ITEM: Wouldn't everything we think about raising infants be different, wouldn't all the arguments be different, wouldn't all the dogmas be different, if even a few people were able to remember back then? (Without, like, hypnosis.)
And wouldn't everything be even more different if everyone were able to remember back then?
ITEM: Should I be more annoyed that my employer broadcast my forthcoming maternity leave to the entire faculty (in the middle of a long list of personnel actions that contained, sadly, no other worthwhile gossip), or that no one on campus wrote afterwards? Hmmmmmm.
ITEM: Our sublet features a couple of houseplants which outweigh us by a fair margin. I don't mind them; Beaker hates them. Yet it is Beaker who waters them every week, ranting all the while about the mold festering under the pots. Recently he spent all morning on a ladder polishing the leaves of the largest, which has a little scale problem. (He did let himself prune the dangling roots that get caught in his hair.)
What does this bode for future dependents of ours?
ITEM: Don't unicyclists have to follow the rules of the road? Even when they're, like, really late to yoga class? (I saw a guy with a purple mat under his arm blow through a stop sign this morning. Chee!)
ITEM: Why won't the damn blue (but dark blue, really it's almost black) helicopter out there stop circling overhead?
I think that if we all remembered what it was like to be a tiny child we'd be so horrified at what we remember that we'd never reproduce. It's probably nature's way of perpetuating the species. :-)
Some of your colleagues probably think of your impending maternity leave as some sort of sabbatical, and they're unspeakably envious. :-) Others might not know whether you want congratulations or commiseration, or they might have been checking their e-mail on their PDAs when the announcement was made and missed it entirely.
Ever since the week of drive-by postings at Chez Mis I've been incredibly conscious of anything I say to mothers and mothers-to-be, and have started avoiding topics of children and pregnancy altogether unless I know the person pretty well. I doubt that everybody you work with was reading that thread, but just in general, it seems like it's become less common to remark on a co-worker's pregnancy.
Posted by: MJ | Thursday, April 07, 2005 at 06:34 AM
I was just wondering how are things with your pregnancy? I am due 8/17/05. Will have ultrasound 4/20 hopefully will find out if it is a girl or boy. Do you know if your baby is a girl or boy yet? Thanks for taking the time to write in your blog. I check it everyday.
Posted by: Lorene | Thursday, April 07, 2005 at 12:50 PM
I don't know about your local airport, but ours (the small municupal airport, not the international) has a "Noise Abatement" person you can call to complain about the helicopters. I'm not sure if it really makes the noise stop, but at least it's something to do about it.
Posted by: cass | Friday, April 08, 2005 at 12:44 AM
I find it a little sad that noone commented, not even something generic like "How exciting." Could this be similar to academic jealousy (wherein you can publish a book and not even have colleagues take the time to say something after the announcement)?
Posted by: Tina | Sunday, April 10, 2005 at 01:59 PM
Academics are weird. Don't take it personally. Congratulations on your pregnancy!
Posted by: Liz | Sunday, April 10, 2005 at 04:28 PM
You know, I think the real issue is that everyone who would have felt comfortable writing, already knew... I did eventually get one "reply," from some one else who's about to negotiate a maternity leave. So at least I was able to help out a little there.
Turns out the helicopter was monitoring a huge house-destroying fire a little further down the hill. No one was hurt, thank goodness.
Posted by: Emma Jane | Monday, April 11, 2005 at 01:59 AM