Focus

Things I'm trying really really hard to ignore right now: constant morning sickness; aversions to most food that S suggests for dinner each night; a horribly aching back; the pending arrival of both sets of parents in less than two weeks; and the dawning realization that I need to hire a lawyer to handle the medical claim against the other guy's auto insurance.

Things that I'm vainly attempting to focus on while ignoring those other things: my thesis. Which needs to be turned in to the university in approximately ten weeks.

So far, I have written 148 pages of my thesis. These 148 pages are very much a draft, and thus are in varying degrees of "doneness". Some of those pages are in excellent shape awaiting comments from my committee. Other sections are still in early draft form, and will probably be rewritten once or twice before going out for review.

I separate my thesis into ten major chunks, and seven of them are at the 90%-or-more done stage, with maybe one minor section in each that I'm still tweaking. (Chapter 2 needs a better conclusion; Chapter 5 needs a little more polishing in its transitions; that sort of thing.) I estimate that the thesis draft itself is approximately 75% done, with most of the remaining 25% needing to happen in the last three chunks, which are at much lower levels of doneness. (For example, my concluding chapter doesn't exist yet. At all. 0% done. I hate conclusions.) Also, the 75% number might be wildly optimistic if my committee hates what I have. Though my committee will only be able to hate what I have if they ever freakin' read the darn thing!

To date, I have sent exactly one chapter out for review. My committee unanimously agreed that they want to see my introduction, then they want to go through several rounds of revision with me on the introduction, and then they want to see the rest of the thesis all at once. So, I dutifully finished a draft of my introduction and sent it out for review. AdvisorB had many thoughtful comments and changes. I updated the chapter slowly while waiting for comments from other committee members. When it became apparent that nobody else was reading it, I sent out a new version and asked my committee members to review the new version. AdvisorB is meeting with me on Monday for another set of reviews. Everybody else: deafening silence. In particular, AdvisorA, my primary research advisor, has given me zero feedback. None. I keep sending her reminders, asking her if she's had a chance to look, and she's completely ignoring me. Last week, I got an email from her, out of the blue, asking me what I'm working on, and if there's anything that she should be aware of. I quickly responded with YES! I'm writing my thesis, and I need your feedback! Please read the chapter I sent you! Nothing.

Also, writing a 200 page document in 20-minute intervals does not work very well, but 20 minutes is about the limit of how long I can sit in front of my computer before my back gives out and I have to walk around and stretch a bit. Back injuries suck. I've been trying to think of a worse time for this car accident to have happened, and I can't think of anything. Pregnant, writing my thesis, planning my dissertation defense, looking for a job, and planning a move. Yeah, excellent timing.

Anyway, ten weeks. Yikes.

Fluid Dynamics

I'm a total cliche. My little boy is now 10 months old, and it turns out that I'm one of those mothers who goes on and on about how fast time flies and where did the time go? But rather than give another bulleted update on teeth (eight so far, all shockingly visible when he smiles, and I fear that there are early molars on their way) and mobility (no crawling, no pulling up, no cruising, no wanting to take steps, but he can bounce across a room on his backside a la Tigger when he really wants to) I'm going to talk about physics.

Back at LL's six month update, I mentioned that LL was figuring out the basics of physics. He had figured out enough about gravity to keep him upright in a sitting position! He had observed what happened when he hit one object with another! He understood enough about friction that he could pull a blanket to make toys on top of the blanket move towards him! Forces and opposite forces and bodies in motion! All good stuff.

But clearly, I was a bit premature in my assessment of his knowledge. Did you notice anything about what he had learned? It's all good classical mechanics stuff, but there's something notably missing. We are slowly discovering that his handle on fluid dynamics is not quite up to par. Examples:

Picking up applesauce with your fingers doesn't work very well. The applesauce tends to just slide through your fingers. Same with pureed squash. And pureed carrots. And pureed mango. And milk. Every time. If you want to feed these things to yourself, fingers are not a very good mechanism.

Lying on your back and holding a bottle up for yourself is very cool. But when you then roll onto your stomach, with the bottle underneath you (but still in your mouth), you're not going to be able to drink. See how the milk is at the opposite end from the nipple? That's a problem. Sorry, but it's not Mommy's fault. Yell at me all you want, but you will still need to roll onto your back in order to drink. It's not that Mommy is being mean or arbitrary. As they say: it's the Law.

Drinking out of sippy cups is a lot of fun. I understand that it's hard work to drink when there's a valve there, so I've done as you've asked and removed the spill-proof valve, so that the water flows more freely. But when you tip the cup upside down over your head, the water is going to come out. Onto your head. Yes, you're going to get wet. Sometimes the water is even going to go in your eyes. Yell all you want, but don't think that you're going to convince the water to behave any differently.

While we're on the subject of water, let's discuss bathtime. Yes, more than anything else, the bathtub is your own personal fluid dynamics laboratory. It's good that you spend so much time in the tub running experiments and making observations. For instance, I know that you're fascinated to figure out how the spray showerhead works. All those sparkling drops of water, flying out of a shiny metal nozzle! You can't help but want to touch it. But sticking your face there for a closer look? Probably not a good idea for a budding scientist who doesn't like getting his face wet. And doing it over and over and over? Well, I'm going to take that as a sign that you truly are a scientist. Good work.

LL is currently working on a book, LL's Introduction to Fluid Dynamics: A Practical Guide for Infants, with chapters on bottles, sippy cups, straws, pureed food, bathtubs, swimming pools, beaches, and sprinklers. There's also a super-special chapter for boys on what happens when you pee straight up into the air during a diaper change.