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  • Mothering at Mid-Career: Training Day

    By Libby Gruner September 1, 2008 8:22 pm

    Only two weeks ago I confidently announced that "it's not a race," that I'd be able to keep my head above water, my feet on the ground, my mind in the game . . . OK, I didn't really employ all those cliches, but I watched a lot of Olympic coverage and they snuck in there. In any event, all the pre-semester planning made it seem as if I'd get right back into the swing of the semester, and still have time for myself.

    Yeah, right. Although I'm making it to class on time, and prepared, it's already feeling a bit like a struggle some days--and as I look ahead, I wonder what I was thinking, assigning three papers and two exams, all those books, all that reading. The idea of October is already filling me with a tiny bit of dread, and it's only the first of September.

    So what's wrong with me? If Sarah Palin can go back to work three days after giving birth, shouldn't I be able to manage a return to the classroom after a year away? (And, I might add, so far post-partum that it really, really doesn't count?) Of course she's got a staff, whereas I have -- well, not-fully-trained children, who aren't yet quite up to the task of making dinner, or keeping on top of the bills. (Slackers!)

    It's not really that bad, yet. My students still seem eager and motivated, and our class discussions have been a pleasure so far. I still don't know everyone's name, but I've got about half of them down, and the rest will come in time. I've got the first batch of response papers to grade -- but at least everyone remembered to write one. And I'm teaching classes I've taught before, so the preparation time is a bit reduced, giving me time to focus on teaching strategies instead of just mastering the material (though I've never been able to coast off old notes, alas!).

    Really, though, I think I was wrong before. It is a race, of sorts, a race for which one trains and prepares while it's ongoing. We're all supposed to reach the finish line together, though, and if I don't do my part the students can't do theirs (and, though they may not realize it, vice versa). Every day, then, as my stamina improves, it will get easier to preserve my voice through the long teaching day; every day I'll find another five minutes here or there to get back to my own work. And every day I'll wonder what I was thinking when I thought, only two weeks ago, that I was ready.

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Comments on Mothering at Mid-Career: Training Day

  • Posted by Caroline , Coeditor Mama, PhD on September 2, 2008 at 10:35am EDT

  • Well, there are many reasons not to compare oneself to Sarah Palin, of course; if she did go back to work 3 days postpartum, it's just a shame: for herself, for her family, for her work. But more to the point here: good luck getting back in shape for teaching! I'm sure you'll be back before you know it.

  • Running the Race With a Passenger
  • Posted by Dr. K on September 3, 2008 at 1:40pm EDT

  • On July 4, I ran the Peachtree Road Race here in Atlanta. Let me spell that out: a 10-K road race in hilly Hotlanta in July. I had a terrible finish time. I already suspected there was a baby on board, so I decided to just finish the race, rather than trying to push for a personal record time. Especially once I started to overheat, I slowed things down, both for my sake and for the sake of the baby I only suspected was along for the ride.

    Now in my thirteenth week of pregnancy (yes, first baby!), I'm finally out of the maternity closet at work, and boy, am I ever relieved! I never wanted to be one of those women who made a baby the excuse for not having it together at work. But the fact is, I can only do so much when I'm fatigued, nauseous, and on a hormone-induced roller coaster. The more my colleagues and students know about my condition, the more they understand the causes of my imperfect behaviour and appreciate the energy I still manage to bring to my work.

    Some professional runners race in the first group of the Peachtree. By the time my group started, the winners of the race had already been declared. Conversely, some like a friend of mine (a staffer here at school and a proud grandmother)walk the race. My brother ran for the first time with his stepchildren, and even though it pained him to do so, he slowed down so as not to leave his stepdaughter behind. My mother walked and ran, pleased that three generations were taking on the same challenge. In the end, it really was the experience and not the finish times that determined how we will remember the race.

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