Lead Paint Perspective

This is my last lead-related post, I promise. Probably. But the past weeks of dealing with lead paint issues again has been interesting in terms of my response to the whole situation.

When Eleanor had an elevated lead level at her one-year check-up, I was so worried about her. I also spent a significant amount of time being neurotic about how it meant that I was a terrible mother who couldn't even keep her own child healthy. My therapist tells me I have a problem with "downplaying the positive" and I would say that's absolutely true when it comes to parenting. I take for granted anything I do well, as something surely all parents do, not even worth mentioning.

Instead, I focus on my shortcomings as a parent. I look at all of the times I get frustrated or tell her I can't play right now or give short answers like "Because I said so" instead of really addressing her questions about the world. It's so much easier for me to see what I'm doing wrong, instead of what I'm doing right. And the whole lead issue played right into that tendency of mine, and reinforced every negative comment I had ever told myself about my ability to be an effective, loving mother.

It took me a long time to get over that, and to not be so completely ashamed that my daughter had an elevated lead level, when almost no other parents we spend time with had an issue with it. The biggest problem with lead, in a neurotic sense, is that the effects are not always immediate. So I can spend years watching and waiting, attributing any of her possible shortcomings in school or bad teen-aged behavior to being a side effect of the lead poisoning that I didn't prevent. It's all my fault.

But I did get over it and come to terms with the situation. We've done everything we could to resolve the situation, and now I don't spend too much time wondering about the long-term effects, if any, because there's nothing else to be done.

And then, of course, that whole Pandora's leaden box was opened again with this house painting situation. But I've been shocked—absolutely shocked!—at how well I've handled it. So much less neuroses the second time around! To be fair, I'm sure a lot of that has to do with 1) it all started with our neighbor's house, not ours, and 2) at this point, we don't know that Eleanor's lead levels are elevated again. We are hoping that we've done enough to prevent that; Eleanor and I both have doctor's appointments next week. So if either of us get tested and the results are high ... well, at that point I probably might as well call this blog "Lead Ledger" or something like that.

Let's all keep our fingers crossed that it doesn't happen, though. The other big difference between last time and this time is knowledge. Last time, we had no idea what was going on, what we should do next, or even where to go to get this crucial information. We kept running into dead ends, contacting people who never got back to us or couldn't (or wouldn't?) give us the information we needed ... we spent a lot of time getting absolutely nowhere. Meanwhile, during all the fruitless phone calls and misinformation, that loop of "You're a terrible parent!" kept playing in the back of my mind, and every time I was put on hold I had another opportunity to sit and visualize all of the ways my lack of knowledge and inability to protect my child was ruining her life, now and in the future. (Yes, yes I was a lot of fun to be around.)

This, out of all the factors, is what has changed the most between last time and this time. We called the EPA to report the contractors on a Wednesday. Over the weekend, Keith and I cleaned the house inside and out. On Tuesday, lead abatement contractors cleaned the outside of the house and declared it lead free. (Or as lead free as any place in an aging, inner-ring Cleveland suburb can be.) I went from total panic to near resolution in under a week. The main reason for that difference is that, this time, we had the knowledge. We knew what steps to take next, and how to handle things.

This may sound strange, but I've actually found this second experience to help get some closure on the first time. I can apologize to my younger, freaked-out self. I know that you did the best you could. I know that it wasn't all your fault. You tried so hard to prevent the problem, and then fix the problem as soon as it arose. It is okay to blame other people sometimes, because all of that responsibility really shouldn't have been on your shoulders. And look! This time, we handled it so much better. Well done.

Let's just hope there's not a next time.

Lead Paint: What Next?

Sorry it's been a whole week. I'm sure you've been waiting with bated breath! It's been pretty hectic around here.

Even while writing last week's blog, wondering what to do, I was already springing into action. As soon as I realized 1) what the contractors was doing was indeed against the law, and 2) that our neighbor wouldn't be held liable—only the contractors—I called the EPA to report the violation of the RRP rule.

I was pleasantly surprised to get the name and contact info for a specific person. Even more surprising, when I called the number she actually picked up! She told me what she would need in terms of documentation; I promised to send pictures and dutifully did so that night. (The picture above is of our neighbor's house and flower bed, which is directly next to our driveway, partly visible at the bottom of the image.) We tried to talk to our neighbor a few times that night, but he was out. Luckily, I caught him on his way to work the next morning and explained the whole situation.

He called his contractors, told them what was going on, and told them to stay away until the situation was resolved. Instead of doing that, they came over and "cleaned up," which involved using a leaf blower (totally illegal and just a really bad idea) and getting paint chips even more scattered throughout the yard. At this point I was so twitchy from silently putting up with them for nearly two weeks, I was gearing up to go outside and tell them myself to stop and just leave the premises. Luckily, I guess they felt like they'd cleaned enough because they stopped of their own accord before I got out there, and then it was blissfully quiet, at least for a little bit.

I called the lead abatement contractor that had done our siding and replaced many of our windows, with whom we were very pleased. He said that he could have a crew out by the following Tuesday (two days ago), and that our yard could be completely cleaned up in time for Eleanor's birthday party (two days hence). Hearing that was a huge relief, because clearly we couldn't have nearly a dozen kids over to play with the paint chips, but I had no idea where else we were going to go on such short notice.

After getting that sorted out, Keith and I talked about what else we ourselves would need to do. We decided that we needed to wipe down the hard surfaces outside (porches, yard furniture, Eleanor's outdoor toys) and clean inside, top to bottom: vacuuming, mopping, and wiping down EVERYTHING—including every single one of Eleanor's toys—to get rid of any potential lead dust. We'd tried to keep the windows closed while the contractors were working, but we couldn't be completely certain that we'd kept 100% of the lead dust out.

My parents very kindly took Eleanor all day Saturday so Keith and I could clean. By Sunday night, I think we'd finished nearly everything. Today, I'm vacuuming and mopping one more time, in case we tracked in any more lead dust from the yard before it was cleaned on Tuesday. We also changed the furnace filter and the contractor vacuumed out the air conditioner.

Oh, did I mention that we're hosting a birthday party with 30+ people on Saturday? And clearing out the former study, painting and furnishing it to be Eleanor's new big girl room, all at the same time? It's been a long week.

That's probably more detail than you needed, but there it is. I felt the need to list and catalog every single step we've taken to minimize the damage, in the hopes that talking about it will make it more effective, I think. I'd like to believe that we've done all we can; I hope it's enough.

The final test, literally, will be when Eleanor and I both go to doctor's appointments next week and get our lead levels checked. Hopefully, all this madness ends there. The contractors first came on Saturday, July 2. It's been a long month, and I'm looking forward to a laid-back August.

I do have to say, without the blog, I'm not sure what would have happened. I only started researching the latest changes in the lead laws because I was writing a rant blog about how frustrated and helpless I felt. If it hadn't been for blogging about it, I'm not sure I would have investigated what options I did have. So thanks to you all for reading and giving me a reason to write!

Clean-Up Time

I think part of what's held me back from blogging over the past week or so is that I've been casting around for positive, light-hearted topics to write about. But really, I'm in a pissy mood so I've given up on going for light and breezy. Just to warn you.

First of all, I'm feeling stressed. Why? Well, primarily because I'm me. Hi! Have we met? If we have, then you already know that I have the type of personality that gravitates towards Stress and Panic and Insane To Do Lists. Or even if we haven't met in person, reading a few of my blog entries should clue you in pretty quickly.

However, I have been working on these tendencies (and will continue to until the day I die, I'm sure. It's on my to-do list!). And there are other circumstances for the increased stress level. Eleanor's third birthday party is a week and a half away. So we're trying to buy presents, organize party details, and clean the house. Except we haven't really done any of that, because we've been focused on getting her new room (the former study/guest bedroom) ready at the same time. It's a lot.

But that's not all! And this is the part that's really bothering me. Our next-door neighbor, whose tan house is visible next to our driveway in the picture above, is getting his house painted. The paint has been peeling for awhile and it's long overdue and it will be great when it's done.

The part that really bothers me is that it is, of course, lead paint. His house was built the same year as ours, and I have no doubt there's lead paint all over the exterior. But see, he hasn't tested for lead paint so he doesn't know 100% for certain that there's existing lead paint.
Plus, no children under 6 or pregnant women live in the house—I guess the fact that we're two feet away from the offending exterior paint is completely irrelevant—so he and his contractors aren't required to follow any lead-safe practices in paint removal.

They've been scraping, sanding, power-washing his house for over a week now. Since July 4th weekend, I've been watching as lead paint chips, large and small, and lead paint dust (which is even worse) coat our house, side porch, yard, etc. Watching from inside the house, running our air conditioner with the windows closed on beautiful summer days.

Our neighbor is not a bad guy. He is actually quite a nice person, and a very considerate neighbor. He even scheduled the workers to start on a long weekend when he knew we were planning to be out of town, because he knows about all of our lead issues. I don't really think, as an individual homeowner, he should have to choose on his own to follow lead-safe practices that will cost him significantly more to get the job done.

I do blame the government. I haven't quite decided yet which branch. But I don't believe that homeowners who live 2 feet from a 2-year-old's driveway/play area should have the choice to release lead paint and dust all throughout the environment. Something is very wrong here. You're telling all consumers that lead paint is very dangerous to a young child's brain development, and as parents we need to spend more than $20k to make our home safe .... but 2 feet away, the same rules don't apply?

For a week and a half now, I've been watching with despair as lead paint chips and dust covers our property that we've spent so much money to have cleaned up and remediated. It makes me feel helpless to ensure a healthy life for my children in even the most basic way. If I can't keep a known hazard out of our immediate environment, what can I do?

In 2008, the EPA issued a "rule requiring the use of lead-safe practices," and it was due to start being enforced in April 2010. (I say "due to start" because I know there was push-back from contractors' associations and it's not clear to me if it's actually being enforced or not.) This required contractors who were disturbing more than 20 feet of exterior paint to follow lead-safe practices in "pre-1978 housing and child-occupied facilities." According to this, the government has just recently decided that the house next door to children and pregnant women does need to be treated the same way, with the same precautions. I can guarantee you that more than 20 feet of paint has been disturbed.

So now what?

I'm to That Point in Pregnancy

We were at Home Depot last week, and I was exhausted. (Was it this past week? One before? It's hard to know, since it feels like we spend part of every week there, lately.) Right at the beginning of July, I remembered that we had been telling Eleanor she'd move into her new Big Girl Room for her birthday. Yet her birthday was only a few weeks away, and we hadn't even started on getting her room ready. Not good. But anyway! That's a different post.

Just believe me when I say we were in Home Depot, again, and I was worn out. Keith and Eleanor were walking about 10 feet in front of me. Eleanor ran back to me so she could hand me something to carry (Thanks, sweetie!) and then she ran back to Keith. I felt like I had a glazed look in my eye, thinking of all the work to be done and how much I'd rather be in bed.

A store worker, relatively young black woman, looked at me and said, "So, when are you due?"

And that's when I officially passed That Point in the pregnancy. The point where I'm obviously pregnant, not just retaining water or still carrying baby weight from 3 years ago. The point where strangers feel free to ask and comment. Last week was the first time it happened, and then it happened again this morning when I went to the campus cafeteria for a muffin.

This is one of my biggest problems with pregnancy. I mean, I'm not a fan of nausea, heart burn, weight gain in general ... we all know there's a lot of physical discomforts. But what discomforts me more is the public side of it. Generally, I'm a very private person. It's very difficult for me to accept that this major event in my life, and the state of my body, has now become a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation with complete strangers.

I know they mean well. People are excited to ask about it; they are smiling, thinking of their own children or grandchildren or nieces and nephews. Is it weird that I still find it a little invasive?

(The belly pic is from my pregnancy with Eleanor, at 6.5 months which is what I'm at now. I haven't done nearly as good with the belly pictures this time around, although I'd have to guess my 6.5 month picture for #2 would be a lot bigger!)

Photo Challenge: Nighttime

This week's Shutterboo Weekly Photo Challenge word is "Nighttime." Thinking about nighttime in the summer reminds of schedules in general. Or the complete lack thereof. Does any other parents out there get frustrated at how impossible it is to get the kids to bed on time in the summer, or is that just me?

The weekends are always a mess from May through August. Between vacations and camping and birthday parties and picnics ... if we get Eleanor one good nap and to bed within an hour of her bedtime on a summer weekend, we're doing great.

But oftentimes it seems like weeknights are just as bad. It's the damn sunlight! It can be something as simple as walking down the street, enjoying the weather, and talking with neighbors. We haven't really "gone" anywhere or done much of anything, but suddenly we're a half hour behind schedule. Last night, Keith's work gave out tickets to the Zoo. From 6-9pm. Usually (in the colder months) we start bedtime routine at 6:45 and it's lights out at 7:30. Last night, we were not even out of the Zoo parking lot by 9pm, and that was just a random Wednesday night!

Of course, the crux of the problem is that we want to do these activities. We want to talk to our neighbors and go to the zoo and go camping. But I want to keep her on a somewhat normal schedule, to be a well-rested, happy child. Are these two goals completely incompatible in the summer? It often feels that way.

At least, when Keith took the picture above, he was on his own. Eleanor was in bed, asleep, and I was on the couch, thinking about how I should be asleep as well. I love summer. But it's hectic and chaotic and by mid-August when we've had (at least this summer) ONE weekend with no plans since the beginning of May .... I'm longing for the shorter days, cooler winds, and relatively calmer days of Fall. Of course, ask me what's more frustrating in the middle of February when we're all tired of the snow and cold and being cooped up, and I'll laugh at myself for being so whiney about all our summer plans!

Toddler Inertia

I'd meant to blog about this topic with all of the other vacation posts, but didn't quite get around to it. And that's okay, because it's equally as applicable to everyday life: toddler inertia.*

I guess it stuck out to me on vacation, however, because I wasn't really expecting it. I mean, who argues when someone says, "Let's go build (and destroy) sand castles at the beach!" The correct answer, of course, is that Eleanor does. At length, and at great volume, and with various kicks and pouts.

It's one thing when she does it at home. It has become so hard to get her out of the house. Even to do something (pick out new library books, go to the playground, visit friends down the street, etc.) that she said she wanted to do 2 minutes ago. But when it comes down to actual movement, she balks. She stalls. She doesn't want to stop doing whatever it is she's doing at that very moment. Even if she's just playing with a piece of cardboard. Or, as she was the other morning, carrying around a raw baking potato so she could do a "potato dance."

(The key, Eleanor informed me, is that in a potato dance you just jump straight up and down. There is no forward leaping in a potato dance.)

If she's wearing a nightgown, she won't put on clothes. If she's in the living room, she doesn't want to play in the attic playroom. If she's reading books in her room, she doesn't want to go downstairs, even if it's already 9:30am and she hasn't eaten breakfast yet.

I suppose, if I were trying to put a positive spin on it, I could talk about how this shows that she is living in the moment, not always looking to the past or the future. She has embraced the Now so fully that she can't think or do past this very moment. She's already a Zen master and she's not even 3!

Except, I don't really think that's true. I think she's stubborn. Which is why she'll fight to stay put, no matter how boring her current activity and how exciting the proffered one. That is what I learned on vacation. It's not just that she doesn't want to do boring, everyday activities like grocery shopping or doctor's appointments. She also doesn't want to do ... exactly what she wants to do?

A few months ago, I felt bad because I'd pretty much ignored her for the better part of a week while I frantically tried to prepare for the start of the summer semester. So, once my online class was under control, I told her that tomorrow was going to be an Eleanor/Mommy day and we could do whatever she wanted. What did she want to do?

After talking about a few different options, she eventually decided that she wanted me to run with her, in the jogging stroller, to a nearby playground where we could play and have a picnic snack outside. It sounded great to me! I made the mistake of getting excited about our plans. And then, the next morning, I couldn't get her out of the house. After wheedling and cajoling for over half an hour to get her to please put down the book she's already "read" a million times and participate in the activities she has chosen for herself, I gave up. We sat and read the books.

Obviously, sometimes I have to fight the inertia. If we need to be somewhere, I have to suck it up and drag her out the door somehow. But it's the other times, when activities are really optional, that I can't figure out what to do. Won't she be glad, in the end, if we go? Is it really worth the fight? Doesn't she need new people and activities? Or should I just give in and, in situations where it doesn't matter, just do what she wants to at that moment? Even if it is her fifth tuber twirl?

Right now, I think I probably split it down the middle. Sometimes I stand my ground and force her to have fun, dammit. And sometimes, when I'm really tired and it's been a long week, I just sigh and throw my hands up and hand over the potato. No forward progress for that day, just jumping in place.

* For the record, Keith and I disagree about who first coined the term "inertia" for Eleanor's behavior. Because it's such an apt term, we both think it's ours. Of course, I'm the one with the blog, so I think in the end, I'll get credit:) But to be fair, I thought I should mention the disputed ownership.

Vacation Exercise

Our plan all along for this vacation was to "do" as little as possible. Beach, pool, reading/napping at the beachhouse, repeat. This was all fine and good, except Eleanor and I both have incredibly fair skin. By the middle of the week, even with constant, if somewhat haphazard, sunscreen application, we were both getting a bit crispy. So we decided to spend a day away from the water, out of direct sun.

We went to the Currituck Beach Lighthouse, which was just a short drive from where we were staying. I think the Currituck lighthouse is one of the smaller ones in the Outer Banks, but it's still nothing to sneeze at: 214 curving metal steps, up about 150 feet.

Added to that, Eleanor wore me out before we even set foot in the lighthouse. There was a short, slow-moving line waiting for the privilege to climb all those steps. While the rest of our group waited in line, Eleanor felt the need to run. She and I ran back and forth across a grassy patch, racing from one tree back to Grandpa's legs (and one unsuspecting guy whom Eleanor mistook for Grandpa) back to another tree, back to Daddy's legs .... she couldn't get enough. Clearly, from the above picture taken before the climb, I could get enough.

Finally our group was at the front of the line. This is the point where we explained to Eleanor that Mommy can only carry one child up 200+ steps, and that was the child in my belly. Eleanor would be sticking with Daddy for this adventure.

And of course, when I'm off the hook, she doesn't even get carried! She told us that she was going to climb the steps by herself, and that's exactly what she did. Every. Single. One.

Yet, when we finally reach the top, I'm actually not a big fan of heights. The lighthouse didn't seem that intimidating from the group, but the view from the top was still dizzying to me. Especially knowing that my 2-year-old was wandering around, sticking her head between the bars. Luckily, Eleanor actually felt the same way about being up there, so she and I headed down together while Keith hung out and took some pictures.

And of course, when I was in charge of Eleanor on the way down, suddenly she was tired and wanted to be carried. I tried carrying her down one flight of the stairs, but they were an open metal staircase and between my inherent pregnant off-balance and carrying Eleanor, I was convinced I was going to trip and throw her over the railing to her death. By the bottom of one small flight, I was practically hyperventilating.

Keith came to the rescue and carried her down the rest of the stairs. Between the running and the climbing and the panicking, I think it was the most exercise I got the whole week. I enjoyed a bit of sightseeing, but I was also happy to go back to the beach/nap/pool routine, too.

Vacation Kids' Clothes

When packing for vacation, we bought several sets of matching shorts and t-shirts for Eleanor. Most of her clothes are hand-me-downs, purchased second-hand, or bought by doting grandparents. T-shirts and shorts must suffer significant wear and tear at the hands (and knees) of toddlers, because for the past two years, when I get out the latest crop of used clothing, there's a dearth of these items in the pile. Add that to the fact that most of the grandparent-given clothes are adorable dresses, and you can understand why we had almost no shorts/t-shirts on hand.

What I failed to appreciate during this shopping spree is Eleanor's total disdain for shorts. This girl adores dresses and absolutely refuses to wear shorts. I thought she might be swayed while on vacation—everyone dressed down on vacation, right?—but that was not the case. Even her bathing suit had to resemble a ballerina's tutu instead of simply a bathing suit.


Here's just a few pictures of the dresses she wore throughout the week. By the end of the week, it was very clear what her main souvenir must be: a brand new beach dress. She loves it.

Since returning from vacation, we have convinced her (with much cajoling) to wear shorts on a few occasions, when we were hiking and camping. It's the opposite of my adult life, when I need a really good reason to bother with wearing a dress.

Why does it matter to me so much that she be willing to wear shorts? I don't really know. Most of the time, I don't care. Last week she wore her entire ballet outfit (tutu, tights, and ballet slippers) to music class with my blessing. Coincidentally, that's also the outfit she wore to meet Grandma Helen and Grandpa Chuck at an Art Museum outing a few months ago. She wears her two fancy Easter dresses to go to the playground or to the store.


I can't speak for Keith, but I think I pushed for shorts so much while on vacation because I want Eleanor to be better than I am at going with the flow. I am awful at wanting/needing to stick to my original plans or else. Many of you may already have noticed this tendency. I embrace Eleanor's love of dresses, and I hope she holds onto this preference; she really does look adorable in all of them. But I also would like her to realize that shorts are not the enemy, and if her five favorite dresses are all dirty at the same time (which is more likely than someone who is not the parent of a toddler might think, due to the various viscous substances of our days such as spilled milk, pee, mud, paint, and more), I want her to be able to throw on a pair of shorts without it ruining her whole day. And then she can go back to the dresses tomorrow ... as long as doing a load of laundry was part of Mommy's plan for the day.

Vacation Maternity Clothes

I knew that, going on a week-long beach vacation at 5 months pregnant, I would have to break down and buy a maternity bathing suit. With Eleanor, I just avoided it. We don't do much swimming and I wasn't feeling more motivated to swim when I was super pregnant, so I just didn't.

That wasn't an option this time around. Even so, I put off buying one as long as I could. And then, of course, it was a disaster. Target carries maternity bathing suits, in theory, but in reality it was already almost mid-June and the stock was seriously depleted. There were a few where I liked the tankini top, but the bottoms just didn't exist. I don't understand. Where are all these women who bought bathing suit bottoms and not tops?!? And at the Target near my house, the maternity clothes are all mixed in with the plus sizes, which pisses me off. I'm gaining this weight for a specific reason, in a very specific part of my body. I'm pregnant, not fat! So I'd find a suit that I thought might work, but then it was plus-sized instead of maternity, and I'd put it back because I knew it wouldn't fit.

After that, I went to two other stores (Old Navy with a Maternity section—very hard to find— and Kohl's) neither of which sold maternity suits. It was Saturday afternoon, and we'd be leaving the following Friday. So I just bought a roomy tankini from Kohl's, a few sizes too big, and called it a day.

You notice that the posted picture is NOT of me in the maternity suit? It didn't work out that well. I had to put sunblock on my belly because the top kept riding up and exposing my belly button.

All of the other maternity clothes I got for the trip were cute. I especially like the flowy, navy blue-and-white striped sundress that is comfortable yet attractive. I've been wearing the rest of the clothes all the time since we got back. But the maternity bathing suit has been pushed into the back of a drawer, only to come out on very rare occasions.

Vacation Destructor

We've been back from vacation for just over a week now, but I guess my brain has a hard time catching up, because I'm just now blogging about it. And somehow, that short time lag is enough for me to get very nostalgic. Wasn't it great, that time we rented a beach house in the Outer Banks with Keith's extended family?!? That was probably the best vacation we've ever had! It was all sunshine and laughter, and nothing ever went wrong! Eleanor cooperated by always eating what we served, going to the beach or pool without a fight, cheerfully napping on schedule, and she definitely did NOT puke in the car on the way home.

That's not to say the vacation was the complete opposite of perfection. It really was one of the best vacations we've had. BUT we all still had our trying moments, because this is real life, and I find it fascinating how my memory refuses to remember those parts of vacation. Even only a week in the past, the minor irritations and disagreements are like footprints in the sand, being washed away by the tide ....

So anyway, that's not even the main point of my post. Or I guess the main point could fit under the general vacation theme of: Didn't See That Coming. We took a ton of beach toys, and were very excited to build elaborate sand castles with Eleanor. I mean, I understand she's only 2.9 years old, so these weren't going to be works of art. But I thought it would be fun to spend a lot of beach time digging in the sand and using our imagination, instead of always being in the water or sleeping/reading on a beach towel and not paying much attention to the beach itself. We didn't do many beachy vacations when I was a kid, so I didn't have much of a sand castle building phase. I was looking forward to reliving the youth I didn't have.

If any of you have thoughts like these about your toddler, be forewarned: They don't care about the castles. Only about destruction. To Eleanor, the very best thing about sand castles—sand anything—was destroying it. She didn't like the big waves, and she had no interest in building the castles and decorating them with seashells. But the minute I had put together a decent group of building, BAM!, Destructor arrived. With a gleeful grin, she would push, kick, and render obsolete anything we had built.

The mother in me was very happy to see her having such a good time. But the 7-year-old child in me pouted a little bit. After the first morning, I quickly set aside any dreams of careful building and focused on quantity over quality. Then I didn't mind so much when she effectively razed the ephemeral structures mere moments after their erection. She wasn't a good builder, but was an amazingly efficient Destructor, our little cherub!

Heading Back from Vacation

Continuing on with the email theme this week, we're currently driving back 12 hours from our beach vacation. We spent last week in the Outer Banks, sharing a beach house with Keith's extended family. You can expect lots of pictures and stories next week. I've been kind of paranoid about talking about it while it's been going on, because I read somewhere that it's a bad idea to go on Facebook and say, "I'm going to be away from home for two weeks! Someone could break in and steal all my stuff and I'd have no idea!" So instead, somehow this week I've been focused on email, and I'll relive our vacation next week. In the meantime, enjoy Keith's Shutterboo Weekly Photo Challenge entry for this week's topic of "shadow." You'll notice a theme with his sister's photo:


And our sister-in-law's as well.

Speaking of email, this is the first time I've ever been so "connected" while on vacation. Usually, I'm a big fan of leaving the phone, computer, etc. at home and really getting a break from everything. This time, however, since I'm teaching an online class, that wasn't really an option. Instead, from day one, I've set up my desk away from home in this little kitchen nook and have been checking my email and keeping up with my class every day. I've gone from being anti-technology on vacation to being on the fence. I really like that I've been cleaning out my inbox and replying to messages throughout the week. This means that we won't get home at the end of a long drive, only to collapse on the couch and be confronted with an avalanche of emails&mash;ones I care about and many I don't—that I'll have to sort through. That's a nice feeling.

Add that to the fact that our beach house has a washer and dryer, and we're going to wash as many clothes as possible before the trip back so that's not a massive task when we arrive at home. I'm sure our return will be totally stress-free and the vacation will continue, right? Right?!?

Mistaken Email Identity

Speaking of email, there's another post I've been meaning to write about email. Keith's email address is a Google account, and it's just his first initial and last name. He's had it since we got married almost 7 years ago.

In the past couple years, however, he's started getting emails meant for other people. Two different women with the same first initial and last name. The first woman kept incorrectly putting in her own email address. So Keith got her airline ticket reservations confirmation email, for example, and some other communications that she might want to see. He tracked her down and forwarded the emails and gently suggested she learn how to type, and I don't think he's gotten anything else from her in a while.

Now there's a new woman on the scene. And we've learned that she is the grown daughter of a very prominent, national political figure. How do we know his? Because, of course, Keith has been getting all sorts of emails meant for her. Emails about planning fundraisers and other events, asking direct questions that need answers. My understanding is that it's not so much the woman's fault as that her cohorts can't be bothered to doublecheck the email address. The first few times it happened, Keith responded to the offender and told them, "I'm not her," but this time, it hasn't gone away. He just keeps getting more emails, including a couple from the prominent political figure himself. There's a tentative fundraising event on his Google calendar, from a mistaken email.

This is so weird for many reasons. First, why are so many people getting her email address wrong? I've never gotten any misdirected, personal emails like this. Now it happens to Keith twice?!?

Plus, if this woman is working as a full-time fundraiser for her father, why is she using her Gmail for all of this official email, anyway? Why are they sending anything to her Gmail in the first place? I'm pretty sure that she's the Director of some nonprofit related to her father's career .... so why is she using Gmail? There's a lot I like about Gmail for my personal account, but I still use my work account for work-related emails.

And finally, why do these people not notice that she's never replying to them? Or sometimes, her real email is on the CC list, as well as Keith's. So now that he's been included on a certain number of emails, are people thinking he needs to be kept in the loop and are intentionally emailing him directly?!?

If you see him mentioned by pundits as a major player in the upcoming Presidential campaign, you'll know why!

Do You Believe in Inbox Zero?

Why is it that there seems to be two distinct email personalities? And how much does the way a person deals with the email inbox translate to the rest of her life?

I myself am always striving for (but falling short of) Inbox Zero, as described in Getting Things Done. If an email is in my inbox, that means I need to do something about it. Therefore, whenever there's more than 10 emails in my inbox (a totally arbitrary number), it stresses me out. And once it gets upward of 20, the weight of the unreplied-to emails, and the related tasks they entail, hangs heavy on my shoulders. For example even though there's a million things to do to get ready for a trip, I still prioritize emptying my email inbox so I don't waste my vacation time worrying about it. I also archive my old emails very specifically. My Gmail has over 60 labels. When using Outlook, I have folders and subfolders. There's a place for everything, and everything in its place. As soon as possible!

So that's me. On the flipside, there's the inbox red giant contingent. They allow emails to accumulate in their inboxes until it expands to 250 times its normal size. Read emails, unread emails, important emails, junk .. it's all there, sitting in the inbox. They don't use folders or labels to move their emails out of their inboxes or keep track of them in any way. Or, if forced, they might have one or two folders called "2011" or "old emails" and throw everything into there.

Why do we have such disparate views on email maintenance? And can it be translated into other facets of our lives? One might assume a direct correlation between email chaos and chaos at home or at work, but I don't think that's really so clear cut. Many of the closet owners of a red giant inbox have very neat and tidy homes and offices. So why does technological clutter bother some of us, but not others? Is there partly a sense that it's not real because it's just on the screen, so it can be ignored more easily?

As you might see from the blurry image, most of what's cluttering up my inbox at the moment are blog comments that I need to reply to. Excuse me while I take care of that, before they number more than 10! The horror!

Clean Closets ... Messy Kitchen

I hate how, anytime we try to do "Spring Cleaning," the process never gets completed. A couple months ago, when Keith's parents were visiting we took the opportunity to clean out our closet. (I know! Our lives are so exciting!)

This was when I was first switching over to maternity clothes, and there definitely was NOT room in the closet for all of the regular clothes that don't fit me or I never wear for whatever reason, plus the clothes that usually do fit me, plus the influx of maternity clothes. So all of the too-small, too-old clothes had to go.

It was great! I love cleaning out closets and getting rid of things. And then, actually being able to find clothes that find in the new, much sparser collection! These are all the things I like about a cleaning project.

The problem is, we never actually get around to taking the cast-offs to Goodwill. Is it really that hard? I'm sure it's not, and we're just making it out to be much harder than it should be. So for months, we've had garbage bags of clothes. First they were in the guest bedroom. Then they moved to the kitchen. Two of the 4 bags even made it to the trunk of the car ... and now they're in the garage, because that trunk space was needed.

PLUS, I used Keith's car the other week and stopped by the grocery store. I popped open the trunk to load in the groceries ..... and found that it was stuffed full of crap I had completely forgotten about. From the LAST time we'd cleaned out some items to take to Goodwill. I can't even tell you how long ago that was. I'm pretty sure it was pre-Eleanor, so at least 3 years ago.

This is now on the top of my to-do list for the summer. Clean out rooms ... and actually get rid of the stuff, instead of just sticking it somewhere else!

Kids Change You

Lately, in the back of my mind as I have "conversations" with Eleanor, I keep thinking, "Before having a child, I never in a million years would have thought these words would be coming out of my mouth."

Gems like:

• "How many times have I told you?!? Stop licking the window!"
• "Eleanor, stop. That is private, and Strawberry does not belong in a private place." (As Eleanor shoves her little Strawberry Shortcake doll down my shirt and into my bra.)

And many, many more....

After Hours

As a parent, I made a grave tactical error the other night.

Eleanor has been sleeping in the big girl bed (crib converted to toddler bed) since Christmas time. In the past few months, she's also convinced us to leave the door open at night so she can get out of bed and go to the bathroom. To be fair, overall the ratio of bathroom trips to unnecessary, putting-off-bed trips has so far been in favor of actual bathroom usage.

However, lately the unnecessary trips have been increasing, and we've spent more times going upstairs and sternly sending her back to bed. I've spent a lot of time trying to convince her that we are really, really, really boring after she goes to bed. We don't talk about anything exciting, or watch Sesame Street, or eat ice cream and popsicles. (Those last two do happen, but don't tell her.) "Honestly," I say, "most of the time we just fall asleep on the couch. You're not missing out on anything!" Yet she remains a skeptic.

This Friday, we're leaving for a week-long beach vacation with Keith's extended family in the Outer Banks. The plan is to leave late on Friday and drive through the night. I'm confident that part 1 of the plan (leaving and driving) will happen. I'm not so confident that part 2—Eleanor sleeps most of the way—will. That's the hope, but of course we're preparing an entertainment extravaganza, should it be needed. Lots of books and toys, and particularly books with accompanying audio CDs. She's been big into those lately, which has been fantastic because I can't read in the car for more than 5 words before I get carsick. Eleanor thinks this is a lame excuse, and complains about my ineptitude quite often on any car trip longer than 15 minutes when I'm not driving. Because if I'm not driving, my job is to entertain her. And if I can't read in the car? FAIL.

So, I've also decided to take some of her favorite books and record myself reading the stories, and load the recordings onto the iPod. Brilliant! So I can "read" during the trip, while simultaneously sleeping and avoiding car sickness. A good idea, poorly executed. I decided to try this out the other night, mere minutes after I put her to bed. The inevitable result? She pitter patters to the top of the stairs, and hears me reading fairy tales out loud after she's already in bed. She always KNEW we did fun things after she was in bed, and now she had proof!

I heard Eleanor gasp from the top of the stairs, and could picture her flapping her hands (Eleanor's preferred body language for Excited!) and then she thundered down the stairs. I stopped recording long enough to get her settled on the couch next to me and tell her to be quiet and she was going right to bed after this story. To top it off, my computer froze in the middle of the recording so I lost everything I had done AND I still had to finish the story and send her back up to bed. I tried to explain that I don't really read her stories every night after she goes to bed, but there's no way that she believed me.

And then hours later, when I was absolutely certain she (and Keith) were asleep, I opened to the first page of The Cat in the Hat and whispered to myself,

"The sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house
All that cold, cold wet day..."

Hunkered down in the virtual classroom

Okay, so I've made it through my first week of online teaching. I was feeling pretty good on Thursday morning. Tired, from many late nights on the computer, but good. I was through with the initial launching of the class phase, and should be into the regular maintenance phase. The workload would become so much more reasonable!

By Thursday night, my feelings of well-being had worn off. We're going on vacation this Friday to the Outer Banks for a week. This will be wonderful, and I'm really looking forward to it ... except last Thursday night, I sat down and took a look at all of the assignments, lectures, quizzes, etc. that I'll have to prepare before we leave. It's even worse than my original To Do list. It was so depressing.

I feel like I'm getting a glimpse of why online classes, particularly during the summer, can be a very bad idea for students. They like the idea of fitting in class on their schedule, around all of their other activities. But do they (or I!) realize how much work it entails when we're unwilling to spend time in the classroom. When we insist on fitting in class around everything else that we'd rather be doing, or need to be doing, it will most likely necessitate late nights and long, working weekends.

I'm going to be fine. I'll complain a lot about how tough my life is, and how much work I have to do, but I will get it done. I'm sure that some of my students will, too. And I'm just as certain that some of them won't. I already have 4 students who have never signed in to the class (keeping in mind that we've already completed 3 assignments, and 1 of 10 weeks in the class). Two others have signed in once, but not actually completed any work. I'm sure there's a few others who may be involved now, but will drop off as the reading and writing piles up and there's so many other activities going on.

Or maybe the students will be like me, and keep fooling themselves into thinking that it's going to get easier any minute. I told myself it would get easier after the class started, and that didn't quite come to pass. But now I'm convinced that, once this week is over and we're on vacation, it will get better. By the end of this week I'll have 5 of the 10 weeks completely finished. And, of the remaining 5 weeks, 3 will be focused on a novel that I've taught in the past and have a lot of material for. So it will all be a breeze for the second half of the semester, right? Right. Let's stick with that, for now!

Entering the Virtual Classroom

Today is my first day in the virtual classroom, teaching College Composition online. So far, I'm not liking it.

Other professors who have experience teaching online had warned me that a significant portion of the prep work needs to be completed before the semester begins, as opposed to addressing issues all throughout the class. The reason for this is twofold:
1) It's not going to come up in class. Any questions students might have about your writing expectations, how to find information on the site, what the goals are for the class ... these need to be clearly spelled out, in writing, from day one so that students feel comfortable (as much as they can), and like they know what they're getting themselves into. As a professor, I need to try and anticipate students' concerns and address them upfront.

Similarly, I need to provide samples of writing. When I say, "You need to write a comprehensive discussion board post for full credit," what does that even mean?!? As a student, I wouldn't have known how to interpret that. Therefore, since I won't be modeling the behavior during class, I need to demonstrate what I'm looking for before they even start the assignment, so they know what they're working towards.

2) To my mind, it's reasonable to assume that online students are busy people. I think there's a misconception of online students trying to "get away" with less work or less time spent in class. I'm sure that describes some of the online students, but the majority of students I've met who are taking online classes are doing so because they need to fit the classes into their schedules somehow. And between work, family, often second jobs, etc., online is their best option. Many of them say they wish they could be attending class in person, because it's easier to learn and collaborate and it also takes some of the responsibility off their shoulders in terms of remembering assignments and due dates. Showing up to a lecture is a lot easier than figuring out the material for yourself, I think.

So anyway, if you agree with they assumption that online students are busy, then you might also agree with me (and my more experienced contacts) that it's important to give online students longer deadlines, so they can fit in the readings and assignments around everything else. When planning my traditional classes and it went down to the wire (as it usually did), I knew that, at the very least, all I really needed to have is a lesson plan for the first day. Which isn't even a lesson plan; it's going over the syllabus and expectations. Instead, for the online course, I'm trying to have the first two weeks of lectures completed (as narrated PowerPoint presentations, which are taking me forever), as well as the first two weeks of assignments, quizzes and any other activities.

Point being, it's the first day of class and I'm really tired. I've only been getting 5-6 hours of sleep a night for the past week, once I started to realize there was no way I would finish all of this in time. I just barely got up the first lecture (plus a nearly hour-long Intro presentation that I hadn't even thought about before, introducing students to the class and the site). I'm hoping to have Week Two's lesson up by tomorrow, so that I can get on a regular schedule of having the Week 3 lesson posted the first day of Week 2. And now that the class has started, the grading will become a factor, too!

I have been assured that, once the online semester starts and class is moving along, it actually becomes much more manageable. I'm clinging onto this hope, because I definitely need the workload to lighten up a bit. Or else this isn't going to be much of a summer!

Photo Challenge: Anger

I personally thought "anger" was a tough Photo Challenge.Every time over the past week, when Keith asked for ideas, I just shrugged. As with some of the other prompts, the word felt very personal. Keith said his half-marathon finish time makes him angry. I said that a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes made me angry. (Didn't I just clean the kitchen, like, 5 minutes ago?!?) But it didn't really seem like the anger would come across. Traffic and dealing with idiot drivers always makes me angry, but he can't really have the camera out and shooting the entire drive to work. I mean, I'm sure people do it, but it's probably not the best idea.

So at 8 o'clock Tuesday night, still with no picture, Keith went outside to get some pictures of our backyard. I know I've been complaining about the weather a lot this Spring, but it has seriously been awful. I heard on the radio last week that this has been the rainiest year so far in over 50 years. And it's not just that there's been a lot of rain; it's been spread out so that it's been raining almost every day since mid-March.

Hence, the state of our grass. It's insane. Keith's cut the front grass a few times, but it's been too swampy to cut the back. Plus the backyard is Beckett's squirrel stalking grounds, so it's tall grass intermingled with doggy dirt paths. Very attractive!

This past weekend, Keith finally attempted to cut the backyard .... and the lawnmower broke. Oh, and rain is forecast all this week.

That frustration—plus the annoying fact that neither of us are particularly concerned about having a fantastically manicured lawn, yet there's still a fair amount of effort required just to keep it looking a mite better than constant shagginess—is what Keith was trying to convey with the picture. But I don't really feel like all that anger really came across. He tried taking a few pictures with the lawnmower on it's side, showing the broken part, but I don't know enough about lawnmowers for that picture to even make sense. The first comment he got was, essentially, "Where's the anger?" A few of the other commenters, who live in the rain-soaked region, did identify with the anger and frustration of the situation, but only because they're also living it.

I think, for me, it's a lesson that not ALL pictures have to be universally understood. Maybe you do just need to pick something that makes YOU really, really angry and take a good photo of it. It might inspire anger in others ... or they may just like the composition and find it peaceful and soothing.

10k Playlist 2011 version

Some people don't need music to motivate themselves to run—particularly 2-year-olds. It's not always music, but I typically want some kind of motivation or distraction along with me, so I'm not constantly thinking about how far I've run, how out of shape I feel, how hard it is to breathe ..... Sometimes it's music, or podcasts, or audiobooks, or the dog. Just something to take my mind off the momentary pain, so I have a better chance of arriving at home feeling somewhat refreshed and glad I ran, instead of just tired.

Here's the music playlist I used while occasionally training for the 5k. I know I call it a 10k playlist; that's just because it's long enough that it could probably get you through a 10k. Some are old songs that have appeared on many of my old playlists, but some are new favorites. All of the links are to the albums at Amazon.

1. "How You Like Me Now" by The Heavy
2. "Percussion Gun" by White Rabbits
3. "Little Lion Man" Mumford & Sons
4. "The Charm" by Maps & Atlases
5. "Kick Drum Heart" by The Avett Brothers
6. "River, Sea, Ocean" by Badly Drawn Boy (This song is on pretty much every running list I have. This whole album, the About a Boy soundtrack, is fantastic for running, I think.)
7. "Tighten Up" by The Black Keys
8. "Winter 'o5" by Ra Ra Riot (This song is actually a little slow and melancholy for running, but I wanted a Ra Ra Riot song.)
9. "Pressure Point" by The Zutons
10. "Get Over It" by OK Go
11. "Flathead" by The Fratellis
12. "Ready to Start" by Arcade Fire
13. "Eight Days a Week" by the Beatles
14. "Hands Open" by Snow Patrol
15. "Need You Around" by The Smoking Popes
16. "The High Road" by Broken Bells
17. "Glamorous Glowing" by Cast Spells
18. "The Rockafeller Skank" by Fatboy Slim
19. "Bicycle vs. Car" by Bob Schneider
20. "Anna Sun" by Walk the Moon
21. "Writing to Reach You" by Travis
22. "Rolling in the Deep" Adele
    

Plagiarism Top 10

I think I briefly mentioned it in passing before, but the Spring semester is over! Finals were last week, and I have a mere two weeks before Summer session starts. (Well, just over one week now.)

Final papers this semester were pretty atrocious, overall. Individual students were fine, but in both my classes I had wayyy too many obviously plagiarized papers. For anyone who's wondering, here's a few ways to tell that a paper is plagiarized.

For example, a C student who relies on words like "things" and "stuff" turns in an essay that starts, "Mary Shelley was cleverly inspired by the theme of an uncontrollable creature wreaking vengeful destruction upon the heads of his monomaniacal scientific creator and his world is sustained in a way that makes the book a powerfully unique presence in English literature." This is a dead giveaway for several reasons:

1. The last name Shelley is spelled correctly. The majority of the time, the Frankenstein papers, even though we've been studying the book for several weeks, refer to the author (Mary Shelley) as Shelly, Shelby, or something else just off enough to show they don't really care.
2. Not only was "wreaking" used correctly in the sentence, but it was also spelled correctly.
3. This sentence is quite long, but it's still grammatically correct. For most of my students (the ones who are in the position of plagiarizing their final papers, anyway), there is no way that a sentence this long wouldn't be a run-on or have random commas or a complete lack of parallelism between parts of the sentence.
4. Frankenstein is English? Well, I'll be damned. I wonder if I asked the students, how many would give the correct answer to Mary Shelley/Shelly/Shelby's nationality?
   
5. Monomaniacal? You couldn't even change it to something a little less obvious?

Another giveaway is when the paper explains to me why Frankenstein is a good example of Gothic literature. Um, we didn't cover this AT ALL in class, and none of the assigned paper topics even come close to asking students to address this topic. So you usually can't even be bothered to show up for class, but now you're going to do extra research outside of class to identify the genre of the work?

Finally, when a student cites a source like Sparknotes or Free Essays.com in the Works Cited, but has never cited these sources within the essay. And yes, this has happened.

I'm not sure that two weeks is enough time for my end-of-the-semester cynicism to wear off.

Cleveland Marathon Events

As I mentioned the other day, we spent the weekend racing. Running and driving around to catch everyone in their various races.

It started Saturday morning, with my 5k race. Actually, back up a minute; it started on Friday afternoon when we went to the Cleveland Marathon Expo to pick up our race bibs and goodie bags. Until this year, the Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon is the only big marathon weekend event that we've participated in. Keith has run the half and the full marathon there several times, and I've done the 10k and marathon relay leg. We've always enjoyed the Pig and heard many good things about it; in contrast, we've heard some bad things about the Cleveland Marathon—that the organization isn't the best, and that there's not as many spectators, so the "event" feel isn't really there.

From the Expo, we were less than impressed. You had to know your bib number to pick up your stuff, instead of just going by last name. Who knows their bib number?!? I walked up to the desk and said, "I have no idea what my bib number is." They snootily sent me to a bank of computer around the corner, where there was a line to get to the 10 computers because NO ONE KNOWS THEIR BIB NUMBER. That's just dumb. It seems very convenient for the organizers, but incredibly inconvenient for the racers.

Right, so, back to Saturday morning. My race was at 8 o'clock. We were meeting my parents at the Browns stadium (start and end of the 5k) about 7:30. The night before, Keith and I had joked about what would happen if the storm knocked out our power overnight and our alarms didn't go off.

Fast forward to 6:45—15 minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off. That's right! We actually predicted the future and our power went out. The benefit of that is that we were so busy trying to get to the start line that I didn't have time to be nervous. I really didn't run enough leading up to the race—not enough runs, and not long enough runs. But I finally decided it didn't really matter. It didn't matter how fast (or slowly) I ran, or if I walked. I'm 4.5 months pregnant! All I would have to do is finish the race and it's a win.

So I signed up for the race, and nearly missed it. I didn't have time to be nervous, but I did have time for a weird high school moment. We were hurrying to the race, walking a few blocks behind this group of 2 guys and 1 woman. I ended up chatting with the woman when we ran to the bathroom before the start and found out that the two guys were from my high school, and they graduated a year before I did. I'm sure I hadn't seen them in 15 years, but as soon as she said the names, I recognized them. So weird!

As you'll notice, most of my race recap doesn't actually have anything to do with the race. Because that really wasn't the highlight. I felt good while I ran it, and I ran the whole time except for the water break midway. I sprinted at the end because I still had energy to spare .... and then saw my time. It was terrible. I kept telling myself that it didn't matter, but it was more than 11 minutes per mile. I found it pretty depressing.

So we're skipping ahead to the end of the race. The picture above is because, once my race was done and I found Keith and Eleanor and my parents, Eleanor was very excited about her race. She kept wanting to practice, so we ran back and forth across the field many, many times. I guess it was my cool-down.

Of course, when it was actually Eleanor's race time, she wasn't nearly as excited. She wanted a nap, was scared by all the kids and the clowns, and told me she wasn't going to run. But she was allowed to run while holding my hand so she did complete her 50-yard dash and get a medal, which she was very excited about.

Finally, Keith ran the half-marathon on Sunday morning. He wasn't happy with his time of 1:36, with the just awful pace of 7:23/mile. He was depressed for about a day, and then emailed me with his next half-marathon race.

I'm done racing until after the baby's born. So now I'm looking forward to not paying any attention to how slowly I run anymore. I won't time myself at all. I'll walk when I feel like it. And if I ever have any concerns about the fact that I may have been gone about about 40 minutes for a 2-mile run, I'll just attribute it to Beckett's 50 pee stops.

Happy running!

Finally! Spring Blog Update

Ever since I finally figured out how to easily personalize the look of my blog (to be fair, it's a LOT easier than it used to be last time I tried, I swear), I told myself I'd try to update it on a regular basis.

The first picture was very winter-oriented, so I figured I'd update it every season. How hard can it be to change it four times a year, right? Except, as I've complained about repeatedly of late, it won't stop raining! I wanted pictures of flowers and new life, but I feel like we're just drowning in day after day of gray, cold rain.

But finally I went back and used a picture Keith took of store-bought flowers my Mom had in her kitchen. For the past few weeks, I've also bought flowers at the grocery store. I need some color and brightness in my world! So if you usually check out the blog through a feed reader, go onto to the actual site for artificial Spring cheer.

Photo Challenge: Tracks

This week's Photo Challenge is Tracks. It seemed appropriate in that we spent the weekend running races all around Cleveland (more on that later). But actually, running the races made it very difficult for Keith to get any photo shoots in.

And it's STILL raining. This Spring has just been so cold and rainy .... this is the time of year that usually we're desperate to be outside, soaking in the sunshine, reveling in the feel of warm wind on skin. Instead, we're still cooped up inside, next to the fire, watching it rain. Again. Now my biggest fear is that it will switch from this cold, miserable weather straight into hot and humid, miserable weather. It's a very distinct possibility!

Anyway, so Keith stopped by some old railroad tracks today on his way home from work to get his "tracks" shot.



It's a very literal interpretation of the word, but I also think that it's unique, because how many people know of old, unused tracks that they can photograph so closely? Every week, he debates how literal to be with the inspiration word, and how to compose the picture. Sometimes he veers towards abstract, and other weeks he tends to create pictures that tell a story. One of the elements of his photography that I like is the versatility. He's open to trying so many new ways to compose and edit the shots that they all turn out very differently.

Speaking of other pictures, with the end of the semester, I never got around to posting about last week's Photo Challenge, which was Artificial. I think it does a pretty good job of speaking for itself!

Read! (part 2)

I thought the comments on my post about reading the other day were very interesting, and they brought up some corollary questions of my own.

RevJeremy pointed out, “Unfortunately for there isn't a well paying job that I know of that doesn't require the skills acquired through reading.” I don't know about the “unfortunately” part. I think communication is a good thing! But it is very unfortunate that it's so hard to get students to believe this, and to feel like it's worth investing any of their time in developing these skills. On the other hand, so many people with job experience say the same thing as Jeremy: You must be able to communicate effectively to be good at your job, no matter what that job is. You don't have to love writing just for the sake of writing. But you have to know how to get your ideas across and make sure everyone is on the same page.

If that's so important, and so many employers and employees agree, then why is it so hard to get students on board?

Jeremy also pointed out that I might be drawing a false conclusion, equating the bookstores closing with less reading. He suggests, “It could be a sign that the marketplace is changing and that expensive brick and mortar stores are downsizing because they no longer have the luxury of smashing out their smaller competitors because of their lack of a distribution network.” As a solution, he also offers the idea that “Maybe there is a niche to be filled here, a way to marry social media and literature.”

I think Jeremy brings up a very real shortcoming in my own argument: Do I think that reading only counts if it's ink on paper? What about online literary journals and newspapers and magazines? What about blogs?!? What about Tweets? Do those count?

This question relates to Steve's sympathetic comment, “It is sad that young people don't read. It's impacted the newspaper business. Circulation among the major dailies has dropped in many [cities] here in the USA. This leads to an uninformed citizenry. They have themselves to blame with the leaders they choose.” Can we automatically equate lower newspaper circulation with an uninformed citizenry? Or are those two distinct issues? I will be honest: I never buy newspapers. I get my news online or on the radio. Could I be better informed? Quite probably? Am I uninformed? I wouldn't go that far … but of course, who would be willing to admit to such a state?

A student just turned in a research paper last week about the pros and cons of social media. On the one hand, he said that research shows kids who use social media are more literate and better writers. On the other hand, they're more at risk for ADHD and other ill effects of too much screen time (lack of exercise, etc). So, which is more important?

When I encourage students (or anyone) to read … I have to be honest. I imagine browsing in a bookstore or library, picking out a book that catches my eye, and curling up on the couch with it. Beckett's snuggled at my feet, if I'm really lucky the cat is in my lap, and I'm turning pages, engrossed in the story.

But even though that's my ideal situation, that really isn't my focus. I'm not trying to make everyone read Books. But I do want everyone to see the pleasure of reading, particularly the mind-expanding joys of challenging reading. Reading articles or short stories or weighty tomes that make you really think. That make you re-examine your feelings about life, love, happiness, relationships, responsibility, and more. Texts that clarify your own thoughts, that help you know yourself better and be able to articulate your beliefs.

Literacy—reading and writing—should be about communication. It should be about enjoyment. It should be about provoking thought. My concern is that, right now, many of my students and others don't see literacy as doing any of these things. They just see it as an unwelcome, worthless chore. And that's what concerns me much more than the state of big chain bookstores or newspaper circulation.

Read!

The news of large bookstore chains selling off numerous stores (Barnes & Noble) or declaring bankruptcy (Borders) is, to me, only an expanding backdrop of what I see all the time on campus. My students don't read. They don't like to read, they don't think it's relevant to their lives, and they feel like people only do it because they're old and not really connected to social media.

Of course, this isn't applicable to every student. But it's true of enough of them to worry me.

On the other hand, in some circles, the popularity of the Twilight series and Harry Potter books is a cause for mockery. How could people read those?!? What happened to all the real books? With existential crises and true self-examination, following by meaningful epiphanies?

In my opinion, just Read! For the most part, I don't care what anyone is reading, as long as they're reading it. I even told my students (who were complaining about how incomprehensible they found Mary Shelley's Frankenstein), during grad school, I was either reading dense literary works and literary criticism .... or romance novels. There wasn't really a whole lot going on in between. When I wasn't required to really focus on and interpret these literary masterpieces, I just wanted some entertainment. Obviously I prefer books that are well-written, but that isn't always a requirement. I just wanted something that would be enjoyable to read, and I would know how it all is going to end, and if I miss a detail here or there, so what? It wasn't an intense, line-by-line breakdown of Shakespeare's tragedies, and it kept me happy.

But now, my students feel like the only things people read are Literature. And Literature is intimidating and hard and to be avoided at all costs. For the most part, they don't have any sense of reading for pleasure.

I have never really understood people who say that they don't like reading. What's not to like? The whole point of it is that you can pick ANYTHING and there will be many, many books about that topic. Just now, I did a keyword search at Amazon.com in the books section for "marmoset" and got 248 results. 138 titles were in the science section; one each in law, Manual of Animal Technology and romance, Nihilistic Foibles. (Sounds titillating!)

When we first met, Keith used to tell me that he was "not a reader." (And yet I'm married to him! Shocking!) Except he did change his mind. It came out that for Keith, like many, many people, he stopped enjoying reading once so much reading became assigned for homework that reading became a chore instead of a pleasure. I think he said it was around fifth or sixth grade. I kept encouraging him to give it another try—not very subtly, I'm sure—and now he probably has more books piled on his nightstand than I do. It was just a matter of finding out, as an adult, what types of reading he enjoyed and focusing on those.

I wish more children, from a very young age, were encouraged to see reading as a pleasurable, fun, independent activity related to their unique interests. Once they get to college, I feel like telling them "You have to read more!" goes in one ear and out the other. Unless their ears are filled with earbuds, in which case it never goes in at all. By the time I see them, they see reading as an archaic activity that's completely out-of-sync with their social media, tech-driven, multi-tasking lifestyles. And I don't know what it would take to convince them otherwise.

If I could assign them readings that they would all enjoy, would that help? But that's not an option; my whole point is that it's about individual taste. But when I generally tell them, "Trust me! You'll like it!" that doesn't matter.

I guess I'm not really sure which bothers me more: people who claim to not like reading, or people who choose to look down on certain reading material, instead of just being happy that kids are reading at all. Both attitudes are a serious cause for concern about the literacy of our society, and reading's future as an enjoyed, beloved pastime of the majority.

Photo Challenge: Red

Thank goodness for these weekly photo challenges! Some weeks, I have a really hard time blogging. The timeliness of the photo challenges forces me to write something, which always helps with the writer's block. It's a reminder that the hardest part is getting started, so just sit down and do it already!

I've also decided, when dithering over what to write about the photo challenge picture, that I need to stop even trying to address the technical aspects of it. If you want to know how these images are composed and manipulated, mention something in the comments and I'll pressure Keith into adding his own very technical explanation paragraph. But I don't really have any part in that, so I can really just speak to the thoughts and emotions inspired by the pictures.

First of all, on that note, these are actually Eleanor's rain boots and coat from last year. They're too small for her (see the sleeves?), but Keith broke them out just for this picture. Because how much cuter is a picture with her in it, instead of just the accessories? He also had to create the puddle, even thought it's been raining here for what seems like weeks on end. For a few hours on Monday evening, the puddles had dried up. So Keith and Eleanor trooped outside, armed with a pitcher of water to make their own puddle. And—bonus!—not as many worries about how dirty the water is.

This Spring has been very rainy and cold, so I'm very glad that Eleanor enjoys splashing in puddles. And don't worry—she has new rain boots and a jacket!