The Conference

AERA 2013 is all a-buzz. The theme of this year's conference is Education and Poverty, but it's so crowded that the theme feels more like "I'm Sorry. I Didn't Mean To Touch You There." The elevator in the main conference hotel buzzes when it reaches the weight limit. This has happened on every elevator I've been on. It's very intimate. 

And yet. I'm sitting here in the lobby waiting for someone I know to pass by and so far, nothing. All these people and I don't know a single one. The man standing next to me has flagged down four people he knows, which suggests to me that I should make some friends. 

The talk is mostly ready. It's my first attempt to share data from the diss at a major conference. I'm looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. The usual feelings there. 

I'm off to stand in line for the elevator now. Yes. There's a line for the elevator. I don't think I'll be participating in AERA 2014. 

There's More to Explore

Sam is watching Curious George right now. Sometimes I feel bad about allowing this 30 minutes of screen time each morning while he eats breakfast. Well. He sort of eats breakfast. I have to pause the show and prod him to do it because he's basically catatonic while George is on. But most days I feel good about checking my email, making coffee, and organizing the day. We're better off for it, I say.

Lately, though, Sam insists on "more" George and gets a little cranky when I shut things down. I'm trying to think of this fight as a teachable moment. You know. A lesson about how good things must come to an end. Or something like that. Of course, I'm the one feeding his growing addition each morning. So there's that.

I have about twenty more minutes of freedom. Time for a second cup of coffee.

Never Ending Winter

I think we can all agree that this spring (can I even say that?) has been crazy. From the many toddler illnesses to the travel here and there to the elective surgery that I still can't believe I agreed to and, of course, to finally finishing a dissertation. It has been over. the. top.

I am thrilled to report, however, that things seem to be settling down. Sure. I still have to revise the draft and defend. But it seems doable.

If only the sun would shine.

The Haps

You're probably wondering what's going on over here at Slapdash. Here's the rundown:

I am frantically trying to finish this draft. (Yes, still). Basically, I have grossly underestimated how long it will take me to write any single thing. I mean, GROSSLY.

I have also been doing a lot of planning for various workshops and presenting them here and there. This takes some time away from the diss, but I rather enjoy it.

Sam had RSV last week. He's been on the nebulizer and that seems to have helped. Now Dave and I have some version of it. My ears, for example, are currently plugged.

We took a short trip to Montana to visit my adorable and brilliant nephew (along with the rest of his family who I actually knew first). Returning on the plane today, my ears nearly exploded.

All of the above has greatly reduced the amount of sleep I've been getting each night. And I am exhausted.

None of which, I realize, is an excuse for neglecting the blog. I can do better.

Recap 10: The Recap Challenge

We've come to the end of another blogging challenge, and I have to say that I really enjoyed this one. Basically this challenge got me to blog about mundane aspects of my day--just like I used to!

But here I am on the last day of the challenge with nothing to recap. I hoped and hoped that something interesting would happen today. It was, however, fairly run-of-the-mill.

I got up in the early hours to write. Played, read books, and built forts with Sam this morning. Took a trip to Target for some cabin items we'll need over the weekend. Did more writing in the afternoon. Had some family time in the evening. And returned to the computer for more writing once Sam was down.

So. There you have it. A recap of my days as a dissertator. It's coming to an end, soon, though. Very. Very. Soon.

Recap 9: Nap Routine

I've been working from home for the last week during Sam's nanny-time. Heather, the nanny, is great. Sam loves her and her suitcase of toys so much that he doesn't care that I'm in the next room.

During this time, I have been fortunate to overhear their nap-time routine. It's very sweet and makes me happy.

First, they race up the stairs. Heather does a play-by-play of the competition as it's happening. "Sam is ahead by a nose!" Sam giggles with delight and wins every time.

During the diaper change, Heather sings. I don't know the songs, but Sam does. His favorite seems to be one about pie.

They read three books each time, and it takes only five seconds to pick them out. Every character has a different, glorious voice, and I stop what I'm doing to follow along.

I love the next part.

Heather does this sing-song voice that announces, "And now it's time to say goodnight!" Kind of like Ryan Seacrest. Very dramatic and suspenseful. Then she says quickly, "But first, kisses from all of your friends!" And twenty stuffed animals kiss Sam on the nose. Or so I picture it.

The routine ends with criss-cross applesauce.

The whole thing takes only ten minutes, and Sam doesn't try to ask for water thirty times before falling asleep. It's a miracle to behold.

Recap 8: Emotion Coaching

Yesterday's topic at EFCE was emotion coaching. According to our brilliant leader, Lani, this is where the real stuff of parenting happens. It's what we signed up for, and it's crazy hard.

Here are the five steps of emotion coaching (based on the work of John Gottman):

1. Awareness. We must be aware that our own emotions are separate from our child's. Often we assume that our child must feel what we would feel (or are feeling) in a particular situation, and that's simply not true.

2. Opportunity. Emotional expressions are opportunities for intimacy and learning. It's hard to look at tantrums and meltdowns this way, but we learn our most important lessons (about love, about life) in disequilibrium.

3. Listen and Validate. Telling your child that there's no reason to be upset only means he'll have to try harder to convince you that there is a reason. The feeling is real even if the reason is not. Sam often comes running from the other room saying, "Bear! Bear!" There's no bear. But he is afraid.

4. Label the emotion. Give it a name. Use simple terms.

5. Deal with the situation and set limits. This step is hard. It often requires that we say no. It also requires that we, as Lani says, "stay on the shore" while our children drown a bit in the emotion. We can't join them out there. We are the parents, after all.

As it turns out, I had the opportunity to practice these steps a number of times last night.

Sam wanted to stand on top of a tall stool we have in our kitchen, for example, and when I told him I couldn't let him do that, he lost it. I recognized that he felt pretty frustrated and seized the opportunity to validate his emotions.

"You feel mad," I said. "But I can't let you stand on anything that tall. You might fall." He cried for a while and refused a shorter stool to stand on.

"It's hard," I said. "But it's for the best." He cried more. And more. I hugged him.

"Do you want to read a book?" I asked after a while.

"Yeah," he said. I wiped his tears. We read.

And then we went through the steps again twenty minutes later when it was time to stop reading and eat dinner.

Recap 7: Another Weekend

We had grand plans. Friday we were to have dinner with much beloved friends. They asked us out last minute, and thanks to the kindness of Dave's brother and his wife, we secured care for Sam. Then, come to find out, Dave somehow missed that the invitation was actually for March 8 and not Friday. And so. We stayed home.

Saturday we were to celebrate the February birthday's in Dave's family with a reservation for eight at a local restaurant. One of those family members was Sam's Papa, and Sam had been gleefully saying "Papa" all day (which he does any time there's reason to think about, talk about, or see Papa). Then, come to find out, Papa had a stomach bug and had been throwing up for twelve hours. The reservation was cancelled. Dinner plans thwarted again.

We did manage to enjoy ourselves here and there.

Sam and Dave attended Sam's last swimming lesson for the season, and our little Fin Buddy came home with a certificate and a checkmark in the "Good Work" column in all areas except for submerging his face. Something to work on.

Later we took a trip to Ikea in search of the perfect, cheap step stool for Sam. What a terrible idea this was. Ikea is somewhat unbearable even when you are in search of a large and necessary furniture item. For a step stool, there's no point in going. Especially when you can't find the step stool. We did find a handful of other items we never knew we needed (e.g. chip clips, a watering can, spatulas for the play kitchen, and two matching funnels), and Sam thought it was the greatest place on earth. So. Not a total loss.

Sunday involved some project time. Dave and Sam took the old handles off the built-in drawers in our bedroom. Sam may or may not have been in charge of the drill. I tell myself that Dave would never allow him to use the power tools, but I can't be sure. In the end, they couldn't attach the new handles because, come to find out, the drawers need painting. Opening the drawers now requires hitting them with a fist Fonzi-style so that they pop out just enough to get a finger in and pull. Let's face it, it could be like this for months.

I spent part of Sunday at yoga. Third class this week. Totally worth the time. Namaste.