In a bizarre turn of events...

My husband rang me this morning to tell me that I should check to see if my flight to Glasgow (I am due to speak at the Association of Art Historians Conference) had been cancelled. I am supposed to fly tomorrow morning and apparently UK and Irish airspace has been closed due to volcanic ash from an erupting volcano in Iceland. I have just emailed my panel organisers and used the words flight suspended erupting volcano in the same sentence. Bizarre.

If at first you don't succeed?

I was notified that I did not receive that scholarship I applied for in June. When I wrote that first line, yesterday, I was so upset I thought I would have a mental breakdown. You see sometimes it doesn't matter how much you want something, how dedicated you are, how positive and optimistic, or even how smart you are or wonderful your idea is. Sometimes when it comes to competition there is just someone who is better. A scholarship at this level is like gold; it helps you on your way, makes people stand up and take notice and importantly, buttresses the validity of your research.

I went and picked my daughter up from creche, I saw the pure joy on her face when she realised that I was there to collect her. Unconditional love. That is what they call it right? To her it doesn't matter that mommy has tried unsuccessfully for four different scholarships. She doesn't care if I theorise out my ass about contemporary Irish art. All that matters to her is that I am her mommy and that I love her. Remember that childhood innocence? That feeling of security you had when you knew that everything you needed in the world was your family? I think I need to revisit that and draw strength from those memories and from my current support system. I told someone today that I am a pessimist. This is not entirely true. If I was a pessimist I would have quit this whole academic life three years ago. But each time I get knocked down I tell myself this is what I really want and I will stop at nothing to get it. I suppose the lesson to be learned from this is that life might not be fair but I have to keep on chipping away at the things I want. Oh and I am incredibly stubborn.

I guess it is time to get back to work.

And so begins my academic career...

Published. Yes one of the greatest words in an emerging academic's life. 

While on holidays I was notified that an article I submitted for publication in a peer-reviewed journal was accepted for publication. I cannot tell you the excitement that has kept me on a permanent high for the last two weeks since I found out. One of the reviewers suggested a few changes to make the article more theoretically sound, which I whole-heartedly understand and appreciate. After all this is my first publication and I want to make it a good one. It won't be a problem, I thought to myself, that is until I realised that one of the things I needed to do was discuss feminist deconstruction. Not exactly the piece of cake I expected, especially considering that I am not really even familiar with Derrida, much less the feminists critics that employ deconstruction (well aside from Judith Butler, but can anyone really ever understand her?) I have spent my last few days frantically reading, mentally scrambling for something that will fit the bill and not seem like a last minute addition. The only thing that I have managed to pinpoint is precisely what deconstruction is not - i.e. a critique, a method, an analysis. Whoever said editing was the hardest part was not kidding. Here's to hoping I make my two week deadline... glup.

What a weekend

I have spent the past three days at a seminar devoted to the oeuvre of Leo Bersani. I am literally running on metal empty. It was an amazing three days filled with psychoanalysis galore. Bersani writes on all sorts of things, relationality, art, queer politics, literature, philosophy and of course Freud. Somehow I keep falling into these psychoanalysis seminars 'for fun'. I honestly do find the stuff fascinating but it can be so mentally draining to have to focus on theory for sustained periods of time. I did have a very cool moment I must confess. I got to meet James Coleman. Seriously. He was so cool. We just talked about everyday normal stuff. You know. Art. AWESOME. I can't even write coherently. 

It never fails to amaze me how I can be thinking about these obscure things and then I need I hold a baby, correction MY baby and all the theory flies right out of my head and I remember, 'oh yeah I am a mommy'. On Friday I arrived home spend some quality time with cupcake. It was much needed on my behalf. Perhaps the most loving, tender moment we have shared (this week) was when she sat on my lap in her pyjamas facing me. She patted me on the chest and said Mama. I nodded, 'Yes I am Mama.' Then she pressed her face into my neck and whispered 'Mama, Mama' as if to assure herself that I was real.

Please oh please

I am anxious. I can't concentrate on what I am supposed to be doing. Yesterday I emailed a contact regarding funding for my research. The response back was that a call had been sent around and I had missed the deadline. I promptly burst into tears. But the injustice of it is that the email was never sent to me. On any of my millions of mailing lists!

Funding is a loaded word 'round these parts. Undergrad was expensive but was managed through loans. Postgrad - well surely I must be crazy to be undertaking 5 years worth of study without any funding. This of course is not through want of trying. I have applied for 3 scholarships now. The first I didn't know what to expect and was cocky. The second I was humbled and anxious, and then found out that my friend got it. That was a blow to the ego, only because she was someone I like, not that I begrudged her the achievement but a tiny part of me asked 'why not me?' The third call was written for me. When I read the specs I was blown away, everything about the details fit EXACTLY my research. I was quietly confident that good things happen to good people. This was the good thing that was bound to happen to me. And of course you know I didn't get it. That had me depressed for days. I couldn't understand it. Until I realised who got it - someone who is an expert in my field. What competition was I? 

But then at a meeting on Monday it was suggested that I contact the scheme again as more funding was due to become available. I was puzzled as I had not mentioned to this person that I had applied. I wondered what connect they had with the project. After reading an email 20 minutes ago that read 'after you came so close last time' I nearly had a seizure. What? So I was in the running last time? I really came close? Like actually almost had it? That was like rock salt in a old wound. 

My mantra that I am repeating in my head goes something like this: 'Please let me apply, I am so worthy, if I get it so many monetary issues would be solved.'

Fingers crossed.

Doubting Mommy

I can't quite put my finger on it, but ever since having my little honey bee I have been plagued by self doubt. I go through these periods where I lack confidence in my abilities and it really brings me down. I realise this sounds quite depressing but normal human beings can't always be upbeat right? And really there is no need to lie and say I am some perfect mother with a perfect life because if you have read any of my posts you will know that I am anything but perfect. Its like the whole hormonal change that comes with pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding combined with the lack of sleep plus learning to function on a complete different plane of existence has thrown me out of whack. Before all of this I was so certain in myself, so sure that I was good at what I do. Now I can barely string two sentences together and I am questioning whether or not I am good enough to complete my PhD. I had those fears in the beginning of the programme but I steadily grew in confidence. Now I am back to square one and I feel like have to re-learn everything. I also feel like I don't have an original idea left in my brain. Is this something that other women do? Am I doomed to forever question myself and my abilities? 

Mini me has the mini measles

My little one had her MMR vaccination 10 days ago. Last night I noticed a rash on her torso. At first I thought maybe it was due to the one strawberry she consumed during dinner. But then I figured no it couldn't be, an allergic reaction is more like hives. Then today I inspected it again and it is all over her front and back. Does the miserable cycle of cold -runny nose-ear infection-vomit never end? I know she feels miserable and she hates getting her nose wiped. I feel terrible because I know there is nothing I can do but comfort her. But secretly I feel even worse because sometimes I get so frustrated with everything. When I started off working on my PhD I was totally convinced that I could have a baby and complete my research. I poured over  Mommy/PhD blogs, I was obsessed with the 'Do Babies Matter?' report completed by Mary Ann Mason of UC Berkeley. I work well in the face of opposition and I was determined to beat the odds. Nothing could prepare me for this. I am constantly torn between my mothering role and my research. I am so frustrated that I can't adequately balance both. To top it up after returning from my maternity leave I have totally restructured my research. This means that I have to spend more time getting myself up to speed. When mini me get the mini measles and feels miserable it makes mommy feel like she can't manage this balancing act. Why can't I just have the perfect career and the perfect family life at the same time? If we really have gender equality and the contemporary woman 'doesn't need feminism' how come there isn't a man writing a blog post about this?