I start each era of my survey course with a conversation about what students already know about the period. Yesterday we started the long 18th century and I have never had a group so enthusiastic about the time period. Thanks, Bridgerton.

Voted.

Introduced the five year old to “The Monster Mash” and he is appropriately thrilled with it.

There is much that bothers me about the White House ballroom. But as someone who loves neoclassical architecture, the resulting asymmetry is making me pull my hair out.

Just saw a TikTok where a mom proposed that so many problems would be solved if moms would just spend 2 hours batch-making homemade snacks for their kids each week. I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed this hard.

I organized coffee and donuts and coloring pages for the Honors Students, as well as snacks and games for the Humanities students and faculty. Both went well and I feel pretty darn hopeful right now. So obviously I am making the right choice and going online.

My kid is watching Danny Go and playing with his giant drum sticks (aka pool noodle drum sticks). I just hollered from the kitchen “in the house we hit beats 2 & 4, not 1 & 3.” For more reasons my kid will need therapy, keep following.

My poor child. Every time he answers a question with “because,” I tell him it’s not an answer, it’s a subordinating conjunction and now you know why this child will need therapy later.

If you don’t want me to be embarrassing, don’t play songs from my middle school dances at the coffee shop.

Teaching Philip Sidney in the survey course today. I always ALWAYS forget that he was only 32 when he died. He’s one of those literary figures who makes me say “I really need to get back to my writing. This poet managed ALL THAT so young.”

I should not be allowed unsupervised in any store that has Halloween-themed baking ingredients.

I know it is still 80 degrees here. It is the last day of September and therefore it is soup season and I had corn chowder for lunch and I am a very happy campus for the next 10 minutes.

Been thinking a lot about this idea lately: what is life like for people who are so fearful of difference? For people who believe that everything and everyone must conform? I think this is a central thread that runs through a whole lot of conversations lately.

So that was an experience I hadn’t yet had, but our campus was locked down today. No threat directly to campus, but still rather nerve-rattling. The fact that this is America hurts my heart so much. This is far, far too routine.

I am a confirmed cat person. I have lived with 5 different cats in my lifetime. Part of being a parent is accepting your children as themselves. Please note that my son has declared himself a dog person this week.

I am at the “waking up in the middle of the night thinking about that time in 1995 when the band director yelled at me in front of everyone” level of anxiety. How are you?

Got an email today that says “give your lesson plans a glow-up” and you know what? No, no I do not want to do that, thank you.

I’ve been terrified for my colleagues, my students, and members of my community. I am now starting to feel that terror for myself, especially because I question whether or not the community I live in will give a shit.

I was called unamerican today. I don’t generally pull out this piece of info, but: some of my ancestors have been in this country since at least 1750. I have ancestors who fought in the revolutionary war. Back the f off when you want to question whether or not I’m worthy of living in my country.

Just over here weeping uncontrollably because my social media feeds have now given me the first post-9/11 Sesame Street episode where Elmo is terrified and the video Fred Rogers recorded after 9/11.

Oh, hey. It’s burning even more than when I posted this. Work for peace. Work for justice. Have mercy and show grace. Don’t become numb to the horrors of the world, even when they happen to people you don’t like.

The world is burning, but today I taught Paulo Freire in my civic engagement class and I’m getting ready to teach The Second Shepherds Play in Brit Lit. The two have a lot more to say to each other than you might think. Teaching keeps me afloat.

Taught Margery Kempe today. Probably had entirely too much fun. Did stop short of recreating her flailing about on Mount Calvary. Seriously considered it. This is what full professor looks like, apparently.

My child is obsessed with Legos already. One of his cousins is now interested in and her birthday is coming up. I’m gonna need a bigger Lego budget.

One of my son’s best friends has two moms. You know how I explained it to him? “Some people have a mom and a dad. Some have two moms. Some have two dads.” His response? “Oh, okay.” That’s it. He’s five. He gets that families are different.

It occurs to me that using AI to do your thinking is like letting your gps guide your car into a lake.

Currently getting a lot of ads for anxiety, parents of children with adhd, adult women with undiagnosed adhd, and something called “mom rage.” Not quite sure how to take this.

In today’s conversations with a five-year-old: “do not start a pillow fight with the dog.”

Putting the flowers I buy at the farmers market from my favorite organic farm into a thrifted Ball jar might be a little too on the nose for an English Professor.

Today is one of those days where I wonder if I should just legally change my name to “Mommy, I need you.”

Other people read things like Alice in Wonderland or Wind in the Willows to their kids. My five year old has requested Beowulf.

We took our five year old to Cedar Point today. I rode two rides for children. I ate some ice cream. We were there for four hours. The kid loved it. I am exhausted and sunburned and am entirely too old to be doing this.

Mr. Rogers did not raise us to be this selfish and uncaring.

I’m thinking about the school supply discussions and complaints that I’m seeing, especially the ones where the supply list is for shared supplies. The thing is, WE remember getting folders with our names on them and being territorial about writing utensils.

So the thing about raising a kid who has a personality that’s basically identical to your own is this: my thousand yard stare of disapproval DOES NOT WORK. I mean, I once scared a disliked boss with it. But my five year old? Absolutely nothing.

Our library has summer reading for adults, which gives you entries into drawings for nice prizes for every book you read. As a former “book it” kid who read for personal pan pizza, this was incredibly effective as a way to get me to finish more books this summer.

Today, I took my kid to two birthday parties. I think this means I’m now officially a five-year-old’s social coordinator. Also, now I need a nap.

I am so incredibly confused by this text asking me to sign a petition. Are you disappointed in ME? That seems condescending. Are you disappointed in congress? That seems like an underwhelming response.

Migraine and depressive episode on the same day 0/10. Do not recommend

This morning, I told my son that he got to play with his friends all day and then go to his grandma’s house, which is the best kind of day. He corrected me to tell me that “no, Halloween is the best day.” He is not necessarily wrong here.

Took the dog on a long walk this morning. Listened to Monday’s episode of one of my favorite podcasts. Heard my own letter read during the “listener mail” segment. Have decided to call it quits now, because I think I’ve run out of smart things to say.

Just ran across a makeup tutorial for women whose “middle school fragrance was Electric Youth” and I am feeling rather called out about my tendency to only use loose matte powder.

One of the thing that completely bewilders me about all the cool diy video projects: who are these people who have all these large walls with room to do things? Where are all the bookshelves?

Also, my not very hot take: I want to live in a world where we care about ALL of the children. All of them. They should get to grow up. They should be able to thrive.

I’ve been thinking about hot takes a lot lately: we don’t all need to have them. Listening is hard, but it’s incredibly important. I spend far more of my time reading other people’s experiences than providing my opinion on those experiences.

We went to a car show at the park earlier today, where there were also food trucks. Today there was a food truck labeled “Filipino street food” and I am clearly their target audience, because I will make a beeline for any kind of new (to me) food in a truck. Needless to say, it was awesome.

Currently reading Night of the Living Rez by Morgan Talty, which is a fantastic short story collection about growing up on a Penobscot reservation in Maine. Seriously, I started this three days ago and I’m almost done.

One thing about having been raised to be extremely independent and self sufficient is that you wind up taking care of the bugs that give you the willies, rather than making someone else get them while you run screaming. Stupid house centipedes.

I always include a creative project in my literature classes. I also always have students who tell me “I’m not creative” and then turn around and turn in wonderful projects. One of my students wrote “bad lyrics” about the Cyclops and I don’t know that I’ve ever laughed so hard from a student project

Conversation with my child: “Cruise ships are crazy, bro. How is a cruise ship bigger than the Titanic, bro?” At some point, I’ve become bro. Also, it’s a good thing that I was a Titanic-obsessed kid (among all the other standard obsessions)