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March resolution review
Mar. 31st, 2014 08:45 pmAnother month over, another post on my New Year's Resolution
March's only entry was an invited book chapter, so I was only responsible for about half of it. We overshot our target word count by 1000-2000 words depending on how you count, so of course we got the response right away "cut it down!" Ah well.
I had actually completed another paper in March, and it's all ready to be submitted, but![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zmiya_san and northernotter asked to read it, and so I figure I'll wait to see if they have any comments before I submit it.
Finally, while not listed on this table, I did have a paper submitted middle of August last year that was accepted with minor revisions on the 10th. Whoo! One of my goals for this coming week is working on the revisions, hopefully I can send it back by the end of April.
---
When I first started grad school, one of the things that mystified me was how people came up with ideas. (I think this is a good sign that I wasn't in quite the right field for the first few years.) Now, I have so many ideas, I can't pursue them all. I had one while biking out to pick Gwen up today -- it's something I certainly cannot pursue myself, and I would be amazed if someone hadn't done it already, but I wondered what sort of research has been done on the formation of cause-and-effect relationships and tantruming in small children. I was thinking about when I'd picked Gwen up on Friday. She threw a fit when I told her it was time to go home and this led to a fairly usual occurrence: I tell her it's time to go, she refuses, I try to pick her up, she cries "walk, walk!", I put her down and say "Ok, if you want to walk, go ahead and walk" (in fact I prefer it), she squirms on the ground refusing to walk while screaming "walk, walk!", I usually give her two chances, and then I tell her she's lost her opportunity and I pick her up and carry her. This led to such a tantrum that the promise of getting to jump from the three circles out front (we do this almost every evening) didn't even distract her: I offered twice if she wanted to, she said "nein!" both times, so we didn't, and I put her straight into the bike seat. And then got to bike home with a thrashing toddler who shrieked "jump, jump, jump!" the entire way home. It was a harrowing experience. I told her we could jump again on Monday, but that was, of course, no consolation.
What occurred to me biking out to pick her up was that we had both completely forgotten this come the morning: Not so surprising to me, but for Gwen, who is normally so very sharp at remembering things promised to her, that was unusual! It was like she hadn't remembered the epxerience at all.
And then this led me to realize that whenever I have scolded or reprimanded or even just re-directed Gwen when she's doing something she shouldn't, it usually takes just once, and she internalizes the stricture and repeats it back to me regularly:
And yet, we have had the "if you say you want to walk, then you must walk, if you say 'walk, walk' and don't, you'll only get 2 or max 3 chances before I pick you up and haul you" routine a number of times, and the cause-and-effect hasn't seemed to have sunk in at all. The fact that she apparently hadn't remembered the promise I made her in the middle of such a tantrum made me think: I wonder what effect on the formation of cause-and-effect relations being in tantrum-mode has. It certainly wouldn't surprise me at all if there was something in the brain where one of the consequences of being in tantrum-mode was the diminishment of the ability to understand consequences. This isn't a hypothesis I'm in any capacity to investigate, but I bet someone has, and if not, someone should!
| Title | Submitted | Revision requested | Resubmitted | Accepted |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| "The Logic of Categorematic and Syncategorematic Infinity" | 14 January 2014 | |||
| "Medieval Destinations: Lumbini" | 28 January 2014 | 18 February 2014 | ||
| "Reasoning About Obligations in Obligationes: A Formal Approach" | 27 February 2014 (abstract only) | |||
| "Obligationes" (with Catarina Dutilh Novaes) | 27 March 2014 | 28 March 2014 | /td> |
March's only entry was an invited book chapter, so I was only responsible for about half of it. We overshot our target word count by 1000-2000 words depending on how you count, so of course we got the response right away "cut it down!" Ah well.
I had actually completed another paper in March, and it's all ready to be submitted, but
zmiya_san and northernotter asked to read it, and so I figure I'll wait to see if they have any comments before I submit it.Finally, while not listed on this table, I did have a paper submitted middle of August last year that was accepted with minor revisions on the 10th. Whoo! One of my goals for this coming week is working on the revisions, hopefully I can send it back by the end of April.
---
When I first started grad school, one of the things that mystified me was how people came up with ideas. (I think this is a good sign that I wasn't in quite the right field for the first few years.) Now, I have so many ideas, I can't pursue them all. I had one while biking out to pick Gwen up today -- it's something I certainly cannot pursue myself, and I would be amazed if someone hadn't done it already, but I wondered what sort of research has been done on the formation of cause-and-effect relationships and tantruming in small children. I was thinking about when I'd picked Gwen up on Friday. She threw a fit when I told her it was time to go home and this led to a fairly usual occurrence: I tell her it's time to go, she refuses, I try to pick her up, she cries "walk, walk!", I put her down and say "Ok, if you want to walk, go ahead and walk" (in fact I prefer it), she squirms on the ground refusing to walk while screaming "walk, walk!", I usually give her two chances, and then I tell her she's lost her opportunity and I pick her up and carry her. This led to such a tantrum that the promise of getting to jump from the three circles out front (we do this almost every evening) didn't even distract her: I offered twice if she wanted to, she said "nein!" both times, so we didn't, and I put her straight into the bike seat. And then got to bike home with a thrashing toddler who shrieked "jump, jump, jump!" the entire way home. It was a harrowing experience. I told her we could jump again on Monday, but that was, of course, no consolation.
What occurred to me biking out to pick her up was that we had both completely forgotten this come the morning: Not so surprising to me, but for Gwen, who is normally so very sharp at remembering things promised to her, that was unusual! It was like she hadn't remembered the epxerience at all.
And then this led me to realize that whenever I have scolded or reprimanded or even just re-directed Gwen when she's doing something she shouldn't, it usually takes just once, and she internalizes the stricture and repeats it back to me regularly:
- we were at the park once, I was reading my book, and she got all excited and threw sand, and got it in my book. That received a sharp reprimand, and ever since, whenever we are at a sand pit, or she sees that particular book, she'll remind me "nein throw sand mommy's book Gwennie".
- when we play with play-doh on the table, we do it without the place mat. She'll remind me, "No mat, no mat", every time. (Curiously, this is one of the few places where she'll say "no" instead of "nein").
- the other day she started running down the hall with her scissors, and we stopped her and made her close them and walk. The next day, she again had them on her hand, and started to run down the hall, and almost before we could stop her, she stopped herself, "scissors closed! nein run!"
And yet, we have had the "if you say you want to walk, then you must walk, if you say 'walk, walk' and don't, you'll only get 2 or max 3 chances before I pick you up and haul you" routine a number of times, and the cause-and-effect hasn't seemed to have sunk in at all. The fact that she apparently hadn't remembered the promise I made her in the middle of such a tantrum made me think: I wonder what effect on the formation of cause-and-effect relations being in tantrum-mode has. It certainly wouldn't surprise me at all if there was something in the brain where one of the consequences of being in tantrum-mode was the diminishment of the ability to understand consequences. This isn't a hypothesis I'm in any capacity to investigate, but I bet someone has, and if not, someone should!
