I'm now in the stage of pregnancy that can be most aptly likened to the final leg of a marathon, an event that I am more familiar with as a former high school athlete and enthusiastic (if not so talented) recreational runner. My physical and emotional resources are exhausted. I greet each day with an ever-weakening resolve. As my sister-in-law mentioned to my husband once, "I just need this kid to be born."
While none of my present conditions are in any way novel (thank goodness), I must acknowledge my daughter-to-be's unconscious sense of filial piety. Crawling onto my soapbox, I must proclaim to all that we academics are 1) not as lazy as we may seem, 2) but are in fact, always working. Since I started my Master's degree in 2000, I have not actually taken a complete day off from work (yes, that includes periods of family-mandated vacations, wedding, and all) aside from three episodes of medical emergencies. Whether reading, writing, grading, managing administrative tasks, or doing the myriad of other things that academics must do (so to correct another myth, we do have set responsibilities -- it's not just a buffet of self-selected activities), my mind has been married to the academy for about thirteen years.
So it amazes me that I will be compelled to not only vacate the office for a set period of time but that I am already feeling the literal and figurative weight of shifting my energies in a different direction. The customary symptoms of pregnancy brain and weight gain have slowed me down, physically and mentally, in considerable measure. I have learned to take hour-long breaks between two-hour work periods just so I can catch my breath, store up enough oxygen, and firm up my back. I have to wake up as soon as I feel able so I can maximize my day, and stretch my concentration to reach the endpoint which is becoming ever earlier, from 1am to 12:30am, and I suspect, may reach 11pm (the bedtime that my father has always advocated) before long.
My daughter-to-be's impending arrival has also spurred me to finish many non-academic projects while I possibly can, including editing a family history, submitting a publication proposal for a children's book that my sister and I have been working on for several years, and organizing everything in my home so that my husband can find everything while I'm preoccupied.
And quite impressively, I will be taking a semester off from teaching -- which I have not done since I started working as a teaching fellow during my PhD studies and then as a faculty member. I know I should rest up during this precious sabbatical so that I can be more productive in the future, but I also hope that my daughter will be amenable to keeping me company as I do more reading and writing than I have been able to schedule in the past few years.
My mother took a picture of me when I was three years old, which has gained a bit of notoriety after being featured in some slide shows. I was deep in thought while working on my typewriter (yes, my parents expected a lot from me in the literacy department) and on my right-hand side was a doll wearing only a diaper, lying on the table. One former boyfriend deduced that I would be a negligent (wife and) mother. Friends have teased me for being overly dedicated to work. My husband, a fellow academic, said, "Well, just remember to put some clothes on our real-live kid."
I shall keep my better half's recommendation in mind, and in August, I plan to be sitting in front of my computer (although finding a typewriter would be great fun too) with daughter in portable crib, grateful for her filial piety in giving me some much-needed "selfish scholar time" (only research, no teaching and admin) and the pleasure of her company.
While none of my present conditions are in any way novel (thank goodness), I must acknowledge my daughter-to-be's unconscious sense of filial piety. Crawling onto my soapbox, I must proclaim to all that we academics are 1) not as lazy as we may seem, 2) but are in fact, always working. Since I started my Master's degree in 2000, I have not actually taken a complete day off from work (yes, that includes periods of family-mandated vacations, wedding, and all) aside from three episodes of medical emergencies. Whether reading, writing, grading, managing administrative tasks, or doing the myriad of other things that academics must do (so to correct another myth, we do have set responsibilities -- it's not just a buffet of self-selected activities), my mind has been married to the academy for about thirteen years.
So it amazes me that I will be compelled to not only vacate the office for a set period of time but that I am already feeling the literal and figurative weight of shifting my energies in a different direction. The customary symptoms of pregnancy brain and weight gain have slowed me down, physically and mentally, in considerable measure. I have learned to take hour-long breaks between two-hour work periods just so I can catch my breath, store up enough oxygen, and firm up my back. I have to wake up as soon as I feel able so I can maximize my day, and stretch my concentration to reach the endpoint which is becoming ever earlier, from 1am to 12:30am, and I suspect, may reach 11pm (the bedtime that my father has always advocated) before long.
My daughter-to-be's impending arrival has also spurred me to finish many non-academic projects while I possibly can, including editing a family history, submitting a publication proposal for a children's book that my sister and I have been working on for several years, and organizing everything in my home so that my husband can find everything while I'm preoccupied.
And quite impressively, I will be taking a semester off from teaching -- which I have not done since I started working as a teaching fellow during my PhD studies and then as a faculty member. I know I should rest up during this precious sabbatical so that I can be more productive in the future, but I also hope that my daughter will be amenable to keeping me company as I do more reading and writing than I have been able to schedule in the past few years.
My mother took a picture of me when I was three years old, which has gained a bit of notoriety after being featured in some slide shows. I was deep in thought while working on my typewriter (yes, my parents expected a lot from me in the literacy department) and on my right-hand side was a doll wearing only a diaper, lying on the table. One former boyfriend deduced that I would be a negligent (wife and) mother. Friends have teased me for being overly dedicated to work. My husband, a fellow academic, said, "Well, just remember to put some clothes on our real-live kid."
I shall keep my better half's recommendation in mind, and in August, I plan to be sitting in front of my computer (although finding a typewriter would be great fun too) with daughter in portable crib, grateful for her filial piety in giving me some much-needed "selfish scholar time" (only research, no teaching and admin) and the pleasure of her company.
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