Dr. Mama

Dear Mathilda,

It's been almost 2 weeks since I finished school forever. As we were planning where to send you for pre-school, kindergarten, and elementary school, I was putting the finishing touches on my dissertation- marking the end of 22.5 years of near-continuous education.

I think I decided to pursue a Ph.D. in the Spring of 2001. I was in the midst of a dark year. All of which involve stories you will learn slowly over the next 5, 10, 25 years. At the time, I decided that if I was going to turn my back on my first dream career, then I would be the best at my second. The best meant a Ph.D.

So here we are, over a decade later. I'm wearing my "interview suit," you're wearing your Christmas dress. We're driving to "Mommy's school" listening to a mix tape of empowering music, Florence & the Machine, Marina & the Diamonds, "Maria & the kids." I'm not as nervous as I was last night. I almost sent you to daycare, instead of having you wait for hours in the hall with Daddy while I presented, then defended, 4.5 years of work. But we decided that you should be there. Your Daddy especially wanted to make sure you were a part of the finale, as you had been such a part of the work.

My mom- your Mimom- taught me that I had to always be able to take care of myself, that I could do anything, and that she was proud of me. When I learned I was having a girl, I was filled with excitement over the opportunity to show you the world and teach you about being a woman in the 21st century. Show you that you can wear pink sequins, and go to space camp, and love cooking, and hate makeup, and want to go to the dinosaur museum, and play the saxophone, and vote, and live where ever you want, and love whomever you please. It is all going to happen for you.

So the day I handed in my dissertation, my advisor cried, and someone called me "doctor" for the first time, you were there. You won't remember it. We took pictures of you, sitting at a desk, looking at a textbook, laughing. I want you to look at those photos in the future and I want you to be proud of me. I know there will be days when I'm not around as much as you or I or Daddy wish I was. Days when I work on a Saturday morning or a Monday night. Just like there were days during my doctoral education when Daddy did drop-off and pick-up, and dinner, and bedtime. But I pomise you, you're my girl, my mini-me, the most important thing in my life. Ever. I am so proud to have my Ph.D., and proud of the work I've done and the work I hope to do. I'm proud to show you what a woman can do- a career, a family, a child. But I am even more proud of you, of being your mama. The Ph.D. is great, but you are greater. The greatest. I love you.

Mommy

from my wonderful colleagues

flowers from my mom