It’s been nearly 9 months since D-man joined the family.

In the time since the day we met face to face in the hospital a lot has stayed the same & a lot has changed. One the biggest changes is I am no longer in school. Today I picked up my cap & gown for the formality of graduation, but officially I was done the day I defended. While heading home with D-man in tow & preparing to get the elder children at their various school times I realized that the last part of my writing, getting it ready for defense, took roughly the same amount of time as my pregnancies, 9 months. It involved a lot of sacrifice and hard labor.

Only I don’t have the afterglow of having a baby.

There is nothing to cuddle when you finish a dissertation. Because trust me cuddling a bunch of paper is not as much fun as a new baby. For one paper doesn’t have that new baby smell, that smell you snuggle in closer to get. It’s like breathing in rainbows. And secondly, the paper isn’t warm, with the softest skin that has a soft fuzziness to it as if you wrapped up sunshine in a layer of cotton candy. Instead it’s paper, it is bland & gives you paper cuts if you try to cuddle with it. Not that I have but if I did try to cuddle my dissertation then I’d have this piece of wisdom babies win hands down in the cuddling & rainbows department.

The other day I arrived in my Department, after feeling that my nerves were going to push me over the edge. That edge where you fall into an abyss of random definitions and information floating around your head but none of it makes ANY SENSE AT ALL!! ALL morning long & by all morning I mean ALL MORNING. Because “the time” had arrived. It was time to defend my dissertation, the long road was ending.

I met with my adviser before the big event started. My adviser gave me great advice, reminding me that I wouldn’t have made it to this point if I wasn’t ready. Darn logical reasoning. Of course my husband had told me the same thing. In fact, he told me about a MILLION times that morning alone. But what does he know? He has to tell me those things, it was in our vows. I believe right after the line that went something to the affect of “And always tell you that your butt looks great in those pants.”

Then it was time to make my way around the hall and into the room. Oh, “the room” that sounds ominous doesn’t it? Like I was on a walk toward the execution chamber, you know “the room.” But it wasn’t that intense. Unless power point is like a slow death.

Then the rest of the committee arrived & there were actually audience members. Which I have to admit was SO WONDERFUL!! To have people from my Department, fellow students, show up to support me was just amazing. Definitely helped put my nerves at ease.

The process itself took about an hour & 1/2. It was pretty smooth. I didn’t throw up, randomly fall over into an abyss of random definitions or information and I didn’t pass out from the sheer magnitude of having to actually sound coherent after not sleeping for the last 2 nights. Thank goodness for kids who decide to NOT sleep right before a big moment like your dissertation defense, eh? What would I have done without that lack of sleep?

My committee did ask challenging questions, but they were fair questions. I was prepared for them, I know my research back & forth, nothing was asked that was too left field even if they did challenge me to push myself further. I can honestly write that I respect my committee immensely & I appreciate the support they gave me throughout the dissertation process.

Except I’m going to admit it was a little anti-climatic when all was said & done. Yea, I finished & it’s official but still I was hoping for something a little bit more. Really, when I think about it a little more, I blame the 80s for the let-down.

See, I was hoping that at some point I would have been forced to show who I was in a dance off. I even thought it out ahead of time. It would start with me being told “You don’t belong here. This place isn’t made to accept people like you.” Then, I’d have to prove them wrong. You know, like Electric Boogaloo style, prove to the world I DO belong. I then would rip off the sleeves of my shirt or my shirt would magically go all off shoulder ala Jennifer Beal in FlashDance & then off stage music would play. As the music starts & my sassy style was front & center I’d express myself in street meets ivory tower dance moves.

But alas that never happened. Instead everyone was nice, I knew my work (I mean after all it’s MY work), and I passed. When I got home I received a balloon & a very lovely card at the front door from my husband and kids, along with lots of hugs & kisses. That did kind of make up for the lack of a dance off. It’s a really nice balloon after all.

What can I say? Except thanks for the love & support, now feel free to call me Dr. Mommy.

I have writer’s block. But it’s not blogging that I’m struggling with. Instead it’s my dissertation. I have a real deadline of having everything done by this August, I’m 5 chapters down out of 8. And it’s a firm deadline because money is on the line if I don’t make it.

Any feedback on how to break writer’s block? And perhaps some ideas on how to structure writing time?

I can use all the help I can get. I have gotten this far & am so close.

Last night I left the house for 2 hours to write since my real deadline is fast approaching. I have tried to write more at home but I find all the running around in circles screaming is distracting. How I am supposed to write if I’m running?

Hubby told me to get out, take the time, & decompress. He felt like I might be losing my mind & if I needed to write I needed to leave. He knew I wouldn’t go without a reason & with needing to finish being my reason that I would go. It’s sad that I don’t just take time to take it, instead I need a reason. I’m such a mom.

I hate it when he is right. But I realized he was. It turns out on this one it’s true I needed to get a couple of hours to myself.

I’m not sure what tipped me off that he was right. The jumping up & down on the way to van like a guest at the Oprah show getting a free car shouting “I’m free!! Freedom, Sweet, Freedom!!!!” Or if it was the fact that I thought about not even writing but just sitting there staring at the wall & enjoying the fact that I couldn’t hear anyone shouting“Stop! MOOOOOOOOM! He’s touching me!! Make him stop!!!!!” Or what happened while I was at the bookstore.

While at the bookstore I set up camp in the coffee shop. Got myself a nice frilly coffee drink that cost me a spare kidney & got to work. Only to spill my overly priced drink in my lap. I started to clean myself up. Hoping no one was looking to see the disaster all over me.

Then I realized that people at other tables were staring at me. I thought it was just because I had a giant wet mark running down the front me & nicely positioned in the center of my lap. I realized quickly though that they were staring at me not because I soaked but because I was talking to myself. “Oh, that’s alright. Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’ll get that cleaned up.”

Yes, I was mommy talking to MYSELF! Not a quiet kind of talking to myself either. Oh no, it was loud enough that the people at the surrounding tables could hear me. Some just stared mouths wide open as the crazy lady. Others giggled at my social faux pas. And one woman gave me a smile with a knowing nod because I’m pretty sure she was also hiding in the bookstore. At least I wasn’t the only one or that’s what I told myself to cover the embarrassment.

Hubby is right I do need to get out more often without the kids.