Next

I've started telling people that I'm going to graduate in the spring. If some kind of disaster strikes, like if I'm diagnosed with cancer next week or my husband runs off to live in Ixtapa with one of the interns, then I may curse my optimism. But I'm feeling confident enough that when people ask me how school is going, I tell them I should be done soon.

What they are supposed to say is, "Hey, that's great! What an accomplishment, finishing a PhD with five kids." Then I'm supposed to smile a satisfied but still modest smile and scuff my toe in the dirt.

What they could also consider saying is, "How's your dissertation coming together? I've always heard that last stage is tough." Then I could allow as to how it is pretty tough, between my recalcitrant stats program and the baby whose mission in life is to stuff into her mouth every choking hazard she can find.

What they actually say is, "What will you do next?" And I don't know yet.

I've been pretty calm about the whole thing, because I believe that God has a plan for me. I felt called into this program and I don't need to know the next step just yet. That, however, is a conversation I'm more likely to have with a good friend than with some random parent at soccer practice.

I have been hoping that something would open up at the university in my neighborhood, but I just didn't know how likely that was. I've been telling people that I would apply for a half-time post-doc that's based an hour away. I figured I could spend one long day on campus and work from home the rest of the time. I could also return to clinical work, even though that's not my favorite idea.

Today in between subsetting my data and making more pretty tables for chapter 3 of my dissertation, I looked at the faculty openings for the university in my neighborhood. There's nothing in the department that trains SLPs, but there are three tenure-track openings in a closely related department. On paper, at least, I have all the qualifications they're looking for.

No heavenly lights beamed down to spell out, "This is it, Jamie -- it's what you've been preparing for." I'm not sure if I should pursue a full-time appointment when baby Stella will still just be toddler Stella. (The department is a five-minute walk from my house, though, and I'm pretty sure a full-time load would be two courses per semester.)  

I'm going to apply, I think, and we'll see what happens next.