Things have been quiet on this blog recently because I’ve been knee-deep in job application hell.  I’ve already reneged on my vow to steer clear of academic jobs.  I am indeed applying for an academic job.  It’s tenure-track and it’s in Maine.  And as I’ve poured hours into crafting a research statement, I’ve felt increasingly that I don’t have what it takes to get this job.  And I’ve found myself wondering why in the hell I’m in this field anyway.  Science was always my worst subject.  Seriously.  It’s been over a year since I’ve been fully involved in the lab; during my pregnancy I was very limited in what I could do and spent most of my time in front of the microscope, an activity that ended up going nowhere.  Because of all of that down time, I don’t have any new data to publish and I feel more and more like I’m on a raft without an oar, watching the only piece of land in sight shrink to a mere speck on the horizon.  There’s no funding to attend academic conferences, no babysitter to give me a hour to attend a seminar or two, and if my VPN access goes away, then I will be truly screwed.  In all honesty, I am very excited for this job and I am anxious about how I will come across on paper and during a talk.  And if I get the job, I will continue to be anxious because I do not like to disappoint.  I’ve asked virtually everyone I know to review my statement of teaching philosophy, my cover letter, and my research proposal.  I’ve gotten some stellar advice.  I still can’t shake that feeling that I won’t be good enough, especially as I pour through the literature and realize that I truly have gotten behind ALREADY.  I’ve only been out of work a few months.  

I’m going to change the subject now because, in spite of the immense stress of job-hunting while taking care of H, I had a happy end to the day today.  Generally speaking, this past week has been a whiny one for H.  I believe his gums are bothering him, and he is unhappy laying on his back.  But he hasn’t been able to sit up on his own either.  And it’s unreasonable for me to keep him propped up with my hands for hours on end.  On Monday, we had the pleasure of meeting our friend’s new little baby, 5-week old Maddie:

Isn’t she sweet?!  While there, H got to try out Maddie’s Bumbo seat:

I wanted to see how he would like it, as it had the potential of solving all of our sitting problems.  Well, guess what?  It’s hard to tell from the photo, but HIS THIGHS ARE TOO FAT FOR THE BUMBO!!!  When I went to pick him up out of it, the Bumbo seat was stuck to his butt because he was wedged in there so tightly.  Although the Bumbo seat is awesome, it’s not going to work for our full-figured man.  He is getting too big for so many of his gadgets, yet developmentally he could still really benefit from them.  So I told him that he needed to learn to sit on his own because he is miserable laying on his back and he is too fat for the little baby seats.  What other choice does he have?  

Up to this point, H would sit unassisted for mere seconds before toppling over unapologetically.  But I suppose suffering the indignity of having your large infant ass get stuck in a Bumbo seat served as motivation for him to get with the sitting.  Today when we practiced sitting, he demonstrated much better control for longer periods of time than ever before.  Moreover, he would perform self-corrective movements to maintain his posture, which is something I’d never seen him do.  He would also put a hand on the floor to brace himself and prevent himself from falling over.  As the day wore on, he would sit for longer and longer, while trying to flip through the pages of one of his books (it’s no Being and Time, but still):

Here he is surrounded by pillows to cushion the occasional fall¹:

But he still detests tummy time:

And still does not roll from tummy-to-back. 

 

1.  Falls are typically preceded by the following series of events:  (1) the cat struts casually past H; (2) H follows the cat with his gaze; (3) H turns his head as the cat casually leaves H’s field of view; (4) H attempts to look over his shoulder at the cat who is now behind him; (5) H falls over backwards; (6) cat runs away anxiously as if he didn’t know that was going to happen (although he totally did).