There are times when the universe seems to weigh us down with a message--a piercing note like the buzz of electricity, driving into our brains until we are forced to acknowledge it, forced to give it space so we can think again. Can catch our breath. Four moments made the buzzing so loud I've been forced to face the expectations I still carry out on my own body. Expectations I wear like a (appropriately modest) dress.
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It's been another nearly six months of absence from this blog, which brings me nearly a month past my daughter's first birthday. I've learned a lot this year--about myself, about being a working mother, about what I really need out of my work life to feel I can give my best to Madeline while parenting.
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If you missed it, I spent the last three weeks doing our department's take-home version of comprehensive exams. This is the first year they've been an option, & while we all have complicated feelings about the idea, I was fortunate to have this version. Because let's be honest, my baby--now five months & increasingly demanding--would not let a closed-book test happen. Not the memorization required, & not three uninterrupted four-hour time blocks. (Is it an unfair advantage to take a break mid-exam to pump? The world may never know.)
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