Aquaman and a bottle of Pernod

So the big news (that surely overshadows another win by the Huskers) to share is that Henry put himself to sleep last night for the first time [with me home]. He must have found his teddy after we left his room because I found the teddy next to Henry when I started my nightly rounds. This success was preceded by a week of bedtime battles and 3 am terrors. Max was away the whole week in West Virginia, helping to save the Trichechus manatus (manatees) that have started to live around power plant cooling water discharge points. Henry would often ask, "Where is Dada?" I would explain where he was and what he was doing and Henry would respond by commenting on Max's transportation, "Big airplane, flew, air, big airplane" or that Max was going to return with, "Big present, Henry's"

The day before Max left, we attended a swim birthday party for a couple of pre-schoolers, one just a month younger than Henry. At first Henry wanted nothing to do with the pool; he wouldn't even let me change his pull-up to a swimmer. We just stood a safe distance from the pool and watched adults and kids play and swim. The birthday boy, with a coast guard approved life vest, was jumping in the water from a boulder near the edge of the pool and spinning in circles in the 8ft deep part of the pool! I started to play with Henry's toys right at the water's edge and not too long after Henry had found his inner Aquaman and let loose in the water (obviously, with me hovering/catching/chasing/splashing etc.) and ended the night not wanting to leave the pool. He truly loved it, I could see it in his face, he was laughing and smile right up to us forcing him into the car. We are going to look into swim lessons for him.

I think if you were to ask someone from Alabama, "What is the best thing about Alabama?" More that 50% would probably mention Alabama or Auburn football (you could guess their answer by checking for blue/orange or red/white preferences) and the other 45% would probably say the cultural events or places: Hot Air Balloon Festival or the Space and Rocket Center or Civil Rights monuments. And another 1% that are nerds would say the biodiversity and geography. But me, I have to say, the only thing I love, absolutely, positively love about Alabama are the kids. Everyday we drop Henry off at his school, we are always greeted by these darling, caring twins, Jyra and Kyra (who are always dressed to the nines and know it). They bring Henry his favorite toys because they know it comforts him. They and Henry's other classmates are so generous with their kindness; hugging, sharing, and showing things to us. There is this little boy named William, who always is a little bit late coming up to the three of us when we arrive, he will most assuredly have a ball in one hand and something sticky and gooey on the other which makes hugging him, well, challenging. Henry has begun to mention his classmates outside school. Henry often will explain that he played ball with William when we pick him up. At the park earlier this week in the evening, Henry found an orange barrette and ran up to me and showed it to me and said, "Jyra, Jyra." I explained it was like what Jyra wears but was likely not hers (and thought to myself, she would never wear that shade of orange).

Perhaps the most exceptional interaction I have had with a child was this week at the library. Henry and I were sitting at the Lego table building ships and planes and houses and robots, and they all end up in a really tall awkward tower that Henry is continually adding to or taking from. This little four year old girl, who we have had join us at the Lego table once before, approached the table and stood next to Henry and stared at him and just beamed with this goodness and joy; she reached up her little plump hands to gently hold Henry's cheeks and smiled. She took her hands off of Henry's cheeks and turned to me and with the most sincere voice and look of happiness said, "He is so beautiful."

I cried when I retold that story to Max that night over the phone. I my mom has often said it, but children really are so special and have such a unique view of the world and we are so lucky when they share it with us.

This week I am reading "The Once and Future king" by TH White inspired by this. I am surprised at how funny it is. I was not surprised however, to find that Wart was a bastard, which Disney left out of the movie, "The Sword and the Stone." I just kind of wish I had one of my high school English teachers handy to help me remember the legend of King Arthur a little bit better. But I love Merlin, who keeps house a bit like me.


It is still hot here, Florence and the Machine are wrong, the Dog Days are still on.

Cookies and Resignation.

Henry and I made pancakes and cookies on Saturday. He absolutely loves breaking eggs. I had a really hard time not letting him eat the choc chip cookie dough because Max kept coming into the kitchen and taking pinches of the cookie dough and eating it. When the cookies cooled a bit after coming out of the oven, Max offered a whole cookie to Henry, who took it and attempted to shove the whole thing in his mouth. Max cried, "Don't put the whole thing in your mouth!" After Henry finished, Max asked, "Was that cookie delicious?" Henry replied, "Di-di-slush. More, Please." Henry has reached the height were he can now reach things on the edge of the counter. I can help think it is darling when I catch him on his tip toes trying to reach for a cookie or tear off a piece of freshly baked bread.

Up until recently we have been pretty relaxed about potty training, but now we are trying to establish a routine of trying to have Henry go at home. When Henry would successfully go potty on the toilet, Max and I clap and exclaim "You did it! Henry did it! Good Job!" trying to be positive. However, now whenever we ask if Henry wants to go potty, Henry will clap his hands and say "I did it! I did it!" He has somehow jumped from being asked the question to the reward without needing to do anything. I have yet to resort to any other reward system as I am sure Henry will discover a way to manipulate it like this kiddo.

In my previous posting, I eluded that I had something serious I wanted to write about. It is not anything surprising, that is if you know me. I recently heard this story (here is the study on which it is based). I find it incredibly frustrating to have grown up being told by countless adults (teachers & parents), Public Service Announcements and feminists, that you can be anything you want, you can make your dreams come true if you just work hard enough. Today, I am not buying it. Look at the data. It saying, you can try; you can try to be mom; have a career, and guess what you are still going to make less than your average educated white male. I began questioning these lies when I heard this interview on Fresh Air with Ayelet Waldma, who is mystery writer that had been a lawyer before having children, in which she expresses,

"So I'm 44 years old, and I think I'm part of the first generation of women raised by these feminist mothers. And when I first was feeling so frustrated and depressed and angry about being stuck at home, I really kind of turned on that message, and I said, you know, this was a lie. This whole thing was a lie. We can't have it all. "

(I should, note she has let go of her anger about this as she has gained perspective and a profitable writing career.)

The second thing that has caused me to question this idea was the reading of "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell. In the book, the author attempts to understand how people come to be successful. He does not document the success stories of any women...I can't say why, I can only assume (which we all know can be dangerous).

And beyond all of things I have read and heard...I feel based on my current mother/PhD student situation, trying to finish research, potty training Henry and applying for a new job, I can't have it all. And then I can't help wondering, that I do not really need it all, but is that resigning?

and right before I was to publish this post, my pal Hedda, posted this blog. Cosmic Irony. I will have to ponder these rules and how they affect my "You can't have it all" feminism funk.