Mama PhD

Each summer for the past four years, Ben has attended a five-day baseball intensive. It is held in the Bronx, only an hour's trip from our home, but since he stays in a dorm and is engaged from early morning until late at night, our experience is not that different from the one we'd have if he were in another state, or another country. I like to mark his growing independence, and my acceptance, by charting our changing responses to this repeating event.

When I teach sampling in my statistics classes, I often talk about the role that Ohio has traditionally played in determining the outcome of presidential races. This was something that I was blissfully unaware of growing up on the East Coast, where I was led to believe that anything that mattered in the country happened east of the Hudson River. Now that I live in Ohio, I realize that my adopted state has often played an important role in determining the final outcomes of presidential races, and that this year’s race promises to be no different. Indeed, those of us who live in Ohio cannot turn on the radio or TV these days without encountering ads from both sides of the isle. This is particularly annoying to those of us who tend to watch or listen to the news, as such programs are where political ads are being concentrated at this point in the race.

My daughter Katie turned seventeen this week and we celebrated by eating, shopping, going to spin classes, eating more and listening to Casey Crescenzo of the Dear Hunter in concert in Chicago. Katie is the child who worries about her grades, studies a lot and rarely parties, but that night she looked radiant in her new sundress, flushed with her excitement about

A friend of mine once told me she heard that 80% of people, when asked, say they are “writing a book” (at least, in their head). I don’t know where she got this “statistic,” it may not accurately represent the population at all, but I like the idea that so many people have a book sitting in their mind. Hey, I’m one of those 75% with a half-completed book on the back burner waiting for…what? Inspiration? Perseverance? Time? I think all of the above.

Midsummer may have been last month by the calendar, but it’s July that feels like the middle of the summer. If I’m truly honest with myself, the middle of my summer passed a few weeks ago, but with six weeks (yikes! Only six?) until the start of classes, mid-July seems close enough. For six more weeks, my time is unscheduled, my routines refigured by heat, an office renovation, and—most importantly—a respite from classes and committee meetings. I’m gloriously unscheduled, free of routine … mostly.

I had many strong reactions to Louis J. Freeh's finding that Penn State officials had been active in covering up Jerry Sandusky's ongoing abuse of young boys. Unfortunately, surprise was not one of them.

When the unusual heat gripped my part of the U.S. in the last few weeks, I did the only logical thing to do - I packed up each evening and took my daughter, and often a neighborhood friend or two, to the public pool. It was a great relief from the heat, and provided a wonderful end to the day. We often play together, splashing in the water that looks like a tortoise shell in the fading sunlight. However, she also likes to go off to swim with her friends, leaving me to either swim laps, to observe what is going on at the pool or to chat with fellow parents, many of whom are also left alone while their children play. As I sat back and took a breath, I found myself noticing several things.

On the last day of school, my daughter’s grade one teacher invited parents to attend a class awards ceremony. Each of the twenty-one children in her class was presented with a unique award. Although my attention was at first fully focused on my daughter (a writing award!), I was especially happy for a boy who received recognition for his ability to identify more bugs, birds, and reptiles than the teacher. It made my heart soar that she’d singled out the importance of the boy’s identification skills, especially in a world where people increasingly place little value on knowing what lives around them.