actually made it through the barriers to my Monday class!

For the first time this semester (which started, in case folks need reminding, the last week of August) I have not encountered a lock that did not respond to my ID card between arriving on campus and getting to my Monday night class. And my ID card even had a little spending money to get some peanut M&Ms from the vending machine since I didn't have enough cash with me and hadn't managed to eat anything since brunch (was too tired to manage breakfast then too achey and distracted to get a late lunch, plus Thing 3 had his 4 month well-baby this afternoon less than 2 hours before my evening class started and of course the doctor was running late so I didn't even get out of her office until 45min before my class started in a location that's a 30min drive across town and had to retrieve items at home before heading there... so I was a few minutes late... but I'd sent an email forewarning the prof that I would probably be late and hopefully it was received). Happy little victory considering how many failures I've been facing... including facing automatically failing my Oppression class if some compromise isn't reached before that class on Thursday morning. Got an email from the prof saying a 4th absence would result in automatic failure, my sitting out in the common area right outside the room for the entire duration of class is counted as an absence (plus I was sick the week after, and then last Thursday I got all the way to the parking lot under the building then locked the baby in the van with my keys and was a total basket case by the time campus security managed to get the van unlocked more than 1/4th of the way into the class time, particularly since I'd been barely holding anything down in my stomach already that morning). Oh, and as I was heading out to the baby's doctor appointment I noticed that my neighbor is scraping paint off their house in a way I'm pretty sure isn't following lead-safe procedures (on a house built in 1927), about 15 feet from our family vegetable garden and likely increasing my kids' exposure to lead through my trying to get them to eat fresh, healthy, local foods. And it's also probably getting on our front porch, so guests who come in that way and straight into the playroom where the baby plays on the floor and forget to remove their shoes before entering are probably tracking lead dust RIGHT to the rug were the baby's hands are moments before going into his mouth. Yay.

So.... celebrate the little victories, right? Even as it seems that every stinking little thing that possibly CAN hold us down and back as a family is doing its damnedest to do so? *sigh*

In other news, I had to write a "personal narrative" about my experiences with oppression and privilege as an assignment for that class. I'd been hoping to get it written more than a week ago but because of everything (health issues, family issues good and bad, etc etc etc) I didn't manage to write it up until the day it was due though I'd had it entirely brainstormed that entire time.  It was due at midnight (the deadline was extended for reasons I don't know since I wasn't in the classroom but I saw the email, was originally due Thursday last) and I sent the email in the afternoon so it was in "early" still at least. 6-8 double space pages requested... I removed line breaks between paragraphs to get it DOWN to 8 pages ;) I *might* share it, not sure.... it's rather long, but then again I do tend to write in novel-length even for blog posts and emails.

Then, today, my husband overslept and woke up Thing 2 and Thing 3 about 2 hours earlier than they normally wake as he was fumbling around kinda noisily trying to get out of the house as quickly as possible. Which meant *I* had to be up and at peak mobility hours before I really was physically capable of that. Which means I'm in an entirely crappy mood today and delaying yet again important phone calls and interactions I need to be having to get this oppression issue taken care of, because I do NOT think I am capable of a productive professional phone conversation at the moment, which was the problem for most of the last week plus. But no, the baby in class "problem" has NO relation to my disability. None at all.

I'm also in a crappy mood over the attitude I'm getting from some of my feminist "elders" (some, definitely NOT all, and I don't even think a majority) that is along the lines of "well, we struggled when we were moms of young babies and trying to have professional lives at the same time, so why do you expect any better? We'll commiserate with you that it sucks while looking at you like you're a total moron for expecting any better and not doing anything AT ALL to try to improve the situation for you or the women that come after you because WE fought OUR fights in that regard already...."  Most recent conversation along those lines was with the family doctor yesterday, who breastfed her own child while doing her medical residency and so thinks that justifies MY having to put up with all this crap in my graduate program now, even as she herself the mother of an adolescent daughter.... Seriously, ladies, do you WANT your own daughters and grandchildren to be put through this same crap that you and I experience in trying to be good mothers? If you can't muster yourself to do it because it's happening NOW and to someone who ISN'T your relation, can you maybe muster just a LITTLE bit of preventative medicine for YOUR OWN??? Commiserating without further action is just a waste of my limited energy.

I also keep getting the "Oh, you've got so much on your plate already, why are you 'picking' this fight on top of all that?" kind of comments. One, I'm not effing PICKING this fight, I'm just not surrendering in a fight that's been brought.  I will NOT wean my child - potentially setting him up to have worse health down the line from the genetic heritage he gets from me and my husband (we're both also asthmatic on top of my physical disabilities, Journal of Breastfeeding Medicine, Vol 1 Issue 4 has an article addressing the importance of exclusive breastfeeding for babies with an asthmatic parent for those who need academic/scientific validation to do the biologically normal thing). Or suggest that I should just pump - for what amounts to a less than 3 hour separation from my baby, I should waste my limited energy reserves on making sure there is a bottle of pumped milk (which I don't even know he'd readily take, he's never had a bottle because there is no logical reason to go through the hassle to force one on him, making him wait for it to be warmed and create extra dishes to wash and such, when my breast is always ready at exactly the right temperature without extra washing), as well as having to haul a breast pump and then expressed milk (which will likely get forgotten in the vehicle when I arrive home because I'm usually pretty out of it by the time I get home until I get a bit of "downtime" to recharge, and one of the sure-fire ways to have a SERIOUSLY pissed off lactating woman on your hands is to tell her that a bottle of her pumped milk has been allowed to spoil instead of being consumed).  Like I NEED more crap to haul around with me (or more likely, forget at home on my way to campus, seeing as I've come close to forgetting my entire backpack with laptop and coursework in it numerous times).  All for SOMEONE ELSE'S preferences, and alleged liability issues (which, as I've stated, in a university that does human subjects research in various departments including my own, is rather a bogus claim to make "oh our liability insurance wouldn't cover injury to your child if there was a fire or something". That sets my bullshit detector off full blast).

What. Ever.