Teen SciMom

I have read some wonderful posts on being or not being a Science Mom (SciMom) over at Labspaces.net, especially those by Jade, and Dr. Girlfriend. I felt I should tell my story.

On Being a  Teen SciMom…

I am 30 years old, and I have an almost 12 year old daughter.  Anyone with a remedial amount of math training can figure that out.  The solution to this simple equation can yield any number of responses: disgust, confusion, empathy.  I have to say these reactions are much kinder now that I have my PhD, and I work at a national lab.  It was not always so…

                I love my daughter more than I can fathom. I know this sounds so cliché, but it is so true.  I had never ever thought about having a kid, and it was never something I dreamed about.  I never considered myself the mother type. I had big ambitions, and as a smart girl, I had never considered myself attractive, so the whole romance thing wasn’t on my radar.  So when a guy thought I was pretty, I was taken by surprise, and well, we know how these things happen…I was freshly graduated out of high-school, going to my second choice college, miserable and pregnant.  Not so much miserable about the pregranancy, more about the college.  Being pregnant gave me the chutzpah to drop out of the collge I hated and to make a plan to go to the school I wanted to go to.  I enrolled in the local community college, which offered affordable child care, and I completed my transfer requirements for chemistry.  I remember the dubious looks people would give me when I was bringing my daughter to study groups.  They seemed to have labeled me as a failure even before I opened my mouth.  I would bite my toungue and work twice as hard. When other students complained about how hectic their lives were, I would bite my tongue harder.  Once I transferred to the university, I continued to work 24 hrs a week up until I graduated with my bachelors.

                Choosing a grad school for me was simple- I really couldn’t easily move, and I enjoyed the research of the faculty at my current university. I was told this was a damning career choice, and that I would probably have a hard time finding a job, even before I had chosen a specialty.  I ignored them.  They didn’t understand my reality- my family was my daycare, and the grad student stipend would not be enough to feed us and pay for child care in a distant city.  I pushed on, and interviewed with faculty.  Most were unabashed slave drivers- expecting 60 hr weeks or more.  I knew that wouldn’t fly.  I interviewed one prof who specialized in crystallography. She explained the technique, and showed me around her lab, and we talked.  She had been a mother in grad school, she explained, and she remembered how hard it could be.  She asked me if I wanted to work for her, I said “ Can I??” I know that my success has everything to do with having a mentor that understood the pressures I was facing.  It sure didn’t hurt that I could do crystallography from anywhere, once I had the raw data in hand.

                So many people thought my potential was lost once I was pregnant.   I knew that my daughter was a gift.  I saw all the “adults” around me terrified for me. I refused to give in to their pleadings about my life being ruined, because of this new life I was carrying. They didn’t realize my capacity for stubbornness, and tenacity. I suppose I became a parent because no one believed I could do it and succeed at my other goals. I knew I could.  I wavered at times, but I continued to believe in me. So, here I am , scientist, mother, equestrian, in no special order. The rest is pretty much history, I got a PhD, I am doing what I love at an awesome lab.  My PhD mentor is my second mom, and I owe so much to her.  My daughter is going into seventh grade this fall, she was entering kindergarten when I started my PhD.  I won’t lie, being a mother is no joke.  And it is certainly not for everyone. Some days I wonder if it is for me.  People love to drag on about how motherhood teaches you patience, and kindness. Well, I am sure you could learn those same skills elsewhere- I am sure crystallography and my horses have taught me loads about both. But in the end, life is not about what cards you are dealt, It is about how you take those cards and turn them into a winning hand.  I have an awesome kid, a fantastic boyfriend, three wonderful horses, a cat and a fulfilling career.  Winning hand, for sure!

To Be or Not to Be In a Lesson on a Weekday....

First off, I love the barn where I board the fourlegged kids. It is a wonderful place to keep horses. There is really only one issue that seems to have reared it's ugly head again, and it is the issue of "Weekday Evening Lessons." There is one larger covered arena, a very small indoor arena, and an oudoor arena that is currenty undoergoing it's winter swamp phase. Essentially there is one place for everyone to ride, with the small indoor only really suitable for longeing. It can get really chaotic in the covered arena in the evenings after everyone gets off work.  Due to this chaos, a rule was instated that lessons were not to happen from 4-7PM.

The theoretical pros of this rule:

• No more group lessons clogging up the arena.
• No lesson riders needing the rail, the jump, the quarter line, etc, so potentially better arena flow
• Potentially fewer riders in the arena.

The theoretical cons of this rule

• Difficult for children to have lessons on weeknights, due to only later lesson slots
• People who are day shift workers (i.e. 9-5) will find it difficult to take weekday lessons
• Could produce a glut of weekend lessons, and 7PM weekday evening lessons.
• Could dissuade riders from continuing their equestrian education.

My personal experience has been that this rule has eliminated my weekday lessons, and that makes me pretty sad. I have converted to Saturday lessons, and I am now part of a parade of lessons. I still ride during the week, and usually during the no-lesson window. The arena is usually pretty empty; maybe one or two riders with me usually.

So my question is, could this rule be amended to better serve all members of the population? I am sure that if one or two nights a week, lessons were permitted, the strain on the weekends would be lessened. And maybe if certain types of lessons were permitted only in the small indoor, e.g., lead line and longe line lessons.  Unleashing beginner children into a large busy arena is probably something that should be avoided at any cost anyways.  Competent children who can negotiate traffic safely are a different matter.

I would like to hear of compromises, because I think many are out there. I think that everyone should be encouraged to ride with a trainer, and any policy that has the effect of making ignorance bliss should be adjusted accordingly.

Science getting in the way of life, and vice versa

Sorry it has been so long between posts...even my boss is complaining!

I have been up to my eyeballs in "science" meaning the stuff you do to dress up and publicize your work, when important people are watching.  My real science has been waiting patiently on the back burner, hoping that I will be able to attend to it soon.

My current "science" project is attending a national meeting in Anaheim. Yes Disneyland. Going there tomorrow, today was spent at talks...

More specifically a symposium dedicated to one of my mentors, who has won a presitigious award. He helped put together a fantasy league of a session. Great talks, all day, mostly on topics that I adore.This session was also striking for another reason.

Life doesn't always yeild to the rigors or our work. Life says No. One of the most moving talks was given by a recently bereaved husband, for his wife.  He gushed with enthusiasm for the excellence of his late wife's work, and when he reached the last slide, there was a collective intake of breath as he hesitated, as if saying goodbye all over again. His love for his wife and his love for their work was so beautiful, and so touching.

A good friend of mine was giving a retrospective talk, later on in this same session, and he reached a crystal structure that he has collaborated on with a good friend, who had since passed.  There was another pause, as if the whole audience and the speaker were all giving a collective moment of silence. It was a poignant reminder that our science , our discoveries and triumps, will live on in the minds of those who carry on, and those who follow after.

Scientists are often portrayed, in the media and entertainment realms,  as cold and removed characters, who have no feelings for theri common man. The palpable emotion and humanity today destroyed any vestige of that fallacy.

I will have more from the lovely OC, I promise.

Cheers.

Mom's Chili- Whose Mom, I don't know...

This is a recipe from my sister's friend. I fgured I would share it, because it is amazingly simple and wonderful. Bonne chance!

Mom’s Chili (Not sure who Mom is)

1 can (28oz) Crushed Tomatoes

1 can (14.5oz) Petit Diced Tomatoes

1 can (15oz) Chili Beans

2 cans (15.25oz) Kidney Beans (drained)

1 can (7oz) Diced Green Chilies

15.25oz Whole Kernel Corn (drained)

1 packet Buttermilk Recipe Ranch Dressing Mix

1 packet Taco Seasoning

~1lb Ground Turkey

1 yellow/white onion (baseball sized)

Cup of water

Optional: butter or olive oil

Combine the canned ingredients ( for this, I hope you have a much more awesome can opener than I do. Mine sucks, therefore, I consider making this recipe pretty hard core) into your large pot or slow cooker. If you are using a Crock Pot, I set it up for 3 hrs on High at this point. In a separate, fairly large frying pan, sauté the onions to slight brownness; I do this in a little olive oil or butter, but they seem to do okay without, if you are trying to be healthy.  Add turkey to the frying pan, and brown. (Not sure why we call it browning, since really turkey goes more white first, then slightly golden if you push it, oh well) Once there is no more raw turkey visible, add the Ranch dressing packet and the taco seasoning packet. Mix meat , onions and mixes together thoroughly  then transfer to pot/slow cooker.  Use the one cup of water to wash the frying pan out, and transfer all the wonderful goodness to the main pot/slow cooker. If you are using a pot, simmer for a couple hours.  I like the Crock Pot, because I turn it on, and go riding!

Enjoy!

Beamtime, lovely beamtime

I mention beamlines, beamtime, and all things having to do with beams constantly. I suppose it would be good to clarify what the hell I am talking about…

I work in a synchrotron. It is a grandson of the cyclotron, which was a circular particle accelerator and collider.  Synchrotrons became useful because of the revelation  that electrons produce electromagnetic radiation when they are made to turn a  corner.  This radial deceleration results in energy lost in the form of light.  I recommend you read here, here and here to learn more about synchrotrons, because I am a chemist, not a physicist and am therefore not the best reference.



It was a grad student who actually observed this with his eyes. Poor guy!



 Synchrotrons run on a 24hr/7day a week schedule. Electrons are constantly being accelerated and  shoved out into the storage ring, to do their job of cornering, losing energy, and producing photons.  Preferably X-ray photons.

This is where the beamlines come in. Beamlines are how the light gets from the synchrotron to the experimental sample. With UV, vacuum UV and Soft X-rays, the beamline is usually under high vacuum, and includes focusing  and monochromating optics of many types. In the case of X-rays, the beamline is also what keeps the X-rays from irradiating you, with selective placement of lead.  The beamline I use is a hard X-ray beamline, so there is a lead-lined shed at the end, called a hutch. Inside the hutch is where the magic happens. Probably a whole other post.  During my beamtime, my world revolves around a lead lined shed and it’s expensive contents, a microscope, a couple computers and somebody else’s potentially very interesting, but probably infuriating samples. What more could I want, right?

So flash back to this week: I currently have two collaborators who are on my back for results (NOW!!!!).  So what did I do this week? What did I accomplish? I collected data, and helped others collect data. I have spent the majority of the last week sitting at a desk surrounded by the bedlam hum of mechanical work.  I can tell the difference between a turbo pump spinning and a roughing pump coughing.  I can hear undulator gaps changing.  Can I hear my phone ringing? No. The cacophony of a synchrotron is an unbelievable assault on your aural system. At times, you are sure there is music, lurking in the background, on the edge of your strained hearing, but it is really just the motors driving the pitch of that monochromator behind your desk.

On Friday, after spending the majority of the last week on the beamline, I walked out of the building, and ambled towards my car. The soft light of the late afternoon fell on a hushed lab left vacant by fresh snows in the mountains. A flock of juvenile turkeys pecked and scratched at  damp soil under fragrant eucalypts. The peace was revitalizing; having a new lease on life, I drove home to see the horses.

Stall Swap Drama

Oh, how I remember being naive. It was just last year, when I thought, "Jeeze, Young horses must be sooo much easier to tae care of!"

Insert Foot into Mouth Now.

The lovely Gray Mare has been mostly that, lovely. Maybe not very trained, and sometimes very directionally challenged, but mostly, lovely.  But she has not been a very good girl when it comes to being a neigh-bor.  Originally she lived next door to Mickey, the tenderfoot-OTTB baby, whom she enjoyed terrorizing. Mickey would try to drink out of his water bucket, then reel back in horror as he noticed a grey muzzle approaching him, with savage teeth bared!

Since Mickey being dehydrated was not a viable option, a horse home swap was in order.

Step 1. Give Gray Mare a mare neigh-bor.

This arrangment seemed just fine. Friendly Mare, the new neighbor, became quite infatuated with Gray Mare. So much so that we are now sure that Gray Mare is an Equal-Opportunity lover... Lonely Guy  and Friendly Mare were now Gray Mare's herd, and she was the boss. All was well in the world. 

Until Lonely Guy needed stall rest...

Then there was stall rest. Gray Mare is not a very restful neighbor. She enjoys cantering around in her 12x24' stall, especially at meal times. With poor Mr. Lonely Guy needing stall rest, he had plenty of excess energy to inspire Gray Mare to new heights of stall airs-above-the-ground.  I only needed one incident to have a good enough reason to move my Gray Mare, and it came last Thursday, when she was lame and miserable. Her hock was hot and puffy, and she was most displeased when I touched it. She was very displeased when I cold hosed it.  She was not upset when she got three days off, and lovely extra meals with yummy orange flavored powder. Once I was satisfied that it was only a bruise, and she was going to live, the move was clear.

Movin' on up, to the East Side!

So the dust has landed, and so has the Gray Mare. She now lives accross the aisle from her former home, next to an adoring gelding who cries for her when she is out working. She is just a heartbreaker, and she seems pretty happy with that.  Poor Lonely Guy is now, again, Lonely.  Really Friendly Mare keeps giving me sad looks, that say "Why did you move my girlfriend?? I love her!"   See you Next time on "As the Barn Turns..."

And in other news... NASCAR

I love NASCAR.  No suprise to some, maybe to others. I thouroghly enjoyed today's Daytona 500, with a 20 yearold, who nobody had ever heard of before, winning the race. On the drive into work the other day, me and the boyfriend were discussing the differences between F1 and NASCAR. 

In NASCAR, for those of you who may not yet be indoctrinated,  the playing field is very level. Cars are tested, analyzed and made roughly equivalent. Specs are enforced, i.e, engine compression volume, aerodynamic profile, and violators are penalized.  Yes, monied teams have an advantage, and can squeeze out some extra performance, but NASCAR is the American Dream-  anyone can win, even a 20 year-old with Woods Brothers racing.

Now F1 is diferent. The car has to fit into a "box", with fixed dimensions, and it has to use a certain type of engne with a set compression volume. And that is where the similarities end. F1 teams put in millions of dollars to maximize their horsepower and minimize their aero profile, except of course in the corners, where they want to stick to the track with maximum down force.  FIA, F1's organizing body, does not regulate the cars beyond the original specs, so there are two tiers of teams: the rich(factory sponsored) teams, and the poor(er) teams, which also can be described as the fast, winning teams, and the slow, rolling-chicane teams.  I mean really, when did you last hear of the Force India team getting even a podium??  You hear about McLaren-Mercedes, Ferrari, Red Bull.

So our conclusions were as follows: NASCAR embodies the American Dream, because it uses  level playing field approach. F1 enjoys the non-level playing field, because of the  "invisible-hand" type management. So American NASCAR is awesome, because it is more socialist than capitalist European F1.  I think some readnecks in Daytona might kill me for these remarks!