Nice

I've had an eventful work week! Wednesday I argued before the Court of Appeals for the first time. It was very eventful to me and ....it felt AMAZING.

I've always hated public speaking and I've always been very shy and nervous when I am given attention in front of a crowd. I've been dreading the hearing all month, slowly counting down the days to when it would be behind me. But I came away from the hearing convinced that there is no better high than engaging in a craftful, well-prepared legal sparring match. I just may have acquired a taste for the blood sport.

In addition to this hearing, I was forced out of my comfort zone on several other occasions this week. It's a funny but I'm continually surprised to find that I am feeling more comfortable and confident in my role and equally surprised to find that clients and reporters and other attorneys take me seriously and ask my opinion.

Despite this growing confidence, in the past two weeks I've frequently found myself under critique or judgment. Several times in the past two weeks, I have been accused me of being "too nice." But it's never in a positive way. It's in a passive aggressive or condescending way. I try not to let it bother me but I have yet to find a good way to respond to this criticism. When I try to defend myself or even ignore it, I feel like I come across as weak or defensive, which tends to support my critic's point. So what else can I do? I'm not sure.

I'm not bothered by the fact that people consider me to be nice. I'm bothered by the fact that people associate niceness with weakness or inferiority. It's as if they are saying I can't be an effective litigator when I react to incivility or unreasonableness with civility. That being agreeable is akin to being a pushover. As if, openmindedness and the willingness to thoughtfully consider the position of the other side renders me incompetent. Or arrogance is a requirement for being a successful advocate. This bothers me VERY much.

Dear experienced and learned colleagues in the legal profession. It is not a sign of weakness to NOT be an asshole. Thank you.

First of all, to be an effective advocate, you have to be true to yourself. If I tried to be overly confident, unwaivering, or bull-headed, I would not be doing my client any favors. That is just not who I am. I can't be effective if I'm not being genuine. I don't know how to be that way (and I have no desire to learn). That's not how I'm effective. I'm successful as an attorney when I can be myself and playing up my own strengths- diplomacy, cooperation, open-mindedness. Everyone has a style that works for them. And it really bothers me that people assume there is only one way to accomplish things- by being an a-hole.

It also bothers me that people assume I'm "too nice" because I'm "inexperienced" or a "new attorney" rather than as a conscious decision. Sure, I may change the way I do things as I gain more experience. But my "niceness" is not a result of ignorance or inexperience. It's a conscious decision that reflects how I would like my profession to change for the better. It's also founded in my personal code of ethics and the professional reputation I would like to build. And finally, it's strategic. Sometimes it IS called for to be harsh and unwaivering. But in my own experience that is not true at least 80% of the time (maybe even 90%).

To end my rant, I would like to mention that it's completely fine to give on the little issues. Fighting every single minute issue is generally not in my interest or my client's interest. If an attorney asks me to do something that I'm not required to do but doesn't disadvantage or burden me? Why the hell not? It's a way to build good will, a good relationship with opposing counsel, and earn reciprocal professional courtesies. Machiavelli may vehemently disagree with me on these issues. But the law is not just about strong advocacy. It's also about candor. And professionalism.

Yes, there is power behind the law. But there is also humanity. Law is, in many significant ways, about co-existence and rectifying wrongs. Don't get me wrong. I'm not entirely an idealist. I know that attorneys and their clients can use the laws and the rules and even the code of ethics unfairly to their own advantage. I also believe that sometimes the ends justifies the means. But if winning and being a successful litigator necessitates losing sight of humanity and civility and always treating your opponent as an enemy, then I would seriously have to reconsider my profession.

I know I'm young. And I may be naive. But just maybe I've made an actual conscious and strategic decision after having carefully weighing all the options. I like to remember that the opponents on the other side of the courtroom are just people like me.

Easter 2015 & Other News

What's happening over here?

Oh, not much. Just a man coming back to life three days after his death.*

In Big News: Ryan is potty trained!! He only pooped on my floor for an entire week! Considering the number of times this week that I had to pick up solid waste with a thin plastic bag, it felt like I had a dog park in my living room. And he only dropped his binky in the toilet twice. But we've been accident free now for several days. And I'm so happy to cut down by half the number of diapers I have to change each day. Because Jon is now eating baby food....and you all know what that means....

I had the kids' photos taken a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately, the only picture I really loved was the one shot that I decided to join. I used up all of my faithful tricks (making up jokes about a dog pooping on people's heads, doing a booty dance behind camera, and demanding that the kids not smile), but nothing seemed to get their smiles going. Oh well... at least my hair looks awesome.

We had Jacob's parent-teacher conference last week. Jacob has been reading at a first grade level for a while now. The teacher wants him to be tested for their gifted child program, which will be happening next week. Parents all know how amazing their kids are, but to hear a teacher sit there and gush and gush over how well your child is doing and how great he is....it's just indescribable. I don't think he is really my kid. I couldn't read until second grade.

Then there was Easter.

And lots of egg hunts. The kids will go to great lengths to get their hands on those plastic eggs.

There was messenger bag posing.

And monkeying around.

And pinata hitting.

And pretzel bunny eating.

And loot inventory. The kids had a total of three Easter egg hunts. One at great-grandma's house. One at Aunt Cindy's house. And the final one at home, which didn't happen until 7:30pm. The two older kids spent the night at their grandma's house last night so the Easter Bunny was able to take her precious time in hiding all the eggs and the baskets. We left the house at 9am for Easter mass and didn't get home with the kids until 7:30. The Easter Bunny wised up this year and filled the eggs with quarters instead of candy. The kids loved it!

Ryan couldn't be happier about his flashlight. He saw that and screamed for joy. It was pulling teeth to make him go find the rest of the eggs. The bunny brought Jacob an Avenger's watch. He saw it and exclaimed, "HOW DID THE EASTER BUNNY KNOW THIS IS JUST WHAT I WANTED?!" Hey bunny, you did good this year!

It was a great day!

*That would be Jesus, for anyone who didn't know.

A Kids-Chores-Work Omelette

After today, I seriously need a weekend from my weekend.

This morning Jacob asked if we could go to our favorite breakfast place, The Pancake House. My husband wasn't interested but when I realized I wouldn't have much quality time with the boys this week (trial!), I decided it might be a good idea. So I took the boys on a mommy-son breakfast date.

We colored the kid's menu. We played tic-tac-toe. I coaxed Ryan off the floor five times. I stopped Jacob from drinking approximately 15 half-n-half shots. I picked up a pancake that Ryan threw into the booth next door. I mediated about a dozen fights, one involving Ryan shooting a rubber band in Jacob's face (no idea where that came from). I finished a cup of coffee, picked all the berries off the kids' face pancakes (seriously? the berries are the best part!). So...overall, it was a successful (although not relaxing, by any means) breakfast.

After breakfast we went to Target for Jacob's first back-to-school shopping experience. And my first one in probably 10 years. There is nothing more excited or elating than brand new school supplies! Ahh, the memories! I splurged a little and let Jacob pick out a new Ninja Turtle backpack and matching lunchbox. Then I was a softy and, after several puppy-dog-eyed-glances and sad pace pouts, let Ryan have a Ninja Turtle lunchbox as well. It was a fun experience...until we got to the checkout and I saw the price tag for everything...YIKES. I did also buy groceries and clothes for both kids (including Jacob's uniform outfits), so I guess I didn't make out too badly.

We got home at noon and the rest of the day was a huge whirlwind of chores. I sterilized and scrubbed the boys' mattresses (they smelled like pee- ew!), washed all their bedding and dirty clothes and ended up doing four loads of laundry in total. I haven't even done MY laundry yet, ugh.

Then I logged into my computer and hammered out two hours of work. Not uninterrupted, of course. I finished a motion for directed verdict (yay, trial!) while mediating several fights over toys, issuing time-out warrants, preparing lunches and snacks, switching my four loads of laundry from the washer to the drier, and cleaning up after the kids.

Then I got to put away all the laundry and make all the beds and tidy all the rooms and direct the kids in the cleaning of ALL THE TOYS (no small feat). Then prepare dinner (during which I spilled boiling butter all over my belly and nearly melted into a puddle on the kitchen floor). Then serve dinner. Then clean the dishes. My stretching abdomen muscles started acting up during all of this so while I was working I was holding my belly up and wincing in pain. I feel like such a wuss, but simple every day tasks (anything that involved bending over) take so much effort when you are 30 weeks pregnant.

The boys playing "dress up"

Now, we're getting the kids ready for bed and I'm hoping to rest for a minute or two before I have to hit the computer again.

In other news, tomorrow is the first day of a big civil employment law trial that I am co-chairing. The trial is in federal court and I'm both thrilled beyond measure and dying from anxiety at the same time. We had a pre-trial conference last week and just sitting in the big fancy, marble courtroom in front of a Ninth Circuit judge started to make me feel giddy. I've been tasked with voir dire tomorrow and after that, I won't have much of a role (other than jotting and passing notes) until Wednesday and Thursday when I'll be examining my five witnesses.

Holy moley, I'm so excited. I still can't believe my boss and colleagues have entrusted me with such big tasks for this trial. In my experience in private practice, most associates don't get much trial experience because the partners like to take all the fun and glory. So the fact that I'm a fourth year (and just a temporary employee at that!) who is co-chairing a big deal trial in federal court means a whole lot to me and I totally appreciate the opportunity that my bosses are giving me. I just hope I don't royally screw up and lose the case for us- which is actually a possibility if I bomb my witness examinations! YIKES!

I can't wait until next week, when my part of the trial is over and I can coast through, not just the rest of the trial but the rest of my work assignments until baby gets here. It will be SUCH a relief and I'll be able to really enjoy the rest of the summer, stress free. Well, until the next big case comes along. Hopefully when that happens, I will be a permanent employee (fingers crossed!).

I've helped prepare for several trials in my short legal career. I've just never been that involved in the actual trial part (except for a minor role examining one witness in a small personal injury case). This whole process has really solidified my passion for litigation. I'm actually worried that when the trial is over, I'll experience a huge letdown and become really bored with my day to day legal work. I love the rush and strategy of litigation. When I applied to lawschool I NEVER imagined in a million years that I'd be a trial attorney (much less enjoying being a trial attorney), I can seriously see (after more experience) myself doing just trials and trial consulting for the rest of my professional career.

Trial, Trial Everywhere

I'm up to my elbow in trials. And I love every bit of it. The actual trial part is not necessarily my favorite but preparing and strategizing for trial, is essentially like my version of snorting coke off Ryan Reynolds abs in a tropical paradise while swimming in a pool of margarita - don't forget the salt-rimmed pool edges and a sun that doesn't burn skin but only turns it the perfect shade of toast (not that I would know what ANY of that was like).

My criminal trial (the one that I'm helping on in order to get more trial experience) keeps getting continued. At first, I was so thankful for each continuance but now I'm just annoyed. I want to put it behind me. My mentor had me practice my opening statement (which nervously spent way too much time writing) in a real courtroom to a jury box full of experienced criminal lawyers. Talk about nerve-wracking!

I got mostly good feedback but I'm told I need more passion. It's just.... I find it so hard to get passionate about criminal law. How can I act indignant go all wrath-of-God on the defendant just like the TV attorneys when prosecuting a misdemeanor? In my opening, while paraphrasing what one person said, my mentor wants me to say, "f*ck you" right to the jury's faces. I've never said the f-word in open court before. That should be interesting, especially since I will be like seven months pregnant. And surprisingly, it takes much more practice than you would think. You know, I can't sound TOO comfortable doing it-- the jury will think I have a sailor's mouth.

Earlier this year, I got pulled into assisting on a major employment lawsuit. Dispositive motions have been filed. Settlement attempts have been made. It looks like we are really going to trial. My boss has asked me to help with the trial and casually (almost a little too-casually), she assigned me four witnesses to examine on the stand.

What's awesome about where I work is that people assume you can do your job and leave you to do it. They don't micromanage. They don't hold your hand. They don't nervously check over your shoulder. They delegate and then move on. It's like, "here, write this appellate brief and file it, I don't need to review it." Or, "draft this letter on behalf of such-and-such elected official." Or, "cross examine these witnesses at trial." It's so very awesome in such a very scary way.

It's a huge wake-up call to realize that most attorneys in this world are not experts. They are all learning as they go, just like me. I have just as good of a chance of succeeding on a project as they do. If I didn't jump in and craft something together by the seat of my pants, another attorney (even one more experienced) would probably do just that. So wait? There is no magic milestone in your legal career where you suddenly know how to do everything? Yikes.

But, like I said, litigation is my passion. And I'm so happy to have civil trials to work on. When I interviewed for my job, it was described to me as mostly contracts and public record disclosures. And truly, when I first started, I did a good deal of "general counsel" work. It was interesting. But it just wasn't litigation. I missed the drama, the slowly unfolding stories revealed during discovery, I missed being 100% involved in a case that progressed for nearly a year, with new twists and turns at every corner before the entire thing culminated in one climactic production (whether trial, or mediation, or arbitration, or dispositive motion, or settlement discussions).

Luckily, I had the opportunity to show my coworkers that my true legal skills lie in brief writing and civil motions/strategy. And ever since then, I've been sought after to help in all kinds of litigation projects. Right now, I'm in a perfect spot. I have no actual clients of my own. I'm just some kind of in house litigation consultant/contractor who gets asked to chime in and help almost exclusively on all things litigation.

As a result, in the past nine months, I've written three appellate briefs, countless dispositive motions, numerous memos on a vast range of legal topics, and have assisted in the trial preparation of two civil litigation cases. All without having to stress over managing my own caseload. It's perfect. Of course, this is only temporary. Either they will let me go when they don't need me anymore or they will hire me on permanently and load me up with my own clients. So for now, I'm soaking in my margarita pool and enjoying every single day, while also looking forward immensely to my imminent maternity leave...hurry up and get here already!

Heart Attack Ensues (Part 2 of My First Trial)

I met with my trial mentor a second time. This time, I was more emotionally prepared. And he seemed much less intimidating. I really hope no one mentioned that he scared the crap out of me last time. That would be slightly embarrassing.

We talked about the case and divvied up the work. He asked me what parts of the trial I wanted to do. The honest-to-goodness truth was that I wanted to do none of it. Just the thought of having to perform in front of a jury under another attorney's watchful eye makes me want to melt into a puddle and disappear from earth's surface. I really wanted to run away. This whole thing is so far beyond my comfort zone. Why is my profession so damn scary?!

Against my deepest wishes, I'm doing the opening statement and the first closing statement. I've been instructed to prepare my opening statement so that I can practice in front of my mentor. Ok, except...hello! I don't know what an opening statement is! I've never even seen one (except for TV). I'm told I need a good hook to keep the jury interested. Ugh. Is it too late to go to art school?

I'm also direct examining three witnesses and cross examining one defense witness. I'm less worried about these tasks. I've examined witnesses on the stand before. I'm not familiar with it but I know I can do it when I have to.

Today, we were scheduled to meet with several witness. These are witnesses we will be calling. They also happen to be police officers. And I've decided that I could never make it as a criminal attorney. See, I have this thing for police officers. Much like a suit is to most people, a police uniform is to me. Put any man in a police uniform and he instantly gains ten points on the attractiveness scale. It must have something to do with having physical power, authority, and the duty to uphold the law.......I'm stopping now before I travel beyond a PG rating.

I was totally not stressed about this meeting. I've never been in a prosecutorial interview before but my mentor would be there to take the lead. I planned to ride shotgun and take really good notes. AND THEN a (metaphorical) peanut butter and jelly sandwich hit my face. As soon as I got to the office, I received a phone call from a pleasant lady telling me that my mentor would be running late and that I was to start without him and he would join at the very end. "Ok," I managed to squeak out in a terrified voice.

I gave myself a huge prep talk. "You can do this! You're an attorney! You're important! You're smart! You can ask a few simple questions." I spent an hour preparing for the meeting by reading every single document related to the case. I took two pages worth of barely adequate notes on what I should ask. I was appalled to know that I didn't even know the basics. Do I interview them all at once or separately? What does a prosecutor call a police officer? Do I record the interview? Do I reveal facts that are non-related to their testimony?

I arrived at the conference room ten minutes early and just sat at the desk looking into space. My mind wondered from "What the hell am I doing?" to "It's just an informal interview, no biggie." Looking back, I'm pretty sure I over-reacted to the entire thing. I mean it WAS just an interview. But it doesn't take much to get me out of my comfort zone (said the homebody introvert who prefers the selfservice check-out line because she doesn't have to tell a checker how her day is going).

I sat there at that conference table having a mini heart attack and bracing for what I was sure was going to be an awkward meeting. I checked my phone nervously about 30 times in 15 minutes. I watched the wall clock tick towards my impending torture session. I put on a smile. A big smile. This is what I do when I'm nervous. When your nerves fail, smile at people and they may just take pity on you.

But no one showed. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Every time I heard footsteps my heart quickened. But the footsteps always kept walking right on by. Then twenty minutes passed. Suddenly a frame graced the doorway. This is it, showtime! I braced myself.

But who was it? None other than my mentor. I was SO happy to see him that I could have attacked him with a giant hug (probably best I didn't since this is an assault case). He saved me! I invisibly let out a giant sigh. All the tension flowed from my body. Right at that moment, I was the happiest human on earth. I was happier than a catch-and-release halibut, bracing for death only to feel the cool, familiar water splash against its scales.

Finally, the law enforcement witnesses arrived. And it went so smoothly. Very smoothly (except for the occasional drop of drool that escaped my mouth). And it was fun. And I learned a lot. And that was the meanest joke anyone had ever unintentionally played on me.

Going Full Lawyer

One blessed thing my experience as a lawyer has given me is more confidence and assertiveness in other areas of my life. I'm a very unassertive person. I do not like conflict. I want everyone to like me. Even if I hate them, I still want them to like ME. Historically, I'm easily classified as a pushover for most things. Being a lawyer and advocating for my clients/positions on a regular basis has helped me tremendously in this department.

So, this post is either a story about my triumph over being unassertive... or a how-to guide on releasing work stress.

When Ryan was born, we incurred mega medical bills. Like multi-thousand dollar mega (thanks to a four day C-section-related hospital stay and one pregnancy-induced kidney stone-related stay) . Thankfully our hospital is pretty flexible about repayment plans- or so I thought! So, for the past two years, I've had medical payments automatically deducted from my bank account. Even after two years, we still owe a large amount but at least it's slowly going down...(silver lining, people).

Yesterday, my eyes bulged unattractively out of my head when I opened up an envelope to find a notice from a collection company about my medical bills! The hospital sent the remaining balance of my bill to collections! I almost fainted on the spot. Being transferred from the hospital system to collections would totally destroy my ability to participate in the flexible, interest free payment plan.

I called the hospital during my lunch hour. I might add that I was in the middle of reading an opposing brief full of statements of "fact" that were making my blood boil. So I did not start the conversation in a happy place. When I called, the hospital service lady told me that the bill had been sent to collections so it was out of the hospital's hands, they could do nothing. I argued that I had no notice that my AUTOMATIC deductions weren't being taken out of my account for the past three months.

She insisted that they had called me three times and left three voice mails to tell me that the payment was not processing and that my payments were delinquent. I went ballistic. I had received exactly NO such notice. She told me that her system indicated that I WAS informed and that I must be mistaken. I was PO'ed and demanded to speak to a supervisor.

When I spoke to the supervisor, it was clear that he didn't look at my account and was repeating everything the previous lady had told me. He repeated that there was nothing they could do since the bill was sent to collections and berated me for not checking in with them to make sure my payments were being processed. I went full lawyer on the bastard.

"The POINT of automatic deductions is to not have to worry that you will miss a payment. Is it NOT?!"

"As the bill collector under an automatic payment system, YOU are required to inform me if there is a problem with my account! That's standard practice, is it NOT?!"

"No, I did not receive ANY voicemails. I don't care what the service rep told you the computer says, I received NO notice. Your computer is inaccurate."

"I don't care what the computer says. I'm telling you I received nothing from you. I demand that you send me a copy of my patient bill of rights and/or any documents you have outlining the repayment plan obligations."

"No, I understand what you are saying. However, repeating it five times will not make me agree with you. I'm telling you I received no notice. And this is unacceptable. Fine, I'll call collections now...but I WON'T be happy about it!"

Then I called collections. They told me that the bill was still in pre-collections so they have no control over the bill. Only the medical provider can control the bill at this stage. Oh REALLY?!?! Veins popping out of my neck. So angry, I could strangle a squirrel. Seeing blood.

I called the hospital back, already prepared to be on the offensive and strike boldly at the first sign of argument. This time, a very pleasant lady answered the phone. "Oh yes, you can make a payment on your account. It isn't in collections yet. Oh, according to our computer, we were unable to process your last couple of payments. I apologize, the computer says we never called to notify you. That is our mistake. I'm very sorry."

It was seriously night and day. It was like the archangel of Patient Financial Services flew down from heaven and was whispering sweet, reassuring statements in my ear.

I still don't know what the heck was wrong with the first people I talked to. Perhaps going full lawyer snapped them into shape. Or perhaps going full lawyer was completely unnecessary and all I had to do was kindly ask that they check their records a second time. Either way, I was thankful for the opportunity to release some steam. Sometimes you just really need to yell at someone, and who better to yell at than a couple of incompetent assholes who you will never meet in real life?

Oh yeah, I'm also happy that I'm no longer in threat of going to collections. So that's a bonus too.

The Wrong Side Of The Mountain (Part 1 of My First Trial)

For a week I have been hearing all about him. "You will love working with him." "He is the best trial attorney in this state." "He is so much fun!" "The guy's a genius."

When I finally show up at the front desk, the receptionist calls him. She announces my presence and, after hanging up, she directs me to sit. I sit and try so hard to will the worries and nerves from my body. I feel sharply dressed for casual Friday in my dark denim jeans, soft pale pink blouse, and smart black blazer. I feel a strong need to make a great first impression, but somehow I suspect I'm being frivolous and my wardrobe choice will go un-noticed.

He opens the door. I do not see the tall, slim frame that I had expected, that I had imagined. His face is not friendly, his eyes are not shining with charm. He asks how he can help me. He does not recognize my name. I finally explain, "my boss said you were willing to train me and give me some trial experience." Finally, it seems to click in his mind, unapologetically he tells me he is not good with names and summons me to follow him.

We walk down cavernous halls, turning left, then right, then left, left again. I'm already lost. He waves me into his office. It is small, crammed with books and file cabinets. He instructs me to have a seat pointing to a large, overstuffed leather chair in the corner. It's the only thing indulgent about his office. As I glide onto the cool leather, I imagine that many witnesses, perhaps even victims, have sat here before me.

"Why are you here?" He begins.

I don't quite understand. My boss sent a detailed email, on which I was cc'ed, explaining how she would love if he could help me get more trial experience. I wonder if he is looking for a literal answer or if he is simply probing me.

As I attempt to explain, my voice trails off, as if his very presence and steady gaze were squeezing the air from my throat.

"Tell me about yourself." His next question is not much easier. I begin to feel like this is an interview. That I have to prove myself. That I am not worthy to train with the best. No doubt, he probably has a million cases to get to. I feel like a beggar. A pesky fly. I am probably more trouble to him than it is worth.

I hate this question. How do you sum up 29 years of life experience, hopes and fears, successes and failures, passions and personality in response to one simple question. I begin to anger, which thankfully does not show behind my nervousness. It's all I can do to keep my hands from shaking, my eyes from narrowing in terror. Instinctively I want to run my hands through my parted hair. I resist the urge.

Getting to know someone should be a collaborative effort. He is taking the easy path and putting all the burden on me. I did not prepare for an interview. I remember my boss assuring me that I will have a lot of fun working for him. I feel like I met the wrong person.

I provide a clumsy and inadequate answer to his question. He asks several follow up questions. Such as "What did you do at X firm." When I tell him I did tort litigation, he quips, "and what does that mean?" Is he treating me like a witness on the stand? I already feel like I have failed.

He gives me a spiel about trying cases. How you have to put on a show. Be deliberate about everything you do. Create a personality that will keep the jury entertained while also making them think that you are the most prepared person in the room. Exude confidence. Be forceful. That is not what I do, clearly I have already shown him this flaw of mine in our brief 5 minute meeting.

He hands me a trial notebook. "This is what a trial notebook looks like. You have to have all the information at your fingertips. You never know what will come up. You never know what the judge will ask you. You have to plan in advance how you will get all your evidence before the jury. Know the evidence rules." With that, he hands me a gigantic evidence rule book. I decide not to tell him that Evidence was my lowest grade in law school. To mask my terror, I just smile.

"Be careful about smiling in court." He continues. "You don't want the jury to think you are flirting with them. Women who are friendly in court often have a hard time reaching women jurors."

I let me smile collapse on itself.

Next he hands me a case file. "Here is your case. Trial is set for the beginning of next month. Create a trial notebook like the one I showed you. Then come back and we will practice."

Is it too late to back out? I can't try a case. I know NOTHING about criminal law. I am a civil litigator. (And I mean litigator in a loose sense: drafting pleadings, issuing discovery, and the occasional discovery motion in front of a judge.)We finish our session.

"It was nice to meet you," I say, trying to be pleasant. I'm determined to win this man over. I'm determined, despite my deeply-rooted terror, to succeed.

"You don't know that just yet," he responds quickly and waves me out of his office. He shuts the door. I'm alone in the cavernous, maze-like hall. My arms, now loaded full of cases and books. I relax and my body starts to shake intensely, so fiercely like a mad dog finally let loose from a cage. I take a wrong turn. I wander the hall, searching for an exit sign. "He could have at least shown me out!" I'm angry but mostly at myself. Why can't I be more easy going and confident. Why can't I at least fake it? I better learn before my trial.

My mind trips on those words. "My trial." Even though I'm out of that room, I'm not safe. I realize that I'm going to have to come back here, to this uncomfortable and unknown place to do something uncomfortable and unknown. As I walk farther and farther into the labyrinth, I feel lost in more sense than one. I want to cry. I want to go home. I want to not have to think about trials. Or court. Or jurors. Or my shortcomings. Shyness has always been a disability for me. It's limitations and burdens never felt so staggering as they did in that hallways.

Somehow I make it out. I find a glimmer of outdoor light around a corner. I then turn to find a door. I step out and sigh. The air is fresh. In typical Pacific Northwest fashion, it smells slightly of rain, sweet but heavy in the air, and the start of budding leaves. I know I face a mountain. But I've faced many before. LSAT tests. Oral arguments in legal writing class. Taking my first deposition. Arguing my first summary judgment motion (just last year). I stumbled through all those things. But I survived. And I came out the other side a little stronger, a little tougher, and a little more experienced.

I know it will be painful. And hard. And scary. But I have hope knowing that with the passage of time,  four short weeks actually, I will be on the other side of this mountain. I will still be standing. And I will be relieved.

Insane

Insane. What's up with that word anyway? If you're insane, you're not in-sanity. You're out of sanity. Sans sanity. Un-sane. (This is what happens when I'm intellectually exhausted, I fight the dictionary.)

So, work. Wow. Remember that time just a couple weeks ago when things were really slow and I was starting to get bored? Me neither. Seems like forever ago. Last week, the head of our division asked me to assist in one of her employment litigation cases. I've developed kind of a reputation for being a "firecracker" at litigation. Which is just the fancy/nice way of saying "the sucker you can pawn all your motions onto at the last minute." But I don't mind. I love litigation. With a passion. People think that's weird. I just explain that litigation is the perfect channel for my passive aggressive competitiveness. I get to attack people. With words! It's pretty much amazing.

So last Wednesday, my boss asked me to help her with her case (which is in federal court- I love federal court). We needed to file two important discovery motions....the next day. I put everything aside and dived right into this case I knew nothing about in a topic (employment) that I also knew nothing about. I cranked out the motion, just barely in time to meet the filing deadline.

When it was time to submit the motion, I was surprised to discover that there was no process for reviewal/approval (maybe because the boss was really busy). There was no one waiting anxiously to approve my motion for filing and leave bright, red pen marks in the margins. That is definitely going to take some getting used to. These people really trust me to file whatever the heck I want? That's so foreign to me. As I uploaded the motion onto the court system for filing, I was nervous as hell that I had forgotten something really important. Turns out I did: proofread. Ooops. I hope my boss never has enough free time that she wants to read my motion just for the heck of it.

Earlier this week, I helped file another motion. And then yesterday, I was asked to write another discovery motion which, like last week's motion, was due the next day (today). This motion nearly killed me. I didn't know about the motion until the early afternoon. I spent the rest of the day yesterday and a good portion of my night trying to learn the facts, learn the law, and begin crafting and outlining the arguments. I then spent all of today hunched over my computer furiously typing away (and deleting and re-typing and re-deleting).

My look of intense concentration did not prevent another attorney from stopping in for a quick chat. He stopped by just to tell me that he was super swamped and didn't have time to discuss a project with me. He then launched into a soliloquy of the history of workers compensation (totally unrelated to our project), every single fact in existence about this particular project, and a summary of the law regarding bankruptcy (which he knew I knew because I wrote the freaking memo for him!). I was pretty much verbally trapped in my office and he continued to talk me to as he followed me to the kitchen, to the water cooler, to the filing cabinet and even to the entrance of the women's restroom. 40 minutes later....I was a free woman. (Saved by the pee).

When I returned to my office to finish the motion, I heard the sound of a small dog running down the hall past my office. As he ran he emitted obnoxious high-pitched barks which echoed down the hall and pierced through every wall. Then the dog scurried into the office next to mine where he remained and continued barking for the next two hours. I know a lot of people like dogs. I am NOT one of them. I am totally the WRONG person to share an office wall with if you like to bring your dog to the office (apparently that's even allowed?). Oh man. I was pissed. As I typed frantically on my keyboard and tried to concentrate I plotted at least five different ways deaths for that stupid yappy dog.

Aside from the dog, the pressure of the 5 o'clock filing deadline was my enemy all day. I searched frantically for supporting case law and key facts to support my motion all while fighting against the clock. When it all came together literally in the last 15 minutes, I let out a HUGE sigh of relief, filed the motion, and sat back in my chair.

I was mentally exhausted. My eyes hurt from staring at the computer. My head hurt from thinking. My back hurt from being hunched over my computer. I skipped lunch, hadn't checked my e-mails, and didn't even gulp down my daily Diet Dr. Pepper (which may also have contributed to the headache). But as I slunk back in my chair, relaxed, relieved and exhausted, I was extremely happy. I really missed writing motions and strategizing discovery issues on a daily basis. I had even missed the rush of filing deadlines.

Just as I was thinking about how sad I was to be done with these motions, another attorney entered my office. "Can you help me with a motion next week?" Despite working nonstop for the past 19 waking hours on this last motion, I smiled, nodded, and eagerly agreed.

I love my job. I love it so much, that I can probably tolerate yappy dogs for a little while longer.

The Coworker And Reflections On Lawyering

Everyone should have at least one coworker like The Coworker. He says the oddest, most hilariously uncomfortable, and off-the-wall things. Whenever he speaks, I want to both laugh really hard and sink into my seat under the heavy blanket of embarrassment that he SHOULD but is incapable of feeling. Yesterday, he told his legal assistant to clean the sparkles off her desk because that is where he snorts cocaine after work.

Today we exchanged secret Santa gifts. Our boss was The Coworker's secret Santa and gave him a nice pair of slippers. When he opened them he said, "Wow, someone really knows what I like...before bed." The entire office was howling.

This guy is the same guy who offered to marry me and have my babies after I completed a project for him. Writers for The Office couldn't invent a character like him if they tried. Although he would make a perfect accompaniment to Michael Scott.

He's one of the two people in the office that gives me assignments to complete. I often worry that I'm not getting enough exposure by only working closely with two attorneys. I am still just a temporary employee and my guaranteed six months of work is nearing its end. But these two attorneys keep me pretty busy and they are very happy with my work. I decided that it's much easier to convince two people that I am intelligent than it is to convince an entire office. So, I'll just mark that down as a good thing and hope that due to their seniority, they will be able to convince the management to keep me.

The other day, one attorney spent an hour and a half going over a new assignment with me. At the end he said, "Oh never mind, I'll just do it myself. It's too complicated." I'll admit, it WAS complicated. It was an issue involving a tax lien in a bankruptcy proceeding. And what I knew about bankruptcy could be inscribed by pen onto a single acorn. But I was really bummed that I had just invested 1.5 hours listening to a lecture for no good reason and I was kind of looking forward to the challenge. Then, at the very last minute, the attorney changed his mind. Looking very skeptical, he said, "Go ahead and give it a try. After you get a start, I'll help you complete it."

Aside from my litigation assignments, every project I have been given has absolutely terrified me. I have ZERO background knowledge in any of this government stuff. The big projects I have been given so far have involved, taxing districts, federal HIPAA laws, amending ordinances, and advising law enforcement. In car collision litigation, it's a big deal when you make a mistake. Not only do you let your client down, but you can really impact your client's financial situation. However, this is nothing compared to giving advise to a local government. When the government screws up, it's kind of a big deal.

The projects I have been assigned have been equal parts intense and unfamiliar. These assignments cause my mind to seize with fear every time I am left alone to sit at a computer researching obscure areas of law and drafting opinion letters for a client. But the deathly fear is directly proportional to the satisfaction that arises each time the "complex and confusing" become "organized and understood" in my brain. Being a lawyer is essentially just organizing information and concepts into an easy to understand and helpful (for your client) way. And applying the information and concepts to an actual real-life problem that a client is facing and offering helpful suggestions on what to do next is a lawyer's equivalent to winning the Powerball.

So today, I was excitedly nervous as I handed in my assignment, fully completed, to the attorney. I had just been on a self-confidence roller coaster. One moment, I would decide that he was right and the project was way above my level. The next, I would uncover a clue hidden within a federal statute and feel happy little thrills pulsing through my body. I like to call this phenomenon the Legal Researcher's High (and Low). I held my breath for a moment when I handed in my assignment. I was dying to know if I had met or fallen short of the expectations set out for me. The attorney carefully reviewed my memo, expressed a sign of shock, and told me it was excellent. He then instructed me to send it to the client as-is. I walked away calmly, stepped into my office and did a silent yet jubilant fist pump.

Success! As an attorney, you have to take your successes when you can. It is a given that you will mess up sometime. Every time that you don't, needs to be celebrated.

So, as much as I look at each new assignment with utter terror, I am also thrilled beyond measure to have another new area of law to investigate and massage and examine. Law is such a fascinating and expansive subject. You can research every day of your life and still confront new issues and problems. In that regard, being a lawyer is extremely satisfying. Being a lawyer is also as intellectual as academia, except it is extremely practical. It's too bad being a lawyer comes with a host of unpleasant things, like student loans, job insecurity, billable hours, egomaniac personalities, and socially inept colleagues. Aside from all THAT, it is a wonderful, rewarding, and challenging career.

The Nerd Fairy Visits

I continue to be the happiest person on earth. My work is amazing so far. It's too amazing. I have two feelings that are competing for my mind right now. One is total excitement and relief that I have finally found the perfect job for me. The other is anxiety and fear that all this wonderfulness will go away or disappear, either, because this is all a dream or because they are unable to extend my position after the original six months.

When I accepted the job, I was told I would be doing a lot of public disclosure stuff (mindless document review). So far, I've only been doing litigation (which is totally fine with me!). I've been asked to assist on a case that is going to trial in December. It's a personal injury case so I'm totally in my element and comfort zone. The litigation team (all four of us) were sitting around the conference table yesterday discussing litigation strategy. I was amazed at how much I knew about trial strategy and how much I could contribute. I was genuinely surprised.

I only have three years of litigation under my belt (only two years of active participation) and I've only co-chaired one trial, but here I was actively contributing to the strategy session. I was pinching myself and asking, "who is this person who has suddenly occupied my body?!" I feel like I've crossed a precipice. The one that divides newbies from non-newbies. It feels amazing. I have to say that I owe it to insurance defense work. When you defend cases for insurance companies you are exposed to so many different cases and issues that you quickly gain experience in a little bit of everything.

As idyllic and dreamlike as my position is, the actual work has been even more so. Everything is going so well that I feel like this job was made for me. My first day at work, I was asked to assist with researching an unusual and obscure issue on which there is not much case law or guidance. It just so happens that I had researched that same exact issue two months ago and had written an extensive motion on it. I was able to provide some information off the top of my head which, I'm hoping, earned me some major points.

I heard one of the litigation attorneys talking about an insurance coverage issue she was having in another case. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Oh my gosh, can I help? I love insurance coverage. It's my favorite!" Half an hour later, I had finished drafting a request for tender. From the far reaches of my memory, I pulled out my knowledge of insurance company duties to defend and indemnify, standards for properly determining coverage, and extra-contractual damages. With each word I typed about breaches of good faith and coverage estoppel, I became giddy with happiness and a little person inside me was doing the happy dance on repeat. NERD ALERT.

My next assignment is to draft a complaint for declaratory judgment. This is like the jackpot of all jackpots for insurance law lovers like me. I'm so excited that I just spent an hour of my Friday evening researching sample complaints....for FUN.

Speaking of weekend, it could not have come at a better time! I just spent the past two days drafting an intense response to a summary judgment motion. It's lengthy and bursting with legal analysis. On Thursday I spent seven consecutive hours drafting it. I spent another seven consecutive hours on it today. By the time 4:30 rolled around, my brain was going to explode if I had to analogize one more case. I felt like my eyes were emitting rays of computer light. The next two days will give my brain plenty of time to rest.

But, honestly, I can't wait to go to work on Monday so I can get started on that complaint for declaratory judgment. I'm pretty sure the nerdy fairy has just inducted me into the nerd hall of fame.

Just Plain Rude

One of our personal injury cases has turned into an insurance bad faith case seemingly overnight. This makes me happy. I love insurance bad faith almost as much as I love insurance coverage. Although a lot of other projects have been waiting in my work queue, I fervently drafted a letter to an opposing counsel on the bad faith case. I was very proud of my three page, persuasive letter which was brimming with legal authority and thoughtful analysis.

My boss gave me good feedback and told me I was starting to sound like "Attorney X," a notorious bad faith attorney in our area. Looking back, I took way too much pride in that compliment. My letter was addressed to a partner at a Big Law firm. A couple days later, opposing counsel responded to my letter. Except he did not address his response to me. He addressed it to one of the male partners in the firm. What? MY name was on that letter. Why would he respond to someone else? I was pissed. I turned down the opportunity to made a snarky comment in a follow-up letter. I almost wish I had. But that's not really my style.

I don't consider myself to be a shining proponent of feminism. Obviously, I'm not against women being considered and treated as equals in the work place. I'm just not very militant about it. I wouldn't turn down a male coworker's offer to help me nail a frame on my office wall or help me carry a heavy box. I think chivalry is awesome, not anti-feminist. I don't necessarily buy into the argument that women across the board earn less than male counterparts in the same circumstances (I may be incorrect in my thinking but I just don't have very high regard for the statistics and "studies" out there - in general I always take statistics with a grain of salt). I don't think being considered a "nice" person is a bad thing for a lawyer (not necessarily a feminist issue but more women tend to be labeled as "nice" or "gentle" than men, in my opinion).

BUT. BUT. Even if I will never win a gold medal for my work in advancing the plight of women in this country, I still hate when male chauvinism creeps into the work place. If I do good work, I want it to be recognized and acknowledged as MY work. And even if I'm not a partner and even if I don't have as much experience as my opponents, I would hope they would have enough respect for me as a human to deal with me directly rather than completely bypass me for a higher-up.

End. Rant.

Yoga Pants And Ape Suits

Last night, mother's day evening, because my boss had promised a client that we would hand over a deliverable by Monday morning (and because I am nothing if not a procrastinator) I plopped down in front of my computer at precisely 8:30 p.m. and worked furiously. I researched and scoured case law and strung together semi-coherent sentences about complicated issues of law until my eyeballs literally lost their ability to focus. Two hours into my work I took a ten minute break to rest my eyes. After that, I didn't look up again until my project was completed, at 2 a.m.

I went to bed and dreamed about the memo I had just written. My dream self told me that I needed to take out the entire statement of facts because no one wants to read facts. Then I dreamed that my boss had a heart attack and this meant that I had a day off. I wonder if that is a sign that the mere five hours of sleep I get each night are catching up to me?

Today, after I handed in my project, the boss asked me to lead a conference call with the client to go over my research. It felt amazing. I knew the cases inside and out and when the client asked what year a specific case was published, I was able to rattle it off out of thin air, much to my own surprise. I felt so on fire and competent. The client would have never known that I was wearing yoga pants (working from home today).

As I was about to punch out for the day, my phone rang. It was a number I did not recognize. On the other line was the owner of a law firm near my house asking if I could interview today. I had completely forgotten that last week, after another long work night which ended at 1 a.m. I had whimsically sent my resume and a cover letter in response to a job posting I found on the internet. It was so close to my home, I figured that I had to apply.

"Can you be here in 40 minutes?" He asked.

I think the normal response would have been, "Heck yeah, I'll be there in 40 minutes" as a normal person would have proceeded to go to a clothing store and purchase something other than yoga pants for the interview. I, on the other hand, very uncooly admitted that I was wearing yoga pants. However, the interviewer was not able to reschedule anytime soon. 40 minutes from then was the only time he was free this week.

"We are a very casual firm." He prodded. "It won't bother me." No matter how casual of a firm it might have been, I doubted that they had ever conducted an interview in yoga pants.

He finally talked me into stopping by. I figured I would stop at a store on my way in and purchase any kind of pants in something close to my size that was anything but yoga pants. But the man on the other end of the line must have read my mind. He said, "Don't go buy clothing just for this interview. Honestly, just come as you are, it won't bother me."

Great. If I didn't show up in yoga pants he would know that I had bought something just for the interview against his instructions. If I DID show up in yoga pants....well, I was showing up in YOGA PANTS for heaven's sake! In the end I showed up in yoga pants. In doing so, I had just created the best interview story I have ever heard (well, aside from the one time I was interviewed by a lawyer who was chewing tobacco and spitting it into a chocolate milk container during the enitre interview).

As the interview began, the man went on and on about the position. It was for an associate attorney job in a successful practice in a niche and impressive area of law. It was a job that would require extensive travel and a hectic work schedule. It was a job that carried some degree of prestige. One that would challenge and satisfy. One that could take over my life, lead to an amazing career, and really suck me in.

Sitting there in that church-converted law office with an open floor plan filled with classic wooden desks and fancy woven rugs, clothed in my beloved yoga pants, I had a crazy realization. I couldn't help but notice how much different I am now from the me that went to lawschool.

The me that went to lawschool would have put on an ape costume and done cartwheels for this job (which is kind of funny considering that the current me hadn't even dressed for the interview and was sitting there in yoga pants). The old me would have drooled over the long hours, extensive travel, and challenging topics. The old me (the me that was a student athlete who worked every week day and babysat every week night pretty much from highschool through lawschool) would have loved this opportunity and would have worn this job on my sleeve like a fancy badge. That me was a highly motivated overachiever.

But the new me kept trying to feign interest. I actually had to force myself to sound excited and eager. While a tiny little peice of old me wanted to emerge from the murky depths of my apathy, it kept getting shut down. The overachiever that I once was has died. It didn't die overnight. It kind of fizzled away slowly. Somewhere between burning out in lawschool, having kids, and entering the dark side of my twenties, I lost that drive. When someone says, "long hours" I no longer think of an opportunity to prove myself, gain valuable experience, or work my way up the ladder of success. Now, all I can think of are the moments that I will not experience with my children. A half day of work on Saturday no longer equals a half day of extra experience and praise. It means one less trip to the zoo. One less ice cream cone enjoyed in the park. Two less meals as a family. Five less hours filled with hide and seek, bike riding, or reading stories.

Oh God. Who AM I? Who is this person who would prefer to change poopy diapers and be verbally assaulted by children than to craft clever arguments and develop litigation strategies. What in the world happened to me? Why the heck am I sitting in a prestigous law firm in two-day old YOGA PANTS?

Sadly, the longer I sat in that chair, the less I wanted that job. The Medusa-like call of success and prestige and money no longer held any power over me. As the interviewer rambled on about the 200 depositions he had taken last year, I grew sad. I had just given up an hour of rare weekday time with my kids for this?

The interview finally ended and as I walked out the door, I didn't even care whether he would call me back for round two. I was suddenly overcome with gratitude for my current job situation. Sure, my paycheck is kind of depressing but I get to spend two extra weekday mornings and afternoons with my children on the days I work from home.

I'm pretty dang lucky. Even if the old me would not have agreed.

Love & Hate: Lawyer Edition...Brain Overheating

I hate working plaintiff cases. Probably because I'm cynical about most people and being an advocate for plaintiffs is a huge challenge for me. Also, dealing with medical providers gives me an ulcer. What? I can't just pay someone to give the medical opinion I want?

I love insurance defense. I like being on the "dark side." I love poking holes in arguments and claims. I like working with insurance companies. Not only is it repeat business but you get to deal with professionals who actually understand the system. There is also the challenge of representing a defendant while an insurance company pays your bills. Added bonus: coverage issues. If cases are like men's accessories, the typical personal injury lawsuit is a tie and a declaratory judgment insurance coverage lawsuit is a bow-tie. It's the nerdy, confusing, awkwardly sexy cousin. Maybe medical malpractice claims are ascots? Wow, anyway....sorry for that.

I love legal research.

I hate billable hours.

I both love and hate court appearances. The crazy mix of exhilaration and terror is fabulous. I am looking forward to my first summary judgment hearing next week.

I also both love and hate dealing with pro-se plaintiffs. Their letters are drenched in hyperbole and conspiracy theories. They are so dramatic and they take everything so personally. Their analysis of the law is usually very entertaining, especially when they get a lawstudent friend to write a letter for them. But they don't speak the language and are hard to reason with. The deck is so stacked againt pro-se plaintiffs that victories don't feel as good as they should.

I love yoga pants. Quality, durable, skin-tight yoga pants. It took me a while to come around but now I practically live in them. In fact, I just came back from a last-minute trip to Target during which I was wearing yoga pants with flats, my work-blouse, and a sequined hip-length cardigan. It was like elegance up top and comfort down low. I probably looked ridiculous. But I felt totally amazing.

Yoga pants for life! (I'm slightly deranged right now from lack of sleep and an abundance of work).

Legalese and Spouses

The problem with being a lawyer is that most people (non-lawyers) don't understand what you do. My dad is a lawyer. Whenever I showed any curiosity in his career or had to interview him for "career day" I left the conversation feeling more confused than ever. "I have no idea what my dad does," I thought to myself. Why couldn't my daddy just be a firefighter or a teacher or a doctor?

When I was in lawschool, the parents of the children I babysat always seemed so impressed. "Our babysitter is going to be a lawyer," I heard them brag on one or two occassions. I remember feeling very important. Then one day, a little girl that I babysat for asked me, "What is a lawyer?" The four year old had a very clear picture of what her daddy (a doctor) did at work, "he makes people feel better!" I tried to explain to the four year old the excitement and challenges of litigation and representing people who have been sued. It didn't quite translate into child-speak.

"When people are in car accidents, they have doctors to help them get better and tow trucks to tow their cars and lawyers to help them....um...to protect their....uhhhhh.....to help make sure people don't take all their money."

"Oh, like the police? Where's your gun? Do you have a badge? Have you been to JAIL?"

When you really boil it down, being a lawyer is a very abstract concept. Lawyers get paid to use their brains, think up ideas and arguments, and talk in a language that only the Courts understand. So yeah. That's what I do all day. Think, argue, and interpret.

The other night, I went to happy hour with my boss, his wife, and a mediator. When my boss' wife joined us she asked, "How did your summary judgment hearing go? Did you win your argument about circumstantial evidence? Did you file your motion in limine?"

My eyes bugged straight out of my head. My mouth might have hinged open, like a robot with a malfunctioning jaw. I looked like I had just seen a cat drive a car down a highway. My boss' spouse is one of Them. She's a non-lawyer. How is she conversing so easily about summary judgment motions and circumstanital evidence and motions in limine? I was thoroughly impressed.

My husband likes to talk to me about his work. And I always try my best to sound interested and give the appropriate amount of good feedback and praises. But I have been increasingly frustrated by his lack of ability to know what the heck I do all day. When I try to tell him about a really great ruling we got on a motion, his eyes kind of glaze over. After I explain how excited I am to have found an important case to use in a motion, he turns back to his computer and lets out closed-mouth "huh" sound (oddly, it's the same sound that he often gives me when I ask him if he likes what I made for dinner).

So, I kind of stopped telling him about my day or talking to him about my cases. He has also stopped asking. I've reached the point where I've given up hope of having someone at home to talk to about my days at work. It's a bit isolating and it's very frustrating. Especially when I have an uncontrollable urge to vent about something crazy opposing counsel did or an achievement that we accomplished.

I never wanted to marry a lawyer but I do miss the companionship of someone who can related to my work experiences. I guess this is where a network of lawyer friends come in handy. Maybe someday I will have time for a social life. But honestly, as lame as it sounds, I really like the company of my children right now (which is a good thing because it's often the only company outside of work that I get to enjoy). I never worry about them not laughing at my jokes (all I have to do is throw a fart sound in at the end). Or judging me when I have seconds of cake. Or thinking that I am weird when I throw all caution to the wind and act like a child. I will be so sad when they suddenly become too cool to hang out with mom. Darn, then I will have to go out and find some real friends.

Marching Into The Lion's Den

On Saturday after we took our family portraits, the photographer told us that the pictures would be ready by Wednesday (yesterday). I know most photographers take several weeks to turn around their proofs so I was really impressed by the promise.

Wednesday came and I neurotically began to check my emails for the pictures. I also neurotically began to refresh the photographer's blog and website for sneak peaks. Let's just say that my obsession with family portraits mixes poorly with my vanity. Thursday morning, when there was no sign of the photos, I sent a cheerful little e-mail to the photographer. He told me to expect the photos by the afternoon. Of course, I took that literally and began to, once again, neurotically check my emails every three minutes as soon as the big hand passed over the "12."

And now, here we are at 9:00 p.m., no sign of the photos and I'm going crazy! Every little buzz from my phone sends my heart racing. I don't think I will be able to concentrate again until the photos arrive.

As I mentioned, I skinned my knees really badly last Thursday on my way home from work. My knees have scabbed over and they are so freaking painful. Forget about the fact that I can't wear skirts to work (the staple of my work wardrobe). Everytime I straighten or bend my knees the scabs pull from the skin. Ryan likes to pull up on my legs and frequently bumps into my large bruises. I occassionally forget about my injuries and will try to kneel on one of the knees, especially when I'm on the floor with the kids or changing Ryan's diaper, causing me to let out a high-pitched shriek. I feel so crippled. I swear, you never know quite how important a body part is until it's injured.

Yesterday, one of the partners asked me to research whether we have a good faith argument to oppose a motion. I did my research. I tried so hard to find a clever, killer argument. Unfortunately, I think we are hosed on this issue. I wrote a neat little memo outlining my thoughts. The basic gist of the memo was, "there is this tiny little shred of a weak-ass argument we can make but we will not win this one."

As I was typing the memo I kept hoping that he wouldn't want to oppose this motion. I thought to myself, "Well, at least *I* won't be the one that has to face the judge."

The partner's reply: "Draft the opposition and be prepared to argued it."

Oh great. Eff. My. Life.

Nannies, Parties, & Litigation: All In A Day's Work

I woke up at 7 a.m. (groan!) this morning to begin a day of interviewing part-time nannies. It went mostly well and I already have my heart set on someone. My ideal pick has two boys that are the same ages as my boys. The family seems laid back, down to earth, and very embracing of the craziness that goes along with raising boys.

Out of all the homes we visited, Ryan was most at ease here. Jacob had a rare opportunity to go on vacation with his grandparents this week so he did not get to tag along. Ryan walked right up to the boy his age and they played so nicely together. The dad was also present and I could tell he plays a big role in his kids' lives. They have a nice-sized yard that is completely fenced in. They eat chocolate (evidence was peaking out from the pantry-- I don't trust people who don't eat chocolate!). Plus, they have really awesome toys (outdoor trampoling, indoor trampoline, outdoor big toy, indoor play toy). I never realized that little things would play such a big role in making me feel at ease with a potential nanny. Out of all the places we visited, I could most easily picture my children at that home.

There may be an issue with the days they are available so I'm crossing my fingers. I really hope that it works out! Especially considering that my two weeks' notice has turned into ONE week's notice and I need someone to start in three days!

After the morning of interviews, we attended my neice's first birthday party. We met up with my parents at the party and they returned Jacob to us. As Jacob ran into the house, he made a bee-line straight for Ryan. The look on Ryan's face when he saw his big brother for the first time in four days was simply priceless. The two musketeers were reunited and they were both so very happy.

Ryan's new glasses

The party was a cute princess safari theme and the boys had fun playing with their family and with their neice's toys. Jacob had even more fun foraging for used wrapping and tissue paper (after gifts were opened) and constructing a gigantic mountain out of them. As he went around picking up used trimmings, he announced proudly, "I collect pretty bows!" Apparently, as of today, he is an amateur bow-collector.

The party fizzled down after presents were opened and we made our way back home. When we arrived, it felt great to have our whole family under the same roof again. It was especially nice to have both boys back together. They agreed.

Back to the same old games

The day flew by and at 7:00p.m., I decided I should get my butt in gear and think about what we would have for dinner. An impressive 30 minutes later, I had a full meal on the table! After realizing that my pantry is nearly bare (I haven't gone grocery shopping in two weeks), I opted for my favorite, quick meal of pasta and almost homemade sauce. I say "almost" homemade because I use canned tomatoes. Some people may think that is taboo but I find that fresh tomatoes are not always in the best shape or even in season (it's hit or miss for us- mostly miss) but you can be always be guaranteed great tasting tomatoes out of a can so long as you simmer them for a good 15 minutes. While the tomatoes simmer, I throw in fresh garlic, salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, balsamic vinegar (secret ingredient!), and freshly grated parmesan cheese. I poured the pasta sauce over whole wheat spagethi, accompanied it with chicken-artichoke sausages from Costco (amazing!), and paired it with homemade garlic breadsticks (actually and truly homemade). I whip up the breadstick dough in advance, let it rise once, shape it into breadsticks, and keep them in the freezer until I need to bake them.

As I was smack in the middle of fixing dinner, my boss texted me and asked if I had time to talk about a case. I gave him a call and we talked strategy about two motions we have pending. With one hand holding my phone and the other hand alternating between stirring the sauce, checking the breadsticks, and gesturing widly in the air to match the enthusiasm in my voice, we outlined a response to one motion and a reply to another. It was kind of surreal to talk about sanctions and court rules as I contemporaneously put dinner on the table. Did I ever mention that I love litigation?

And noow, even though the kids are in bed, I am sitting for the first time all day, and I have the entire evening to unwind on the couch, I am so worked-up and excited to put my thoughts into cleverly crafted arguments that I'm researching and briefing away instead. This is proof that I really do love litigation. I don't willingly scrifice my one hour of Facebook/Pinterest catch-up time for just anything!

Notches In The Lawyer Belt

I strolled into the office this morning expecting a very quiet Thursday. I ended up with a wonderful, awesome, stressful hot mess.

My boss called me at about 9:30 telling me that he was not able to come into the office today and needed my help with something. "Sure," I replied. I assumed that he wanted me to draft a motion or do some legal research on an obscure area of law.

"I need you to cover a mediation."

"Ha ha ha."

"I know I joke around a lot. But I'm absolutely serious."

"Ha ha ha....wait....wha???"

"I need you to cover a mediation. It starts at 2."

"You mean as in 4.5 hours?"

"Yes. It's on the X case"

If you could have turned life into a still shot at that very moment, you would have seen the look of pure terror fall across my face like a curtain. You know that scene in Jurassic Park where the little girl escapes from the upturned car and turns around to find a gigantic T-Rex staring at her? She looked like this:

Yeah. That is exactly how I felt.

Not only have I never heard of this case before, but I have never handled a mediation on my own before. In fact, I had only participated in one, as second-chair to a partner about three years ago. On top of that stress, I was woefully underdressed for a mediation. My light grey skirt did NOT match the tweed suit jacket that I had shoved into my drawer in case of last minute client meetings. Plus, I managed to rip my panty hose the second I walked into the office just half an hour earlier. The second that happened, I just had one of those feelings that today was going to be an interesting day.

I hunkered down, pulled the file, read every report, caught up on pertinent medical records, added up the special damages, and tried to diagram the names of all the parties and participants. Just my luck, this case involved three different collisions and several layers of automobile insurance. I learned what little I could in three hours, packed up the case files, and headed downtown towards the mediation, making an emergency 3 minute stop at Ann Taylor Loft to purchase the first black skirt and pair of sheer hose that I could find, then I barrelled awkwardly down the streets in the rain dragging a 50 pound box of case files on wheels behind me.

But it was all worth it. The mediation was fantastic! There was another party aligned with our interests and the attorney and I sat in the same room and strategized and joked and told stories. The other attorney was very experienced and had good ideas for getting the case settled. He was hilarious and entertaining and even made crude jokes (my favorite kind).

It was a complicated case with a lot of things going haywire. It took nearly three hours before we got the opening demand from the plaintiff. We finally settled the case at 7 o'clock pm (mediation was supposed to go from 2pm to 6pm). And although it was stressful and crazy and unexpected and long, it was such a great experience.

Although the day was full of challenges, I walked out of the room feeling proud and re-energized to be part of the legal profession. The people I spent the day with were not only intelligent and creative thinkers who did a great job of representing their clients, but they were professional in dealing with the case, and, during the periods of downtime, were a blast to chat with.

The topics of our conversations during downtime were so derailed that I one point (in front of my boss who joined us at the end of the mediation), we were discussing potty training boys and, in front of a room full of clients and lawyers, I offered up this brilliant piece of poetry:"If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweety, wipe the seaty."... I groaned internally as I was saying it but, thankfully, the only responses were chuckles and laughs.

At one point in the middle of the mediation, I looked around the table and found myself surrounded by middle age to older men from all walks and cultures. I was by far the youngest attorney present. I was the only female. But as we all sat around talking about our children, parenting, interesting cases, war stories, and the legal profession in general, I found myself oddly at ease. I felt that I had more in common with them than not. And although I was the youngest and most unexperienced in the room, they made me feel as if I was a valuable asset to the mediation and gave me an opportunity to speak my two cents.

So now, I have two mediations under my belt. And while that is not a lot, that is 100% more than yesterday. This is pretty much the only way to gain experience as a lawyer--by looking anxiety right in the eyeball, throwing yourself into the chaos, and one-by-one, adding small notches to your lawyer belt.

A Margarita Worthy Day

Today was awesome. My boss and I finished drafting an appellate brief. (I love researching and briefing. I may suck at organizing tangible things but I love organizing arguments!) A large part of our brief is based upon briefing my boss already did at the trial court level. But I was able to expand on it using some of my own my additional research. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty dang proud of our combined efforts.

When my boss handed me a copy of the brief for a final review (and so I could take on the monotonous task of adding page numbers to the table of contents and table of authorities...yuk!), I noticed that he had added my name and bar number to the cover page as co-counsel. This means that if the decision gets published, my name will be attached to an appellate opinion! This is so cool (unless of course we get creamed by the Court of Appeals, then maybe not so cool).

Is it weird that I am more excited about this than I was for Christmas?

Another task I thoroughly enjoy at work is explaining the process of litigation to non-lawyers. I love when I have the opportunity to explain what little I know about rules, procedures, and strategy to clients. And since I work for a new firm, we have some new-hires and support staff that are not that familiar with civil litigation. I'm not the best teacher but I do enjoy the challenge. All these little opportunities to teach and explain to others may eventually (and hopefully) make me a better oral advocate for trials and hearings. Because right now, I'm pretty much just lucky when I don't stutter over a big word or when I actually remember that one specific words that I am thinking of in my brain.

After we finished the brief, I tackled a lot of things on my to-do list, and cleared(ish) off my desk. It feels good to clear the clutter. I'm pretty sure this occassion calls for a margarita! (Or maybe I will just settle for my favorite tea with the usual extra creamer and three packs of Splenda?).

Also, can I just say...some people need to NOT post everything on FB. EW.

I give this person a FB time-out.

Doing Time...Out

When I get home from work, the first thing I usually encounter is a recounting of Jacob's behavior of the entire day...given by him....and totally unprompted. When he looks sheepish, I know he has a time-out or two to report. Other times, he will smile wide and exclaim, "I was so good! No time-outs today!" It cracks me up that he feels compelled to tattle on himself.

Although he is pretty good about giving me an honest report card, it's never easy trying to get any details out of the guy! This is precisely why four year olds are not allowed to testify:

Jake: "Mommy, I had to go to time-out four times today."
Me: "Well, what happened? Why did you have to go to time out?"
Jake: "I had to go to time out the first time because Cousin1 was screaming. Then I had to go another time because Cousin2 took away Cousin1's toys. Then another time, Cousin2 was jumping on the furniture so I had to get in trouble. And...I can't remember the rest."

I would love, just for hilarity's sake, to get all the cousins in a room and take turns cross-examining them. Fingers would be pointing in all directions. Hmmm, it's interesting...the similarity between kids and clients.

Speaking of clients and work, I had an incredibly frustrating day today. I left my house at 11:45 a.m. for a 1:30 hearing in a different city. Although it should have been simple and quick, I didn't pick up the kids until 6:30. Not only did the hearing start late but, even though I was there for a simple "housekeeping" matter, ours was the very last case called. So I sat there for 3 hours and listened to all the other attorneys. What's worse is that I had only eaten one piece of toast and one measley yogurt all day. It's hard to listen to bullsh*t for three hours on an empty stomach!

Listening to other attorneys never ceases to shock me. I can't believe the shit judges have to put up with! I overheard one attorney repeatedly swear and rag on his opposing counsel to his client. Gee, I wonder why people hate attorneys! After one particularly painful hearing, an attorney on the losing side made snarky comments to the judge about how unethical opposing counsel's behavior was (btw, it was so definitely NOT unethical) and then even accused the judge of making a borderline unethical ruling. I don't know what planet THESE people come from, but I pretty much thought it was a universal rule that you do NOT insult the judge?! Right? Am I crazy?!

Then during another hearing, one attorney was very upset things weren't going his way and kept making sarcastic comments, complete with grandious and dramatic hand gestures to portray his exasperation with the court and the other party. He even made the pro-se party on the other side (who declared through sobs that she is undergoing cancer treatment) cry during the hearing! Things were so surreal that I forgot I was watching real court hearings. I'm sure I noticibly gasped and chuckled as if I was in the audience of a Judge Judy taping.

My favorite hearings of the day were the ones involving pro-se parties. One pro-se party asked the court to strike the other side's supporting declaration on the basis that he didn't know the person signing the declaration. To top it off, this guy had the squeakiest shoes on the planet. They didn't make a normal squeaky noise though. They made a mini-whoopie cushion fart noise each time he took a step toward or away from the bench.

After three hours of THAT. My head hurt from all the ridiculousness and my butt hurt from three hours of sitting. And when we finally were called, we discovered that our hearing had to be continued anyway. Geez! At least I learned a lot about how NOT to behave before a judge.

As if I hadn't had enough circus for one day, when I picked up the kids, Jacob was dressed like this:

He refused to take the wig off even for a quick trip to the grocery store, during the middle of which, somewhere between dried cereal and baking supplies, he loudly screamed that he "had to POOP!" When I asked if he could hold it until we paid for groceries, he screamed even louder (to the joy of everyone around us) "NO, THERE IS A HUGE POOP TRYING TO COME OUT OF MY BUTT. I'M POOPING OUT MY CHICKEN AND RICE."

It was lovely.

And Ryan was, as always, such a breeze. He is such an easy and happy baby that he barely makes the blog anymore.