[Fiction] Twenty-Five Years of Submissions to My Favourite Dubious Advice Podcast

 I've been listening to a lot of Dear Hank and John so inevitably keep thinking about what I would ask, but as "*gestures at everything* help?" wouldn't make a great question, I decided to write a story instead.

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Dear Hank and John, there's a really cute girl in my quantum mechanics lectures and I kind of want to ask her out but everytime she even looks at me I just forget how to form human words. Heeyyelp?

Dear Hank and John. What are some good second date ideas?

Dear Hank and John, how do you decide on a phd topic? I've wanted to be some form of scientist since I was very young and decided to study mathematics and theoretical physics at university - I figured by the time came to do a PhD I would have an idea of what I found interesting and what I might be good at but the problem is...everything is kind of interesting? And finding something new, something genuinely new that no-one else has ever done before (which is what you need for phd) seems way to big and scary. Obviously I'm getting lots of advice from my supervisor and other researchers but I'm worried that whatever I choose I'm going end up stuck trying to make progress on for the next few years and what if I get it wrong? Am I making a terrible mistake and should I just go get a job instead? Any dubious advice is greatly welcomed.

Dear Hank and John, is a Batman themed wedding a terrible idea? My fiancée and I have been engaged for just over a year now and what started as a joke became a serious plan as we looked up ideas for accessories to add to our clothes, themed cocktails and food, invitation designs etc. We're both pretty psyched about the whole thing but my parents are convinced we're joking. I don't know how to convince them we're not, and I'm starting to wonder whether they'll just refuse to come if they find out we're really going ahead with it. 

Dear Hank and John - thank you so much for answering my question about the Bat-wedding! Just to update you, we talked to my parents and it turns out my mum thought we were going to be wearing full cos-play rather than just, you know, taking a few photos wearing masks etc. When we explained that no, my fiancée would be wearing a dress, I would be wearing a suit, they came on board with the whole idea and ended up having a great time. Attached are some pics from the big day. 

Dear Hank and John. I'm going to become a parent. I'M GOING TO BECOME A PARENT. AAAARGHHHHH!!!!!!!! HOW DO YOU BRING UP A WHOLE HUMAN BEING??!!!

Dear Hank and John,  do you think there'll be long-term consequences for all the babies and children growing up under lockdown? I understand why we need to stay isolated and try and get this worrying disease under control, but I'm worried about my little girl, as she hasn't really been able to interact with anyone other than her parents. At first I suppose that didn't really matter because she was so small and we were just trying to get used to having a baby and meeting her basic needs, but she's growing so quickly now and it feels like this isolation is going on for a lot longer than we thought it would. Will she just totally freak out if someone other than us picks her up? What if this goes on for years and she doesn't get to meet kids her own age? Sorry, I guess that's unlikely. The uncertainty is getting to me.

Dear Hank and John - what do babies dream about?

Dear Hank and John, so I'm finishing off my phd and I have to start looking for jobs (and probably should have started some time ago) but I don't really know what work I want to do? I don't want to stay in academia, partly because I'm just burned out but also because it's so hard to find a permanent position and it seems unfair on my family to uproot them every two to three years as I chase postdoc places around the country. I just can't imagine what else I might be good at though, and every time I look at vacancies nothing leaps out at me as being interesting or, frankly, doable. Do I even have marketable skills? I'm a mathematician, but I can't do statistics or much coding and have pretty severe social anxiety which rules out a lot of jobs. What is there left? 

Dear Hank and John, how do you pick a name for your second child - it took us long enough to decide on the first one! If it's a boy, we're fine, because we have the unused boy's name from our first child, but we already used up our favourite name for a girl. Suggestions welcome.

Dear Hank and John, how does my four-year-old know more dinosaurs than me? Do all children go through a dinosaur phase? What's your favourite dinosaur?

Dear Hank and John, when is it ok to give up on things? Obviously just abandoning something as soon as it gets hard is not a good way to get better at doing that thing, and I do get that sometimes things that are hard are worth perservering with. But when you've been trying and failing to do the same thing repeatedly does there become a point when continuing is just creating misery for yourself? How do I give myself permission to accept there are some things I just won't be able to do?

Dear Hank and John, why are there swear words? Did we just decide as a society that some words are...bad? And if so, why?! Thinking of this as I desperately try not to accidentally teach my two-year-old swears....

Dear Hank and John, does my dog *really* understand what I'm saying?

Dear Hank-sorry, Dear John and Hank, so here's a weird situation. The window cleaner left a ladder down the side of our house, presumably by accident, but he hasn't been back to collect it and we have no way of contacting him. It's been three weeks. Do we just own a ladder now?!

Dear John and Hank, at the end of job interviews when they ask if you have any questions for them, what are you supposed to ask? All the advice I've read suggests you should ask, like details about the job or the facilities but not things like how soon you can book vacation or whatever. But...actually all the interviews I've been to have been pretty upfront about everything I would possibly want to know. The advert usually states expected start date and what the job will entail, they usually give a tour of the office so I know where I'd be sitting etc. But not asking anything makes it seem like you're uninterested apparently?! What am I supposed to do?

Dear John and Hank, HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO F***ING IRON FITTED F***ING SHEETS? Or should I just not bother?

Dear John and Hank, what the heck happened to the AI revolution? Weren't we all supposed to be out of jobs by now?

Dear John and Hank, how much salt is "a pinch"? 

Dear John and Hank, why are teenagers? Just why? Was I this awful at that age? Should I go and apologise to my parents right now?

Dear John and Hank, I've been trying to "get fit" and have taken up running and...it's kind of just awful. I've heard other people talk about how good they feel after a workout etc but I just feel exhausted and, at best, relieved it's over. Am I doing it wrong? Do I need to be running harder or for longer? Or does not everyone get that "runner's high"?

Dear John and Hank, did you really think you'd still be doing this podcast now when you first started? Do you have a favourite episode or are there just too many to keep track of?

Dear John and Hank, what can I do as a parent to help my child with exam stress? She seems to be having a much harder time than I did, maybe because I was weird and actually enjoyed exams, or maybe because there's just so much more pressure on kids these days. I'm really worried, and no matter how much I try to reassure her that things will be ok regardless of how well or badly she does, she just seems to be getting more stressed. What can I do to help?

Dear John and Hank, wait - Americans don't use the word "fortnight"?!

Dear John and Hank, what's a polite way to tell people you don't want to "get over it" or "get through it" and maybe they shouldn't assume there is some kind of normal you can get back to. Like, actually, some things have changed forever, and we should acknowledge that. 

Dear John and Hank, what do you do when you feel like your life is...kind of over. My partner died last year, my kids are mostly grown up, my job is...ok. I don't have any real ambitions any more because any I did have I put aside to concentrate on my family and now just don't mean the same to me. I'm not the same person I was twenty, twenty five years ago, which was the last time I was by myself and I'm not sure what I want from life now. It all feels a bit pointless. I know i have friends and family that still care about me, it's not like I'm feelling suicidal, I just don't know what I'm supposed to *do* now. What is the point the life?

Reflections and Resolutions

I often try and avoid making New Year Resolutions. They never last and often I end up feeling worse for not having stuck with them. Last year, I resolved simply to be a better mother, and a better pseudo-wife. Which of course is the worst sort of resolution - one without any clear definition, meaning you can always feel as though you should have done more and never quite have the satisfaction of reaching a goal.

I suspect many people (and certainly the two people whose opinions most count in these matters) would argue that I've always been a good mother and a good pseudo-wife and so I don't really need to get "better", but I always feel there is room for improvement. And I guess lately, at least, I've been doing pretty well at both of these, as well as the cutting down on snacking, and getting more exercise thing. So for 2009 I'm going to be brave and set out a more definite plan, with some hopefully very achievable goals:

1. Keep up the jogging. It's fallen by the wayside slightly over the school holidays, but I should get back into the habit of going out 2-3 mornings a week for half an hour or so. Both the exercise and the fresh air will do me good, and it should put me in the right frame of mind to settle down to work afterwards.


2. Keep up the Wii Fit. My goal of a BMI < 25 is within sight - Christmas festivites notwithstanding. If I manage to get daily muscle and yoga workouts I should do a better job of slimming down this waist, and maybe even fitting into those jeans again.


3. De-clutter the house. I really mean it this time. Ok, we're still putting off making a final Big Decision about whether to ever have another child, and a lot of the "junk" lying around isn't mine so I can't unilaterally decide to throw it out (or I suppose I can, but I'd feel bad doing so), but there is still a lot of things I do have say over and thanks to Christmas having been bought mostly online, I have lots of cardboard boxes for storage purposes. Bit by bit, I will do this, and hopefully this time it will stay tidier.


4. Finish my thesis. I have a deadline, after all.


5. Spend time with my son. Play with him, talk to him, encourage him to do his reading and help with household chores - anything and everything except make him feel like I don't want him to bother me. I've been trying, but I need to try harder. I don't want most of our conversations to be arguments and while he's going through a very stubborn patch and obviously still needs to learn to do as he is told, I need to give a little too and try and be less selfish about my time.


6. Spend time with my SO. Just the two of us. We have friends and family who are willing to babysit, we need to start asking them more instead of feeling guilty about it. Mummy and Daddy need alone time too. If we can get out for one evening a month or so, that'd be great.


7. Write. Not just my thesis obviously. Maybe short stories, maybe plot for game, emails to people I rarely speak to, even just this blog...I don't think I've ever actually mentioned any mathematics on here despite the description, so obviously that should change. If I can find something interesting to say and spend a short amount of time once or twice a week to write it down - book reviews, comments on news, a bit of maths or whatever bogus-philosophical puzzle that has been occupying my mind - anything. I just need to write. It's good practice, and I need to break out of my fear of doing things badly, which means I have to just go ahead and do things. And writing is a fairly safe one.

So that's it. If you follow this blog maybe you'll be able to keep track of how well I do (especially on the last one) and maybe poke me occasionally to remind me. And no doubt this time next year I'll come back and go, "huh, I did pretty rubbish at all that didn't I?" But I've got a whole year...

Here's to 2009. Hope it's a good one for all of you.

Fun with Hospitals

Some days just don't go according to plan.

Yesterday, the Terror went to the dentist for his last filling. It was bigger than the previous ones, so they gave him some local anaesthetic. The dental hygienist doing it had to stop him from chomping on his cheek a few times and warned us to look out for him doing that - apparently lots of children do because it feels funny when it's numb. He was brilliant as ever with the actual procedure, and we warned him lots against biting himself as it would really really hurt when the anaesthetic wore off.

Of course, within minutes of getting him home, he'd bitten himself and drawn blood. I spent the remainder of the day stopping him from prodding it any more, and Calpol and cuddles were necessary when it inevitably started to hurt.

This morning, his bottom lip and inside of cheek were slightly swollen and there appeared to be lots of scar tissue forming. We concluded he'd been chewing on it overnight, but as he didn't appear to be in pain and we couldn't think of any way of cleaning the wound, we took him to school. Within an hour, Daddy got a phone call saying he's complained about his mouth and it seemed to be worse and oozing pus so he ran off to collect him. I caught up with them just after they'd left the GP's surgery not having been able to get an appointment before tomorrow, and we went home, got the car and drove to the Walk-in Centre.

And waited for about an hour and a half. We got pretty fed up of reading books to him. He played a bit, and had some of his packed lunch but started to get very restless and wanting to go home. The nurse practitioner who saw us was audibly shocked by how large and yucky the wound was, and suspecting an abscess, contacted the hospital who agreed to admit him straight away. So off we trundled to York District Hospital, Ward 17. The Terror complained a little, but we explained that the doctors needed to clean his mouth and give him medicine to make it better, and once we got there he settled down, chatted with the friendly nurse, and got us yet more books to read to him. Eventually he was assigned a bed and let loose in the play area. He pretty much didn't stop from then on, and unfortunately always required at least one of us to be playing with him.

When the consultant finally managed to see him, he was impressed by how well and cheerful he seemed. And, rather anticlimactically, he decided nothing really needed to be done. It doesn't actually appear to be infected, just swollen. So he prescribed us antibiotics. Which we had to wait for.

The Terror was rather happy to spend the afternoon playing with all the different toys, and we were admittedly relieved it turned out to be nothing serious after all. But it was a whole day spent, mostly sitting around, when Daddy at least had work that he ought to have been doing. On the plus side, the Terror did end up getting his tea at the hospital. On the downside, he missed his Christmas party at school.

And now he's taking time to settle, when we are both shattered, and I still have to make a start on marking. At least I have a glass of nice wine to help me along...