baby's lips are blue we'll turn it on!!)

So, we're all sleeping in the living room, and Hannah wakes me up with a migraine and a roaring fever. I felt rotten! She really was getting sick. I am a horrible, unfeeling, bitch of a mom.

Posted by mryonker at 12:42 PM | Comments (2)

October 17, 2004

Ann Coulter must be a man.

Don't get me wrong. She's a beautiful woman. I bet she was a beautiful man at one point. Actually, this is probably more than a little offensive to transgenders, and I don't mean for my joke to hurt anyone. But I found this gem of a quote here (it might be here once she updates things; it's the October 13 column), and I can't believe s/he's really saying it:

Imagine President John Kerry at the Berlin Wall. "Mr. Gorbachev ... I challenge you to get to an emotional place where you can imagine a different kind of non-wall reality, that fully respects the 'wallness' of your current reality, yet takes us on a spiritual journey in which ..."

Republicans are more simple-minded, but for some things you want to be a little less contemplative, a little less nuanced.

Hm. My goal is to always be aware, nuanced, seeing as many sides and angles as possible. I think humans would be much better off if words came before [!instead!] of violence...

Just think, if we all looked out for another person, if we, EACH PERSON, was more concerned with someone else's well-being, we would ALL be treated fairly and with kindess.

Simple-mindedness frightens me. Thoroughly.

Plus, her jab about the "non-wall reality" and spirituality is more than kind of ironic, if you consider the article in today's NYT by Ron Suskind (this is via Daily Kos) in which Bush's strange affinity for getting divine direction is creating quite a rift within the GOP... further, an aide told Suskind that

"guys like me [Suskind] were ''in what we call the reality-based community,'' which he defined as people who ''believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality.'' I nodded and murmured something about enlightenment principles and empiricism. He cut me off. ''That's not the way the world really works anymore,'' he continued. ''We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality -- judiciously, as you will -- we'll act again, creating other new realities...

So, for Kerry to ask Gorbachev to imagine a non-wall reality really is the same as what this administration does to the media and the American public on a daily basis. The only difference is that Coulter admits Kerry would ask for the reality shift. This administration simply shifts it without telling anyone.

Posted by mryonker at 11:27 PM | Comments (0)

double duty post

Some politics, some personal.

We'll go with the personal first.

Today, Hannah had an audition to dance (like, as a snowflake or something) with the Moscow ballet's Nutcracker for the Syr performance.

She's been dancing for over 3 years. In front of people. And I'm pretty sure that if she could have endured the audition, they would've had a costume to fit her.

But halfway through, she stepped out of line, crying about her eyes burning and the routine being too hard and fast (it wasn't).

I was ANGRY. I know she's only 8. But I feel like she's such a wimp. ( I know, how mean of a mom can I really be?) But she was so excited about dancing in a *real* show (like, not a cheesy recital), and then it was too "hard." Things are often too hard for her, like folding the laundry, riding her bike with me as I run (I run s-l-o-w), doing the dishes, picking up. She complains of pain constantly (my finger! my leg! my eyelash!).

So often, I hear myself: "Will you please SUCK IT UP??"

My lovely H, who we all know quit his job recently, was very sympathetic and defensive of her. I made some pointed, quite rude, comments in the truck on the way home about people persevering and doing things that are hard and uncomfortable in order to grow; about things that are worth doing are difficult. That life is, in general, not very comfortable at all.

B asks (oh, didn't he see it coming?) what *I* do that is uncomfortable?

Let me see...oh, if I could just think of ONE THING!!

I carried three babies inside my body. Squeezed them out of my body.

I nursed three babies--for well over a year with the first two and going on a year with this one (he shows no signs of letting up). Let no one mislead you: nursing hurts at first, and is forever uncomfortable: public feedings, teeth, in-laws asking "isn't he too old??" etc etc. I could think of more.

I bend over everyday to pick the shit up off the floor that every other person in the house walks by repeatedly: laundry, toys, trash(!), books, bags, laundry, laundry, laundry.

I wipe pee off the toilet. I scrub a bathroom that's probably as gross as a mall restroom; the same number (nearly) are in and out of it daily.

I wake up with the baby when he's sick/crying/has baby insomnia (and it's one of the three every night). I then get up, no matter how much sleep I've had, and get kids off to school, get myself ready, and go to school myself.

I run. This is highly uncomfortable. I know I choose to do it, but that's the damn point, isn't it? Choosing to experience the discomfort! So you can appreciate the benefits later!!

The important thing here is: I am not bitching to bitch. I do these things because I ultimately know they will make me happy, or make someone else happy. I know it sucks AS I do them, but I know the rewards are worth it! I don't know how to teach this to my daughter; I can't think of how I learned it.

I feel bad(ly) now, and I've made up with Hannah. She really is a good little ballerina. I told her now that she knows what to expect, next year she will make it through the entire audition--that the audition was important in and of itself, not the "getting in." The experience of dancing with strange people, learning and dancing unknown sequences, etc.

OK in other personal news: a favorite prof of mine asked whether I was doing my diss on blogs. Hm. It hadn't occured to me. The wheels are spinning.

And a political link: via angry bear a
clip from CNN's Crossfire that makes me wish I had cable. Not so I could watch CNN, but so I could watch the Jon Stewart Show on Comedy Central.

Watch it 'til the end. Jon calls Tucker a dick. It's a shame Jon's so funny, because he really is onto something very important about "serious" media.

Posted by mryonker at 09:02 PM | Comments (2)

October 15, 2004

retards, au pairs, discretionary income, hiring out, etc

Reading around a little today, I happened upon a blog conference that took place last week over at
11D centered on work and family. I haven't had the time to read through the entire conference, posts and comments, but this post caught me: The Dads: Retarded or Freeloading?.

Growing up with a Down's sister, the word retard always draws me, like a car wreck draws gawkers. I don't get particularly offended, but I'm always interested in the way people use it.

This post begins as a prompt concerning the division of labor in the home. Of course the back and forth of "I do it all; he does nothing" and "I do a lot; she does little" ensued in the comments. Interesting.

I forgot about the retard thing as I was struck by the frequency I was outclassed during that "discussion." People talked about having au pairs to help with their kids, using "discrectionary income" to hire out the lawn work, couples sharing some of the work but having cleaning people do things like the floors and bathrooms.

Its funny; I wanted to post something about the unconventional commune that I live in where my brother and his daughter live with my family, where the three adults in the house share the responsibility of caring for the kids (of course, I'd rant about me doing the biggest share). I wanted to talk about the boy down the street who has now eaten dinner with us 4 nights in a row, whose mother works at Wal-Mart and has asked if we could baby sit him; I told her yes and don't intend to take a penny of her money for it.

But I couldn't post. My comments wouldn't fit.

I think that capitalism makes us bad parents. It makes us forget what's really important, makes us torn between spending time on our kids and earning money to spend on our kids.

Posted by mryonker at 08:14 PM | Comments (6)

nooo!!

Cooking to Hook Up: The Bachelor's Date-Night Cookbook

I have a few beefs with this. The cooking-to-hook-up thing is questionable; it's like, the new "what's your sign" come on ("which girl are you?") with the further make-no-bones connotation of "Let's hook up (ie let's hop in bed)--uh, after I thrill and woo you with some recipe out of a book that *will* make you want me."

Plus, I answered the question about my favorite date with the 4-hour hike response, and this thing says my favorite date is a lecture!

At any rate, I tried to be honest AND be granola girl, but oh well. Apparently I was too honest.

I am Academic Girl Click on the picture below to read more: Take the 'What Kind of Girl Are You?' quiz at CookingToHookup.com

That's Academic MOM to you.

Posted by mryonker at 01:27 PM | Comments (2)

more on the debate

Bitch. Ph.D (on Oct 13) offers *my* sentiment concerning Bush's third-debate mini-rant (ending with "nevermind") about Kerry's use of network sources for information.

Also, it occurred to me last night that Bush was, in effect, putting down the very medium (specifically, people whose work is to produce news for the medium) through which his words were broadcast.

It's like: don't listen to the TV news. I'm ON the TV news. Don't listen to me. Or something like that.

I esp like Bitch's "hardef#&%ing har." That made the whole post for me.

Posted by mryonker at 08:07 AM | Comments (0)

October 14, 2004

an interesting tension

Geeky Mom offers and interesting and fun-to-read commentary on the tension of being both mom and geek (or academic, but I'll grant either). Her tension appears to be in the changing from one to the other, and my tension is all about my inability to separate the two. I think about this a lot; it has to do with the public and the private, I think. There is something about a refusal to really believe that a barrier exists between public and private--the the barrier is simply an artificial self-preservation or something. People are more real when I know the nature of their lives past the surface that is made available to me through public contexts (like work).

The work I'm doing with the home as a public space (for moms, mostly) attests to the conflation of public/private, and the constructedness of these ideas. They don't really exist, or they don't have to exist; some
peo-ple want/need to create boundaries--others (I) cannot.

Posted by mryonker at 10:02 PM | Comments (3)

some notes on the debate

I made it home last night just in time to catch the debate. Normally I don't bother watching them, simply because I'm hyperaware of how staged and inauthentic these debates are, and I end up feeling physical pain when I think about how people actually give credence to what is actually said. They seem entirely insubstantive.

The debates, instead, are a showcase of delivery. Who will stutter or misspeak? Who will sweat? Who will speak for an hour, resisting the urge to wipe at the sticky spit congealing at the corner of his mouth because it might make him look nervous (or provide grist for the SNL impressionist Will Ferrell)? Who will actually answer the questions?

So if we're talking about delivery: Bush smiled too much--almost giddily at times--while Kerry spoke. Bush cannot hold his mouth in an unpretentious manner. Kerry is able to look serious. Bush projects a kind of nervous defensiveness.

They wore the same tie. The same flag pin. In the same place on their lapels.

One thing did strike me about the content: Kerry put me off at the beginning when he talked about killing terrorists. But I think Shieffer started off with a hard question about whether we'll every be "safe and secure" again, and Kerry had to come off tough. I hold no illusions about ever really being safe, though, and I suspect that Kerry, like a cowboy whose feet are getting shot at, danced that dance because he had to.

In other news: my dear mother called me yesterday to announce with glee that she registered to vote. It's been so long that she couldn't remember who she voted for last; she thinks it might have been Goldwater. She's seen some of the debates, which have fueled her to act, but what really set her off was a campaign working in Webster County, WV (where she lives) whose focus is the three Gs: God, Guns, and Gays. If you for God, want to keep your guns, and think being gay is wrong or something, you should vote for BUSH. Ick. I lived in Webster County for a year (that's where our strawbale is) and while I'm normally one to try to explode stereotyping, I have never met more oppressed women and uneducated fear of change than I did in Webster. And a campaign like the three Gs, even though complex and not parallel grammatically, is probably working pretty well down there.

Well, there will be one Kerry supporter: mom. :)

One final question (I should pose this to Collin , who was an avid debator in his earlier years): Bush's move during the debate to begin a statement that questioned Kerry's use of major network reporting as evidence for a claim and then to say "nevermind" struck me as highly irregular as far as forensic delivery goes. The mean sound in his voice and the flippant "nevermind" sticks in my brain now...

I guess that really wasn't a question.

Posted by mryonker at 12:29 PM | Comments (6)

October 13, 2004

A new nanny

This blog is turning less into a record of motherhood and school and more into a repository for my personal hand-wringing.

This post will hand-wring, but it will also discuss why I can now start working earnestly.

My lovely H has decided to quit his job. We have been through this ever since we've been married (which is going on 9 years now). The history of it probably is partially my fault: when we got married, he quit college to work full time so I could finish my degree, at which point I would work full time and he would return to school.

Well, heh heh, I'm not finished with my degree yet.

The neighbors, Deb and Chuck, have successfully moved into phase two of our plan: Deb is working full time, Chuck began school this fall. And they, in all their infinite worldly wisdom, have managed to do it without borrowing money.

So, ever since he quit school, he has moved from job to job, sometimes keeping them for a year or so, sometimes quiting after 3 or 4 months. He can always find a job, and find a good-paying job (he's a genuis, pretty much; a talented mechanic, carpenter, electrician, plumber, tug boat engineer, etc).

It didn't bother me at first. He's been for entire years without working as well, although he was building us a strawbale cabin to live in at the time (and we were living in a tent, so I was encouraging him to build the damn thing!).

But he's decided he wants to stay home for good. And let me tell you: we cannot live on the 1100 bucks a month that I make. Even with the damn student loans (that will hopefully arrive soon), we will HURT.

On the upside, if he is home, I will get to write more, spend more time outside of the house getting research done, and work on the Oswego County Women's Cooperative, which doesn't exist yet but WILL exist by early next year, I promise.

Dr. Crazy lists criteria for the ideal partner. Two from her list: ambition and commitment *do* exist in Brian. Somewhere. He is committed to sleeping in and holds ambitions concerning the number of used trucks that can be parked in one driveway.

BUT on the bright side: I'll have that live-in nanny I've always wanted.

BUT on the not-so-bright side: it's mid-October in Central New York. It's 55 upstairs this morning. And we have heating fuel, but I'm feeling awfully stingy about turning on the heat right about now. The fuel costs $1.81 a gallon. Last year we averaged 200 gallons a month in the winter. Luckily I suck so bad at math that I cannot even calculate what we paid.

Posted by mryonker at 09:18 AM | Comments (1)

October 12, 2004

thanks! and more lists

To everyone who has offered kind words, I'm grateful.

Our trip to VA this weekend was a fabulous break, though there were a few unsavory moments. (Forgive my inclination toward lists. I'm liking them.)

1. I was happy to see that Brian had a fully stocked snack bag for our drive down. It included Three Musketeers, Twix, Kit Kat, and peanut M & Ms. I was disappointed, however, that he unthinkingly placed them in the back seat on the floor, where things got a little hot about halfway into the trip (just when I was ready for that Twix). M & Ms don't melt in the hand, nor do they melt while sitting directly atop a hot Montero transmission, so I settled.

2. Chik-Fil-A chicken nuggets, when partially digested by a four-year old, take on the appearance and odor of chicken-peanut salad. Brian's theory on the peanutty essence is that Chik-Fil-A fries their stuff in peanut oil. I'm inclined to believe that.

3. My sister-in-laws: one spent Saturday evening complaining about how quickly her one-year-old daughter grew out of the $50 shoes she just bought; the other spent the entire evening talking about her new boyfriend's marriage-ability factor (she is a two-time divorcee with two small children, who expects us to buy Christmas presents for every Tom, Dick, Joe, Cameron, John, Eric, and Harry she brings around).

4. The lovely husband, who has great insight about the constitution of vomit and foresight concerning road snacks, managed to BUY ANOTHER TRUCK. Luckily, it's not parked in my driveway yet. But I'm sure it will be, soon enough.

5. I got back and my TypePad account was suspended because my Visa card had declined. Instead of figuring out why (and I can guess: over limit), I rushed to change my billing info so I could post!!

OK. I'm watching Frontline on PBS right now. I'm bulldozed by what I'm seeing. Is it that PBS is soooo framing Kerry as a thoughtful, experienced, compassionate, intelligent person? That PBS is framing Bush as a greedy, opportunistic puppet? Pictures of Kerry with reading glasses, brow furrowed; video of him (from as far back as his Yale years) doing and saying smart things. Pictures of Bush lounging in that Rangers stadium, the testimony that Bush said, after 9-11, that he wanted to "kick some ass."

Posted by mryonker at 10:42 PM | Comments (1)

October 04, 2004

crash

somehow, my server account at school, where I store all of my pics [hence the broken images] and the web log I was running for the 307 I'm teaching this semester, research from last semester, syllabi from the last three semesters, all my stuff, basically, has been wiped clean.

can you say aw hell!!!

things will be back to normal soon. unless I commit hari kari first--which, I have to say, looks pretty good right now.

Posted by mryonker at 10:39 AM | Comments (0)

September 26, 2004

why I love my neighbor

There are several reasons:

1. She runs with me, and today we ran over 11 miles. Huzzah.

2. She allows my unruly children in her house, and her fabulously generous and polite (older, high school-aged) children play with them.

3. She does not mind nor does she begrudge me that my husband has 7 cars parked in the front yard.

4. She hangs her laundry out (making it OK that I do as well)

5. She has not shopped at Wal*Hell in something like over 12 years.

6. She makes signs like this:

Love her.

Posted by mryonker at 01:09 PM | Comments (0)

September 22, 2004

shame and self-loathing...

...is what I should feel, since I just ganked my 8-year-old Hannah's Justin Timberlake CD and loaded it into my iTunes.

But damn he's cute. But anyway. I like the groove.

Posted by mryonker at 12:35 AM | Comments (0)

September 20, 2004

Piled Higher and Deeper

I just wasted an entire hour reading comics. This one about working out has little to do with grad school, but everything to do with me.

Hello, Hershey Bar.

There are some REALLY hilarious ones... but they are also kinda scary. Like, yeah, this is me. Except that non of the characters is a mom. At least there weren't any moms for the hour that I read.

Posted by mryonker at 09:58 PM | Comments (1)

the unbearable pitiability

We went to the orchard yesterday. I love apples! I love caramel apples (CAR MEL, if you're wondering)! But damn it if they weren't $2.75 a pop at the orchard. So I bought a $9 bag of Cortlands (red, thick skinned, white tart flesh) and stopped at the grocery on the way home to get my own caramel, figuring I can make them.

Well, I couldn't. Suffice it to say I'm sitting here, unwrapping caramels, and eating a bite of apple, a bite of caramel, and actually only missing the nuts.

Next time I'll cough up the $2.75.

And if you're wondering how I can type the word caramel as many times as I had to for this post and still pronounce it CAR MEL, you're obviously not from the midwest. :)

Posted by mryonker at 02:41 PM | Comments (2)

if everyone had children: some olympic sports

1. prepare a meal with an 11-month-old clinging to calves
2. barf-catch with a bucket
3. speed-shower
4. chase baby up the stairs before he falls, quietly enough so he doesn't turn around, think it's a game, and climb faster giggling
5. race to shut the toilet lid
6. race to cats' water bowl
7. race to pack lunches, make breakfast, brush teeth, wash faces, comb hair, and put bodies on bus
8. one-handed diaper change (while the other hand keeps baby hands from reaching down and squishing in his own mess)
9. compose blog post in under 5 minutes and under the duress of multiple interuptions and constant background noise
10. orienteer through laundry, toys, books, furniture, and other miscellany to find that f$#!*ng binky!!

Posted by mryonker at 02:13 PM | Comments (2)

September 16, 2004

it's time to put my behind in the past

I posted an aside a while back about my aversion for agonism. I tend to be a somebody faint of heart—competitions and contests of any sort render me shaking with sour adrenaline. I have worked to overcome this anxiety—I always played sports in high school (varsity softball AND basketball—don’t laugh!!), but I have always been more comfortable with events in which 1) other people didn’t count on me and 2) the stakes were low (like, it’s really OK if we lose).

I guess this makes me sound like a spineless urchin. What a spineless urchin is doing in a graduate program (where the stakes are seemingly high) and working as a teacher (where people count on me) is sometimes a bigger conundrum than I care to consider.

I get through school day-to-day continually reminding myself that I am here (as a student) for my own interests, and that my ability to “win” an A or a degree is less important than the person I am and the growth I experience. I teach as a non-agonist, making the classroom as much of a non-competitive, non-threatening space as possible. This sometimes backfires, as students periodically walk all over me; however, for the most part I find the nurturing environment healthy for all involved. [There is an argument here that I am only peripherally aware of that is something about the teacher-as-mom. I need to find it.]

As a student, I don’t mind being challenged—I don’t mind Socratic dialogue. As a student, though, I DO need to know that my own working through of problems, theories, thoughts, etc will be treated with respect and grace, even if I am wrong or misguided. That is, if I am being asked to respond to or discuss something (as we always are in graduate courses), I have to feel SAFE, or else I find myself unable to manage the cobbling together of more than two words.

And I mean safe in the literal sense—I cannot work if I fear that harm (mental, physical) is a possibility. I have been lucky enough to only have encountered the prospect of harm once, but it was enough to convince me that no one gets any productive work done in the face of danger/threat. I must make the distinction between danger and discomfort, though. Much work gets done during discomfort (yoga! running! labor!).

Some stuff I’ve been reading lately addresses this. In Emotional Design, Norman cites a study by Alice Isen, who concluded: “When you feel good…you are better at brainstorming, at examining multiple alternatives” (19). Norman continues, “[w]e have long known that when people are anxious they tend to narrow their thought processes, concentrating upon aspects directly relevant to a problem. This is a useful strategy in escaping from danger, but not in thinking of imaginative new approaches to a problem.”

Of course, later on Norman outlines that positive affect is necessary for the generative phase of a project, but for focusing on a particular design issue or problem, a certain amount of negative affect is called for, and this is what deadlines do. But I’m not sure I completely agree. I’ll have to return to this later.

There’s also a connection here I want to make between affect/education/economy/politics (via The New Work Order and George Lakoff’s Rockridge Institute), but as I have now been summoned by the howls of the youngest, I’ll have to flesh this out later.

Posted by mryonker at 11:32 AM | Comments (0)

September 13, 2004

family reunion weekend

conversation, induced by a weekend of fast-food consumption, during 6-hour trip back from Winchester, VA:

me: did you notice at Chick-fil-a, that they have a mascot in the playground that is a chicken?

brian: uh huh.

me: yeah, it's a chicken! can you believe it?!!

brian: uh huh.

me: his name is skippy, or doodle, or something.

brian: uh huh.

me: don't you think that's simply bad taste?

brian: huh?

me: a chicken! at Chick-fil-a! that's like McDonald's having a cow promote their cow-burgers.

brian: oh.

me: and can't you see some twisted parent, saying "Look, Billy, this sandwich is what Speedy the Chicken looks like inside! These are Speedy Nuggets!"

me: that's why McDonald's has a clown and a Hamburgler and a weird purple Grimace monster thing eating cheeseburgers! a cow can't eat a cheeseburger! that's cow cannibalism!

me: Speedy the chicken can't promote chicken sandwiches!

brian: hey.

me: [out of breath] yeah?

brian: KFC makes skinless fried chicken, right?

me: yeah, I think so.

brian: so what do you think they do with the skin from the skinless chicken?

me: uh...

brian: they should fry THAT up and sell buckets of fried skin.

brian: that would sell like hotcakes.

Posted by mryonker at 12:54 PM | Comments (0)

September 06, 2004

A quick list for labor day

The things I have to finish TODAY (as today IS *labor* day):

1. amended reading list for my research methodologies ind study
   
2. Collin's bibliography
   
3. Web site for the WRT307 course I'm teaching this semester
   
4. post on agonistic educational model via Don Normal
   
5. the mounds (literally MOUNDS) of laundry that inhabit various corners of this house
   

Hm. Now that I write it, it doesn't seem that huge. I might be able to finish it all--as long as we don't stay at this BBQ all day.

Posted by mryonker at 10:13 AM | Comments (0)

September 03, 2004

A Quickie

Looking around briefly tonight to see what I'm missing now that school is in full swing. Came across a cool idea for our own WP's diversity work over at Jenny's (9-2-2004 "Dionysium").

Apparently, this gathering incorporates everything from music and poetry to lectures--a kind of performance-genre cocktail, if you will. I'm encouraged to find this stuff, because as a member of the diversity project at SU (the link is wrtdiversity.syr.edu, but I cannot get the darn link to work!!), I have been wondering two things: how can I incorporate a *useful,* *meaningful* web log into the mix, and how I can I contribute *good* ideas about events?

In other news: D and I are up to 8 miles on the weekend. This past weekend it rained on us the entire time--we were soaked to the bone. I think we might skip 9 and go straight to 10 this Monday. And we've signed up for the Syr Festival of Races 5K, which now seems like cake!! Maybe we'll be able to break 30 minutes...nah, who'm I kidding?

Posted by mryonker at 12:23 AM | Comments (1)

August 29, 2004

Apt. 11D: New addition to the blogroll

Apt. 11D

I came across this by chance, but I'd like to follow this up. One seeming disconnect between me and my fellow PhD students (and some faculty as well) becomes particularly boldfaced during "extracurricular" events, like the potluck we had this week to welcome new students/faculty. That is, we are all smooshed into one house, are feasting and imbibing with relative abandon, and while I am ready to forget, for just a moment, that I have 15 books stacked on my desk at home awaiting that frantic sticky-tab franzy I like to call reading, there are always a handful of revelers who corner me to discuss projects, exams, diss work, etc. I was cornered twice thusly last week.

I am not averse to "talking shop" while outside the proverbial shop. However, once a conversation begins that is seated in scholarship, something happens (like...*poof*) that makes it awkward or inappropriate for the conversation to segue into non-academia. It makes me sound/feel like a doofus. Let me illustrate:

party-goer: "I simply felt as though the presentation lacked a clarity of frame; that the author continually re-shifted her angle creating a problematic disjunct between herself and the audience."

me: "uh-huh."

party-goer: "...and she had several opportunities to connect her work to obvious theory-heros, but it was almost as though she hadn't read them..."

me: "oh..."

party-goer: "worst was her complete lack of awareness concerning femininst and critical pedagogy..."

me: [eyes glazing, shoving curry into mouth to avoid having to speak]

party-goer: "...all told, however, a well-delivered talk, one I may be able to return to, as a springboard into [blah blah blah]..."

me: [as party-goer pauses to sip wine] "Did I mention that little Billy is walking? Not even ten months old yet!"

party-goer: [with something like pity in her eyes] "oh..."

There is a lot more going on in this conversation that I'm ignoring, I know. I also have issues with hyper-criticality (and I encountered this at the potluck as well). Actually, let me be frank: I avoid agonism of any sort like stinking death, but remind me to blog on that later.

Luckily, our program here doesn't seem to be as bad as Apt 11D's, where people she worked with didn't know the names of her kids. In fact, one of SU's "selling points" was its family-friendliness. There are a handful of other grad students in my program who are parents (many dads), and our incoming class has another MOM which I am thrilled about.

There was an atrocious article in the Chronicle last year about the number of moms who are jumping academic ship in order to be SAHMs. God knows that thought crosses my mind daily.

Posted by mryonker at 07:08 PM | Comments (4)

August 28, 2004

More dissertation advice

I'm trying to figure out why terminaldegreewon't take a trackback; it must have to do with the platform or whatever. At any rate, terminal degree posted on June 7 a list of strategies for doing diss work. Very useful!

Posted by mryonker at 01:14 PM | Comments (0)

August 27, 2004

cheap blog entry

I should be working. I'm not.

Via Palmer.

Last Cigarette: I tried smoking when I was 9. It was pretty gross, and I got into SOOO much trouble with my step-dad for stealing his lighter (mentioning the actual punishment would have CPS after him even now, 20 years later).

Last Car Ride: Picked up my new contact lenses!

Last Kiss: few hours ago.

Last Good Cry: Probably last week.

Last Library Book: The Story of Junk, by Linda Yablonsky

Last book bought: Emotional Design, Donald Norman

Last Book Read: Reading The Secret Samurai, Helen Dewitt

Last Movie Seen in Theatres: Embarrassed to admit it: Daddy Daycare. It was pretty bad.

Last Movie Rented: 13 Going on 30. But I didn't get to see the whole thing.

Last Cuss Word Uttered: Fuck, I'm sure.

Last Beverage Drank: Rootbeer with dinner.

Last Food Consumed: Double cheeseburger. URgh.

Last Phone Call: Hannah's friend's mom, inviting her to spend the night.

Last Time Showered: This morning.

Last Shoes Worn: Adidas runners.

Last CD Played: Rachael Yamagata (she sounds like Fiona Apple... a lot)

Last Item Bought: Gatorade for the kids at the pool.

Last Download: Audacity, a multi-track recording/mixing program. Decent for freeware.

Last Annoyance: The baby crawling in circles in the bed, like a dog, trying to get comfortable. I can't do anything while he does that, because at any moment he could roll off. I just have to wait, laying next to him, holding an ankle or shirt tail.

Last Disappointment: I'm rarely disappointed.

Last Thing Written: Duh, this?
Last Key Used: The damn Caravan. The exhaust stinks and the tires need replaced.

Last Words Spoken: Goodnight.

Last Sleep: Last Night.

Last Ice Cream Eaten: Twist with chocolate dip.

Last Chair Sat In: This army-issue office chair that Brian and I fight over (two desks, two computers, one chair). Normally I get stuck with a stool or kitchen chair...but not tonight!!

Last Webpage Visited: Palmer!

Posted by mryonker at 12:37 AM | Comments (1)

August 25, 2004

comfort food

I couldn't resist. As a runner andproduct of the no-fat vegan-leaning generation, the atkins diet and other no-carb trends really confound me. So George H. Williams' post from a few days back (i got your atkins diet right here) caught my attention.

My comfort food: rice krispie treats. I have a dear friend and collegue who has an acute addiction to brownies (don't laugh!! it's true...she talks about them like cigarettes--"I'm down to a batch a day"), and my love and fervor for RKTs is frighteningly similar.

Certainly NOT low carb is my recipe. The conventional recipe, for those of you who might want to slice them into jaw-busting squares: 3 TBs butter, 10 ozs marshmellows, 6 Cs krispies (melt butter, add mellows and stir til creamy, remove from heat add krispies, put in buttered dish and refrigerate).

MY recipe: ONE STICK of butter, 16 ozs (or more) mellows, and 6 Cs (or less) krispies. Do not put them in the fridge, but leave them in the buttered dish. Do not cut into squares--take the entire dish with you to the computer desk and eat the batch taffy-pull-style.

A folded (unscented) baby wipe works great to keep the sticky off the keyboard.

Posted by mryonker at 12:01 PM | Comments (0)

August 12, 2004

Collin vs. Blog: Dissertation advice?

Collin vs. Blog: Dissertation advice?

So that I can find this later! I should probably print this out, poster-sized, and hang it here over my desk.

It would be nice if Collin would run some advice on exam writing, but since I just had coffee with him last week and bled him of as much as I could, I'll leave him alone for now.

What I hope to do (what I WILL do) is use the reading/writing for my exams as practice...set aside 3 hours a day in which I strictly discipline myself (no email, no surf, no...*gasp*...blog).

That way, by the time diss work begins, I'll be prepared. Because I KNOW the kind of writer I am: "I can't write anything...I don't KNOW anyting!! I have to read more first!!" Everytime I sit down to write, I end up reading more. This fearful babble and inertia persists until the Incomplete looms like a purple thundercloud, threatening to rain Fs.

Hm. Maybe I should work on that last Incomplete before I worry about exams.

Posted by mryonker at 09:05 AM | Comments (3)

August 11, 2004

being a real adult, and other excitement

I return from a Sunny Days board meeting. Sunny Days is the pre school at a Methodist church that Jack attends, and somehow last year I got wrangled into sitting on the board (it probably has to do with my girl scout troop meeting at that same church, my teaching VBS at that church, and my general hanging out at that church).

This year I've been wrangled into chairing this board.

Needless to say, I am the youngest person on the board, which makes me feel strange. I am also the least Christian on this board (which will evidence itself more fully later in this post). And these people, to make a long and agonizing story less agonizing, nit pick about the smallest thing. We had an hour-long discussion about TV brackets in the classrooms! They were too low! The kids will swing on them! We'll get sued when the TVs fall down on them! We have to send home no-fault letters that the parents sign, stating they understand that if their kids swing on the brackets, pull the 300lb TV on top of themselves, and are subsequently crushed, that the parents will hold the school harmless!

I drive to the meeting feeling like a real adult, a real member of a community, and leave feeling like adults sure can trifle a body to death...Like I'd rather swing on the bracket and be crushed myself than argue about the dumb brackets!!

MORE exciting is that I finally got the bookmarklet to work, so now I don't have to sign into typepad to post!! I tried a while back, and for some reason the drag-n-drop was not behaving. This is really what I'd rather have spent two hours doing tonight: figuring out the trackback crap. I will!!

In other news: I am letting the bloglines account dissolve. I can be a frootloop here; in fact, I may create a category for that personality so it can feel free to post. For those of you who don't know frootloop, she is a runner who thinks she's training for the Shamrock marathon in Virginia Beach this March. She has trouble understanding that we have children to feed, classes to prepare for/teach, and exams to read for/write. She has trouble understanding that we need to sleep !!

Frootloop thinks we are buddhist.

Posted by mryonker at 09:20 PM | Comments (1)

a drumroll for my blogroll

Three months, it's taken me, to put in a people list. It is only about half of the blogs from my favorites, but I need to go through some of the others to see if I want to list them here or not. I liked the way bloglines let me build a blogroll by searching and selecting, but the frames set up over there was really driving me batshit. Plus, when you visit your blogs over there, it doesn't actually send you to that blog, it simply opens it, bare bones design, without any commenting functions or any of the other extras people add in their margins.

Got up to run this morning at 6:30 and as I snuck the little one into the crib (we sleep-share at night), his little eyes flew open and proceeded to wake completely up. This is the second time I've had to forego a morning run because little dude decides he can't continue to sleep in the crib. I would leave him in the bed except he has a penchant for crawling out and landing on his head.

Today is an off day technically, but we got rained out yesterday night. We ran Monday on an off day, so we aren't behind on weekly mileage yet. But D is going to MA for her anniversary this weekend, so we'll be on our own to keep it up, and we all know how well I motivate myself without her (and if we don't know: I normally cannot even get into my shoes!).

Posted by mryonker at 09:52 AM | Comments (0)

August 10, 2004

urgh

Just realized that nearly all the links in the last post are bad. URGH. I still have not figured out the dumb trackback crap. I'm fooling around with a blog over on bloglines as frootloop. This is a real testament to my inability to write myself into one streamlined identity.

I'll have to go back and fix the frickin' URLs. As in uuuuRRRRLLL.

Posted by mryonker at 05:49 PM | Comments (2)

July 29, 2004

frustration and yearning for JUST ONE hour

This is my third attempt at this post. I began this two days ago, after reading Collin’s post about his new website. I followed him over to Abi Station to see if they had a match for my eyebrows (they don’t).

Other people have the opportunity to spend hours (or, an hour anyway) on messing and playing and learning this stuff. I cannot sit for more than 5 minutes without something/one requiring my attention.

As I type, the kitchen sink sends me a streaming litany of curses and EVEN AS I WRITE, the youngest stirs behind me in the pack-n-play, threatening to demand removal and my hands to hold, nurse, carry and otherwise provide him with everything.

He awakes. My life ends. I can’t even check to see if my trackbacks worked.

Posted by mryonker at 06:22 PM | Comments (1)

July 24, 2004

blog-without-the-net

I forgot to mention in my post on perseverence that an investment, while for some people provides motivation (like--if I buy this membership to this gym, I'll go because I can't waste the money), for me, I can easily remind myself that money means very little to me and losing or wasting it is something I do ALL THE TIME whether I try to avoid it or not.

So the fact that I pay for this blog simply is not enough motivation for me to post daily.

However, I did want to comment on a recent article in our local paper, in which a staff writer publishes an article, meant to discuss "generation y," its fleeting attention span, and how marketers must pursue such a highly fickle target. The article looks and "feels" like a blog.

Missing, of course, is the ability for readers to comment directly to the blog (so that the comment becomes part of the blog).

If I could comment, it would go something like this:

This is an interesting genre: the "blog-without-the-net," the "old-person-impersonates-the-young," and both of those squished into the project of portraying a culture of quick-is-cool marketing. I am inconvinced by the overabundance of IM phrasing (like LOL and BBL, for instance) and the forced-sounding wit (refering to a woman named Bagby as "bag-lady").

More importantly, though, this article made me wonder at the blog as an exclusive gen y medium. My reactions are mostly borne out of my indignance that all blogs don't look like that (not that I fault or venerate writing based on, say, whether conventional capitalization rules are employed). My blogroll (still not up, I know) is made mostly of people at least my age or older, whose posts work to connect and engage sustained productive conversation--who are not, for the most part, stricken with media-induced attention deficit.

Lastly, the author here doesn't give gen y credit for integrating fast-paced thinking into a functional, useful existence--something that I envy. I feel like the article is mostly a parody of the blog and of a culture--esp that culture's language use--a parody that could be more reflexive and critical.

Posted by mryonker at 10:48 AM | Comments (2)

July 11, 2004

Let's try this...

An attempt to trackback

Here, Mr BS discusses something that I often pine for: a life without teaching and academia. I would, on certain days, much rather drive a delivery truck (my dad, uncle, aunt, and brother all work for various and sundry delivery businesses, including fed ex and ups) than have to worry about whether or not to really use the horrific grammar worksheets I've cooked up.

Posted by mryonker at 10:07 PM | Comments (0)

On the Home Again

It's fabulous to be home. I love the midwest, I love traveling, but oohh, I love my own bed. And though my house seems like a shabby, horribly cluttered hovel compared to my aunt's in Wheaton and my dad's in Iowa, it's MINE and I can sit on the couch sideways with my feet on the arm and only worry marginally about the crumbs the kids track around. At my dad's I have to follow everyone around with a damn dustbuster.

Back to work this week. Teaching a summer session of writing--a small group of new HS grads who are energetic and fun. I am always trying to find a new teaching persona, one that isn't a tap-dancing comedienne. Two days, and I'm already going for the easy laughs (like, "Anyone know what the word 'dude' *really* means?").

I'm realizing that a blog isn't a live journal--it's more of a record of visited websites with commentary. I'm going about this completely wrong!! And the one time I tried to blog a site (palmer's) I effed it up. Urhg. I guess I should learn how to link correctly!!

Posted by mryonker at 09:42 PM | Comments (0)

July 02, 2004

Iowa Notes, Part II

A fun day at Henry Doorly, a fun day at the Omaha Children's Museum, a meal at Valentino's, and I'm all set. The highlight yesterday was Brian showing Penny Jack's funky rash crap on his head, and her RN self recognizing it immediately as ringworm. Urgh. Why--why do I, with my constant fear/paranoia of being seen as trash by the rest of my dad's family, have to have a kid with RINGWORM? I am crushed and embarrassed. I'm hoping that no one notices at the fourth of July bash on Sunday. Normally the Dahlkes drink enough, and wait until it's dark enough for fireworks, that I should be OK that no one sees. He is getting pretty bald in that one patch behind his ear, though.

Other embarrassing news: dad sent me a check for $100 that I didn't cash before we left. Now I have his check, and for some reason, am too embarrassed to ask him to cash it!? So I'm feverishly and sneakily looking through the phone books to find a branch of his bank to cash it at so we have gas money to get home. All the branches are over in Omaha, and I get lost in Omaha--even with the streets all so neatly numbered and lettered.

And a hurrah: I made it up dad's crazy hill today at the end of my run. I think I put a hurtin' on myself doing it, though.

Posted by mryonker at 11:46 AM | Comments (0)

June 30, 2004

Iowa Notes, Part I

After a quick one-day stopover in Chicago, we made our way to my oldest stompin' grounds, Council Bluffs, IA. My Dad's house is looking great, with the basement almost completely finished and lots of new landscaping. We got in yesterday and went directly to the pool, where Jack proceded to choke and gag and inevitably throw up. He came up from under the water, hacked a few times, and immediately I knew he would hurl (his gag reflex is monstrous). I told him, "Don't puke in the pool," which made my dad laugh (he thought I was kidding). So Jack took his gagging to the, um, SIDE of the pool, and ralphed there. How much fun.

After dinner, a game of kickball in the back yard; Brian took a trip to Target and spent a chunk of unbugeted vacation money.

Today, we're off to the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha--the best zoo ever.

My run this morning took me past so many senior citizens ("mature adults"),--I'm really understanding what an aging community CB is becoming. There was a time in my life that I wanted to return to CB to raise my own family, but now with Brian's clan firmly cemented to the east coast and the recent WV land purchase, I doubt I'll ever make it back here except for the 4th and other visits.

Posted by mryonker at 11:38 AM | Comments (0)

June 26, 2004

A Load Off

The part I most hate about teaching is grading. Every semester, I vow to keep closer, more precise grades so that I can whip out an easy, unquestionable mathematic explanation for every grade. Last spring, I taught an online upper division course, for which I had one student who turned everything in late and neglected to show up for the synchronous discussions. This person got a C.

He railed back in a poorly written email memo, saying that *I* was ruining his gpa, etc etc. So I had to stay up last night and "break down" his grade, which I hate doing because it's time consuming and makes me feel like I have to defend myself and my judgment. I resist doing it altogether, because in offering up the guts of my gradebook I feel somehow vulnerable. At any rate, it's done. Whew. Now I hope he'll quit bothering me about it, because you can't argue with numbers (haha).

Posted by mryonker at 08:25 AM | Comments (0)

uhrhg.

I realized that the last post is F*&!ed up. Not sure how it happened--it proves that I know less about this blogging thing than I'm letting on. I tried to link to another blogger, Michelle Palmer, but my coding somehow shut the whole post down and cut it short.

In a nutshell: Michelle Palmer has inspired me to embrace my status as an academic AND a mom, and I think Acade-Mom (Ack-uh-DE-mom) should be my blog's name. Carpet in the Kitchen refers really to only one of my projects, and though my life IS like carpet in the kitchen (impractical, ill-thought-out, often a big pain in the ass), Acade-Mom really fits better.

I also decreed that I would stay with Typepad and pay the $$ instead of shifting over to MT at the Writing Program server. That way, I can feel free to say what I like, rather than feel afraid of surveillance.

Posted by mryonker at 08:18 AM | Comments (0)

June 24, 2004

some decisions and direction...maybe

I've been thinking lately about what I want to accomplish with my daily published (but read by no one, as yet) writing. I remember being in an advance poetry workshop as a senior undergrad, where the prof (a poet I admired as a poet and despised as a teacher) revealed the secret to making our writing work for both us as writers and for our audience: we needed a "bag." Like, his bag was being a tall, sensual, African-American male up from the 'hood. Other bags in that workshop were the misunderstood pot-smoking long-haired mellow dude, the angry-ish lesbian, the Sylvia Plaith-like translucent-skinned girl exploring sex and sexuality, etc. I felt like getting into a bag as a writer would limit me--but I was also afraid of the bags I had available to climb into: married, young mother, white, writing teacher?

Now, though, I'm reading over at Posted by mryonker at 01:02 PM | Comments (0)

June 23, 2004

almost had to change my name...

The name of this blog, that is. My in-laws, who have inadvertantly inspired my interests in home decorating and spending, visited this week. Before they arrived, each free waking moment I had was spent cleaning. While they were here, (nearly) every waking moment was spent shopping and eating with them. And since they've left, I've been working to re-align my normal non-spending, non-doughnut eating self with the principles that I hold dear--those principles which, when I'm with B's family, cannot exist lest I offend their lifestyle with my own (as in, my "No, I am not eating a doughnut--they are fat, empty calories, cavity-breeding, and diabetes-inducing sugar overload" would imply that their choice to eat such nonsense was flawed).

At any rate, B was fairly certain that his parents would march us down to Home Depot for linoleum to replace the fabulously, ridiculously impractical carpet in the kitchen. Instead they deemed our lack of dishwasher to be the more heinous home problem we faced, and marched down to Sears to purchase one for us.

So for now, the carpet in the kitchen is saved. Although I did notice this morning, as I, barefoot, stepped close to the fridge, the sticky nasty spot where H spilled nearly a half gallon of apple cider. Euugh.

Posted by mryonker at 10:07 AM | Comments (0)

June 14, 2004

slow, but steady, going

One of my most loathesome (to me, anyway) characteristics is my inability to persevere. And while there are many examples from my life that testify to the contrary (for instance: I have yet to quit school or my marriage--both are running up on 9 years now), it is the smaller, seemingly more difficult goals that I can never seem to stick with. Like keeping a journal for instance. Or running on a daily basis. I frequently take up both, and frequently find myself two weeks into such an endeavor having neglected said endeavor for, say, the whole second week.

I find it curious that my ability to stick with this blog (and this, the fourth-ish post in five-ish days is a record for me) has been the mere possibility of an audience, or more specifically, a responsibili