The last three days, Minnow has taken a two hour nap on her own. It's amazing how something as little as that can make such a big difference in my outlook. It gives me hope: that independent, predictable naps might become commonplace; that someday she'll sleep at night for more than 1.5 hours at a time (and in her crib for more than 25 minutes); that I haven't screwed her up completely by holding her for naps for most of the past six months. (She's just been put down for her second independent nap of the day. Will wonders never cease?)
I also found out what I am teaching this fall - an intro course with similarities to one I have taught in the past. It's a relief to know that I won't be prepping an upper-level course from scratch, including writing labs, in the next few weeks. Hopefully, I won't go overboard making my lectures too pretty, and will settle for keeping them interesting enough to keep students awake during the early morning time slot. If I can stick with that, I should have enough time to get my lab set up, write some proposals, and write some papers.
We are slowly digging out from the blizzard of boxes that arrived with the movers. During yesterday's nap, Fish and I got most of the kitchen put away, and during this morning's nap I shelved some books and filed some files. Maybe tomorrow I'll manage to pay our overdue second quarter taxes. (whoops!) We've discovered that a few things were left unpacked by the packers (how annoying), but by and large, most things seem to have survived the move pretty well. I only wish I'd had the time pre-move or post-move to do a lot of purging of stuff. For example, I am facing a box that says "office stuff." If I couldn't come up with a more descriptive label than "stuff," do I really need it. In any case, it's nice to have lamps, glasses, books, and chairs again.
Of course all of this domestic and professional tranquility will be upset in a few days when we find out when my mom's surgery is scheduled. Right now it's maddeningly up in the air, so I am just proceeding to make plans as if I weren't going to Midwest at all. I'll just have to change plans when I find out the surgery date. And that trip will of course disrupt the wonderous naps, house organization, and syllabi planning. But what can I do? (Yes, it has occurred to me that (my mom and) I are focusing on logistics of the next few weeks so we can avoid dealing with more emotional stuff.) I guess I can only hope that the surgery reveals a minute tumor and that routines (read: naps) re-establish themselves once we return.