A couple months back we went to a dinner party at a faculty member's house. We were suppose to be celebrating a PhD defense, but it got postponed, so we were just there having a potluck. Anyway, while standing there making small talk and listening to my kids playful screams filter in from the backyard, I picked up on the conversation next to me when I heard, "I just can't imagine having kids right now" - 0r something to that extent.  A small smile crossed my lips and I looked over to see a few ladies talking and sipping their wine.

It seems to me that at these moments the world comes into sharp focus for me.  The stark contrast between my life and other people's lives is so glaringly obvious in my mind.  Truthfully, I've always been a bit self-conscious about my path in life, but over the years I've learned to take a deep breath and enter into these conversations so I can at least tell people why my life is great.

Well, I poured myself a glass of wine and inserted myself into the conversation.  It was lighthearted and goodnatured and, honestly, I don't remember what was said.  Truth be told, I've had this conversation more times than I can count and they all run together in my memory.  

What I do know is life is different for everyone.  I've known many, many women who a young moms, staying at home with their kids, while their partners work toward their masters degree or PhD.  I've known women who hold full time jobs while their partners are in school and wouldn't dream of having kids.  I've known woman who have had babies right smack in the middle of their grad school years and didn't miss a beat.

Personally, I'm so thankful that we had our kids when we did.  Sure, sometimes Clay works long hours and money is always tight and I don't get to do everything I want to do whenever I want to do it.  But, that was the choice Clay and I made, together.  We're both committed to that choice now, and I would never want to change it.  It works for us and that's the important part.

Everyone does is differently.  And there's no right or wrong way to go about having a family.  There's no 5 year plan.  There's no more financially stable time.  There's only a sense of readiness that exists within yourself and when that time comes, you'll know it. 

Clay was out in the field today...all day.  He hasn't been out in the field since the summer of 2006 when Isabel was born.  Do you know what I remember the most about that summer?  Being home, by myself, with the kids, a lot.  

I won't lie.  It was a tough summer.  Isabel was fresh to the world.  I was learning how to juggle two kids and it would have been great to have Clay home on a regular schedule.  But, the fact of the matter is, he couldn't be.  He was running a labor-intensive experiment and he needed to be out in the field working.  So, I took a deep breath and made it work because that's was I do, but it wasn't easy.

Anyway, I was thinking today that I have been tremendously lucky for the past several years.  Clay has been doing theory work using computer simulations, so he comes home at a regular time every day.  We get to eat dinner as a family and he's always there when the kids get tucked into bed.  I am so lucky.  

But that's not the case for a lot of academic spouses.  A lot of academics have field season or research that takes them away from their families every single day for long periods of time.  Which means a lot of academic spouses have to go it alone.

There are times when it's no big deal.  You can use that time to your advantage.  You can spend time with friends or family.  You can catch up on that book you wanted to read or that movie you didn't get a chance to see.  But other times, it's a mess.  Like when your patience has worn thin and you desperately need a helping hand.  Or when you're just feeling lonely and need the company.

I was so fortunate to be surrounded with people that summer that Isabel was born.  There was always someone for Cole to play with while I was juggling a newborn and there was always a friend for me to talk to if I needed the company.  It made all the difference in how that summer played out.

Now-a-days, things are different.  I've met some wonderful people since moving to Kingston, but I've don't have anyone that I "hang out with".  I no longer live in a neighborhood of graduate families, so it's harder to meet people and my best friend goes to work every morning.  But, I recognize that my situation has changed as well.  I've changed.  I'm more comfortable with myself these days.  I can take myself for an hour long run, with no ipod, and be happy to just take in the world around me.  I no longer need the noise.  

If I can offer one nugget of wisdom for academic spouses, let it be this: learn to be with yourself.  Seek out things you want to do and do them by yourself.  Explore your thoughts in silence.  The most uplifting moment I've had was when I took myself to a movie and had a great time despite the fact that I was alone.  It was in that moment that I knew I had gained enough inner wisdom to deal with all the rest of life.

If I had my way, Clay would work from 9:00 to 5:00 everyday.  He would be home for dinner and tucking the kids into bed.  But, our journey into the experimental side of science is just beginning, so I know there's no hope for that.  However, I'm moving into this time with an inner peace, knowing I can deal with the alone time.

Looking back over my past blog posts, I noticed that I talk a lot about location.  I've discussed how an academic life can take you far and wide.  I've weighed the pros and cons of city living vs. country living.  I've spouted the happiness of what location means for my kids (10 days at Grandma's house!)  I seem to go on and on and on about it.  

So the question is why?  Why does location plague me?

I was wandering around the internet the other day when I happened upon a website about vegetarian cooking.  The authors of the blog were a couple out of Dublin, Ireland who own a photography business.  Curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on a link to their photography site to see what kind of photos they shoot.  To me, what I saw was nothing short of breathtaking.  There was photo after photo of couples in the Irish countryside and I immediately lamented that Clay didn't apply for a job at the University of Cork.  

And what I realized, as I sat there looking through those photos, was that I haven't lived anywhere that I want to call home.  Since we've been married, Clay and I have lived in four different cities (Holland, MI - Knoxville, TN - Ann Arbor, MI - Kingston, ON).  All have been great.  All have had good memories and I love certain aspects of each city.  But none of them have been my city.  

Maybe it's because we're not at a point where we can really settle down.  Or maybe it's just the restless part of me that constantly longs for something else...a new adventure...a new experience.  I wonder sometimes if I'll be content when we get our first job.  Not many people are lucky enough to be choosy when it comes to taking an academic position.  Most of the time, you take what you can get.  Will we get lucky enough to get a job in a city that feels like home?  

Then again, if my happy little family is there, how can it not feel like home?

Colleges and universities everywhere are in full swing (or on the verge of full swing at least).  They've moved the freshman in; dining halls are turning out mass cooked meals; and lecture halls are full to bursting with students nodding off already....

And it doesn't effect me at all this year...

Hmmm?

Or should I say, "Aaahhh." 

As a postdoctorate, Clay doesn't teach any classes.  Hooray!  So this year, the university calendar has little effect on me.

However, I certainly remember what it feels like to have an academic spouse that is teaching classes.  There's office hours and grading papers, writing exams and checking them, and long nights doing the work that was suppose to get done during the day - if it wasn't for that student who needed extra help.  And that's just what I remember from grad school.  I haven't even experienced living with a spouse that's an actual professor, but I have plenty of friends who are going  through it right now.

In my mind, actual professors spend hours of time creating course curriculum, choosing books, writing syllabuses, coordinating with assistants, jumping through collegiate hoops, ordering pizza, etc.  It sort of blows my mind just to try and wrap my head around it.  Those of us who are academic spouses are left trying to hold all the pieces together - turning out meals, getting the children going, keeping the house in order, etc, etc, etc.  The same old stuff that can seem like a huge task at times.  For me, though, somehow the school year bring it all in balance (even if it means losing my academic to academia).

Summer is beautiful chaos for me and I love that aspect of it.  It's hot and unpredictable.  Having the kids home all the time, allows for all day adventures that we could never take during the year.  There's ice cream every week and fun to be had every night.  Quite frankly, the summer exhausts me.  But the school year brings cooler weather, football games, rhyme, reason, and general order for me.  So, despite hating the 7:00 a.m., I have to admit that I'm ready for school to begin.  The chaos of summer has extracted its toll from me and it's time for order to be restored.

I hope those of you with academic spouses are weathering the beginning of the school year well.  I would love to hear how everyone is doing.

One of my favorite stories to tell people involves a trip that Clay and I took to Kingston last summer.  At the time we were still in Ann Arbor in the packing, writing, panicking phase of the PhD process.  Clay had already accepted the post-doctorate, so during August we shipped the kids to their grandparents house and took a short vacation to check out Kingston and meet his advisor.

During our stay, we spent a day at the department's field station.  After an hour long drive, it was a short 2-3 mile hike through the woods to a picturesque lake.  There, we hopped into a little boat and slowly rowed our way to the middle of the lake where a small floating dock was awaiting us.  It was breathtaking.  The water was a beautiful dark aqua-green color that lapped gently against the rocky cliffs that rose from the depths of the lake.  There was pine forest as far as the eye could see and not a house in sight.

It was enchanting.

The funny part began when we docked our rowboat and stepped out onto the floating raft.  After unloading the equipment, Clay's advisor asked if either of us were handy.  Clay immediately pointed at me and said, "Sam is."  The next thing I knew, his advisor handed me a long 2x2 piece of wood, a tape measure, a saw, and a drill and asked if I could create a new leg to help hold up the dock's shade tent (one of the legs fell into the lake when they were trying to put it up).  Feeling a bit stupefied, I took the tools and started working.  I thought things were going quite well until Clay's advisor asked me to whittle the end of the wood down with a pocket knife.  All I could think was seriously?  Whittle?  Pocket knife?  Where are we Tennessee?  

Anyway, while sitting there whittling, I had a moment of clarity.  I realized, this is my life.  I'm always going to the be the unpaid research assistant.  The one who fixes things, the one who is writing numbers when measurements are taken, the one that Clay can depend on when he needs someone he can trust to take care of things for him.

It was sort of daunting, and yet wonderfully satisfying to know that Clay will always need me.  Maybe someday he'll be able to pay me for my hard work, but I doubt it.  That's the lot of the academic spouse.

For those who wonder, I finished rigging my make-shift tent leg and it withstood the elements for the rest of the season as far as I know.  

It's that magical time of year again when faculty positions begin to pop up on mail lists and journal postings.  It can be a much anticipated moment for those ready to start their search and it can be agonizing to those still waiting to finish their *PhD, research, papers, etc.*  

Ironically, we fit somewhere in the middle. 

As I have said before, we've made it through the PhD portion of this journey and are currently doing a post-doctorate.  That makes us qualified for some jobs, but not quite ready to apply for others.  It all depends on what schools are looking for...CV, research statements, publications, funding prospects, etc.  So, we're kind of stuck, and not totally certain of what to do.  

On one hand, you don't want to let reasonable job prospects pass you by.  Some of them may be the perfect place for you.  On the other hand, if you can't competitively apply for all the positions you're interested in, should you apply for anything?  What if you apply for the jobs you believe you could get?  What if you get offered a position?  Do you take it because a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?  Or do you wait, and not apply for anything at all because you can't really get a fair comparison of the jobs available?  What if there's nothing available next year?  What if this was your chance?

Round and round the arguments chase themselves.  

As an academic's wife, I've agreed to go along for this journey.  I've agreed to let Clay's job dictate our future and I'm fine with that.  I came to peace with that years ago (it helps that I had no real plans of my own).  But, I own that it's hard to watch this dance take place every year.  I long for a job...a place for us to set down roots, a place where the kids can make friends that they won't have to leave behind.  I'm ready for that.  But, I want Clay to have a job he loves.  I want him to find a place that makes him tick and nurtures his love of science and the world.  

The steps of this dance are difficult.

Have you any advice?  Any wisdom?  Any experience?

So far, I've used this blog to comment on some of the more trying aspects of life as an academic wife.  Today, however, in an attempt to be fair to academia, I want to share what I consider the best part of being in the academic field.

The people.

It has been 8 months since we left Ann Arbor to move north of the border.  And for the first several months I longed to be back in our little townhouse in Northwood V.  Back surrounded by the people I had grown to know and care about.  That's the hard part about growing close to people in academia.  There's always a transient feel about the population and you never know when it might be time for someone to move on, yourself included.

Lucky for me, we live in a world of global communication these days and one of the very best gadgets is SKYPE.  Everyone in academia has it.  It's how I am able to stay in touch with all the people in my life who have scattered across the world thanks to the academic life.  In fact, my computer rang yesterday with a SKYPE call from a friend back in Michigan.  That 30 minute conversation made my day. 

I've meant some of the loveliest people in the past eight years.  Several, I have meant once and never seen again.  Others, I have been lucky enough to have as neighbors and close friends.  They are academics and spouses.  They are students and staff members.  I feel so blessed to have known so many wonderful people and it's all thanks to being the wife of an academic.

I, and probably many other academic wives, lovingly call my husband the Absent-minded professor.  Well, most of the time it's lovingly.  Every once in a while I say it while smacking a hand on my forehead because clearly, they don't teach common sense in these PhD programs.  Here's how I know.

We live in apartment building with a small walk-out balcony.  Our two cats pine every morning for the moment we'll awake and open the magical sliding door that leads them out into some outdoor space.  During the day I tend to leave it open, allowing them to come and go as they please...until one of them tries to scale the rails and climb down the lilac bush.

Anyway, as it gets into the evening hours, I close the screen door.  Basic observation tells me that bugs like light and as the sun sets, the lamps in my house act as a beacon to any and every flying insect in the great outdoors.  Common sense therefore dictates that we keep the screen door shut.  So why did I have a swarm of insects clinging to my ceiling last night, basking in the radiant light of my lamps?  My lovingly absent-minded professor left the door open.  Can someone tell me why?  I mean, he has a PhD in biology for heaven's sake!  He can probably write a 60-minute lecture that explains in detail why insects are drawn to light.

The only answer I can come up with is they don't teach common sense in grad school and he must not have any room to fit such trivial information in his head anymore.

Perhaps this is the bane of every academic wife....

In my opinion, one of the hardest parts of being in academia can be the location.  Grad  school can take you far away from your family and friends, far away from your cultural comfort zone, and (if you're really unlucky) far away from all signs of civilization.  And that's just the beginning!

Our journey began at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, TN.  There, we did a two year stint before following my husband's advisor to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, MI.  There, we spent 5 1/2 years completing grad school before we found our way Kingston, Ontario for our current post-doctorate position.

*I know it's silly to speak in plural... the kids and I didn't go to grad school, Clay did, but as a family we were all along for the journey.  Besides, he shouldn't get all the credit for those years of hard work.  There was a lot of blood, sweat and tears from the kids and I as well!

Anyway, I have no idea where we're going after our time in Kingston is over.  I have no idea if it will be near family or friends or back in my comfy southeast Michigan mentality.  Heck, I don't even know if it will be on this continent.  Location is the bane of my existence.  

(I admit I like to watch job opportunities pop-up in Clay's email.  They're like little shiny beacons of hope with the words "faculty position" practically jumping off the screen at me.  I like to read the position descriptions and wistfully day-dream of what it would be like for us to have a steady job with no moving vans in our foreseeable future.  Ahhhhh... no more moving... what a blissful thought....)

Planning a vacation with an academic is always interesting since academics never really go on vacation.  Sure, colleges and universities all over the world have a "summer vacation", but in academic speak the term "summer vacation" just translates to "field season" or "uninterrupted work hours".  Academics (and the schools that employ them) view summer as a time when they can get some real work done - it's time for manuscripts to be written, experiments to be run, and papers to be published. 

This is the mentality I do battle with every time the magical phrase "family vacation" is the topic of conversation.  I know first hand the difficulty of trying to pry an academic away from work, especially when he feels like he needs to be working.  It's something that every academic couple/family has to deal with and it never gets easier.  In fact, I know academic couples/families that plan their vacations around conferences or research trips just so they can go on vacation.  It's the sad state of our lot.

Anyway, this year there was much debate about when and where and what we could afford.  Finally, we settled on a trip back to Michigan for a week before leaving our kids there with their grandparents for another week.  Honestly, the relatively cheap cost and promising allure of having a whole week of no kids was enough to sell me.  So, I spent all of last week preparing our little family to go on vacation because that's how it works in our house.  Clay keeps working, and I get us ready to go.  I have a well rehearsed routine of making lists and doing laundry, organizing and packing.  Usually, I'm a well oiled machine, but add two children home for summer vacation and my house looked like a cyclone hit it.

Clay, or course, had a list of his own that  included his laptop and papers to read.  And once again I realize that you can take the academic away from work, but you can't really stop him from working.  Clay is alway presenting us with this challenge, but I have no doubt that the kids and I will rise to the occasion.  Honestly, it's part of the fun.  We will do our best to keep him from working and if an intellectual storm hits him, I won't begrudge him his moment.