I’ve been thinking a lot about college lately. I just finished a book written by one of my grad school professors and it got me feeling wistful about returning to get my PhD. Since there’s no chance of that happening until The Boy is used to a full school day – when is that? 1st, 2nd grade? – I’ll have to contain my thoughts about academia to getting back to reading like someone who’s vaguely literate, and not like the ditzy, internet obsessed housewife I’ve allowed myself to become for most of the last two years.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade the last two years for anything. My pregnancy and subsequent time with The Boy have been my greatest blessings… ever, but I miss having a life of the mind. I never really took to having a career – office work not really being my forte – but I absolutely loved academia. I got a BA and MA in European History – I love reading about my Russians, wars and ideological intrigue and I miss having that be my job.
Since looking after my beloved Boy is now my job my ability to read, study and comprehend anything is often foiled by demands that I read aloud stuff that’s more appropriate for a one and a half year old. When I began my new year’s plan to read more I did try to read to him some of my material, but I figure if he couldn’t find the adventure of ancient Greeks and Romans interesting then he certainly wasn’t going to pay any attention to what my former professor had to say about playwrights in the former Soviet Union.
That’s fine. We’ve got his whole childhood for him to be annoyed by my geekiness. In the meantime I’ll be content with leaving my dense histories and serious literature to naptime, and I’ll enjoy every second of reading Mother Goose to The Boy countless times a day.
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