Lots Of F-Words

Oh, this week.

I don't even know how to describe it. Frazzled, frustrating, frugal, ferocious, funny. That's actually quite accurate.

Let's start with frazzled and frustrated. Our morning and evening routines have changed a lot since our move. We moved about 30 minutes away from our old neighborhood. My husband and I now travel in opposite directions to work. Jacob stays in town for school. Ryan is sometimes in town at his preschool and sometimes in another town with his babysitter. Jon is mostly with the babysitter. Most days, the five of us are in four different cities (yikes). Logistically and economically, it makes most sense for me to take all the children to their various locations in the morning.

I'm doing all the morning routines myself and the new routine is still...well, new. Tuesday I forgot to bring Jon's play pen to the babysitter's. On Thursday, I forgot to leave his car seat. On Wednesday, I dropped Jacob off an hour too early for school (schools: hey, let's start an hour later one day a week just to eff with all the working parent!). On Friday, I forgot to put all of Jacob's weekly homework in his homework folder. On top of all this, I had two court hearings on Friday. Each one was in a different city and they were only two hours apart. I didn't eat a single morsel of food until 2pm that day.

It's challenging to remember to pack all the kids' lunches, my lunch, my breakfast, my purse/work bag, and Jon's diaper bag. It's also challenging to dress all the children, dress myself, feed all the children, change the baby's diaper, make the baby's bottle, check backpacks for homework, and load everyone in the car. My husband used to do this half the week but now that I'm doing all the morning driving, it's automatically fallen on me (because he leaves an hour earlier). I'm clearly going to need to start training him to pitch in. Because this craziness is not working.

On to frugal. As soon as I had just about paid off both Ryan and Jon's c-section bills, Ryan had to have a LOT of dental work. (I paid HOW MUCH for teeth that will just fall out in three years?) And it was expensive. I long for the day when I do not owe any medical bills. It will honestly feel magical. Out of all the bills to have, medical bills are simply the worst. If it was a credit card bill I could at least enjoy the purchase I made. I guess I can enjoy the fact that Ryan has a perfect mouth of teeth. But that's just not as exciting as a new (or, in this case, SIX new) pairs of boots.

My student loan payment is set to increase at the same time we owe our first mortgage on the new house. And we need a couple big ticket items for the new house- like a pantry. Right now, all of our food is in boxes (how can a house just NOT have a pantry?). And a dining table (we're eating all our meals at the kitchen island). And the big boys need beds. The old bunkbed won't fit. They are currently sleeping on mattresses on the floor: CAMPING!

All this prodded me to scrutinize our spending a little more closely. Holy wow. I spent way too much on chocolate and groceries. I have put myself on a tight chocolate budget. You guys don't understand. Chocolate is honestly my only vice and addiction (ok fine, Diet Dr. Pepper too). I don't drink a lot of alcohol. I don't drink fancy lattes or coffee in general. I don't go on shopping sprees. I don't spend money on entertainment or music. Chocolate is my thing. I'm an addict. It's normal for me to eat a bite-sized piece of chocolate at 9am. I wake up in the morning and my first thought is....how much longer before I can eat a piece of chocolate and not feel too guilty? The answer is usually: 45 minutes. So my chocolate budget is a huge deal.

I've also imposed a cap on grocery spending. I can easily (without trying) spend $200 a week to feed our family of 4.5 (Jon is the .5). That's insane. But I like to cook. I pride myself on quality meals with fresh and quality ingredients. I don't like short cuts in the food category. I like to have all the real ingredients rather than just making-do with what we already have (which is my mom's specialty). But I decided that it will not be the end of the world if I make my family eat hot dogs and canned soup once (or twice) a week. According to the kids, this is what they serve for dinner in heaven.

Ferocious: I've suddenly settled into an amazing level of self-confidence at work. Things have just kind of clicked. I used to hate speaking up in meetings. I used to hate oral arguments in court. I used to be very hesitant about making suggestions. A flurry of court appearances and the benefit of new experiences have given me a new footing in my self esteem.

Finally, funny. My kids drive me up the wall 50% of our time together. The other 50% it's complete and utter joy. Parenting seems to come at me in the extremes. The mix of utter exhaustion and loss of sanity with immeasurable love and pride makes for unpredictable parenting weather. At the end of each day, I'm completed drained, with barely enough energy to brush my teeth with an electric toothbrush. But when I collapse into bed and think of the highlights of the day, I know there is no other place I would rather be. Someday the boys will be older and need me less. I will be very much less a part of their every day functioning and routine. I only hope I will love that phase just as much as I love being their everything right now.

Some of this week's kid highlights:

We bought Ryan a second-hand dinosaur costume for Halloween. He will NOT take it off. Want to put a smile on a stranger's face? Take a dinosaur to the grocery store. Or the bank. Or the mall. Or the park. Smiles followed us everywhere.

Ryan is the funniest person I have ever met. When Jacob tells me a story about his day, Ryan will hijack the story halfway through with his own (very similar) nonsensical made up story about HIS day.

Jacob: "At school, some kids don't get a long with Spencer. Today, Zack actually slapped Spender in the face and ...
Ryan: "Guess what. At MY school. There's a kid named Spincher. And he jumped on the table and threw his stinky socks at everyone's face!"

When we try to interrupt him, he scolds us, "you have to wait your turn!" He told me he has five kids named Matt in his class (not true). He then told me that they were all actually named "Manis." (not true). He told me that one kid punched him in the face at the playground (not true). When I told him he was tricking me he said, "He DID punch me! I saw him!" He wants to eat yogurt and "granilla" (granola) for breakfast every morning. And he refuses to eat a hot dog unless I call it a "cold dog." Because DUH he can't eat food that's hot.

Photo-collage of Ryanosaurus

It's going to be a LONG month before Halloween.

Also, I present to you, Ryan's favorite socks. Ryan recommends that any good pair of snowman socks be paired with plaid shorts and light-up Avengers shoes.

Today we celebrated Jacob's 7th birthday at Chuck-E-Cheese. He got to go into a ticket blaster- a hurricane simulator machine that shoots tons of prize tickets all around the birthday child. The joy on his face just cannot be described. He emerged from the blaster with tons of tickets in his shirt (he had strategized ahead of time making his shirt into a pouch to catch the tickets) and with two hanging from his mouth (he caught them with his teeth). All morning long, he had been begging me to let him put his face into his slice of cake. I think he saw someone on TV do it. My response was, "why not?!" So, when it was cake time, he shoved his face into his frosting, then proceeded to run around the entire Chuck E Cheese yelling, "I'm HYPER! I'm HYPER." I wasn't mad because: better at Chuck E Cheese than at home, right?

I don't have any Jon stories tonight. Other than I'm 95% sure that he is actually calling me "mama." He's said "mama" and "mamamama" for several months but this week he's been doing it when he clearly wants me to hold him. He will crawl up to me, pull himself up to my leg and say, "mamama." It seems very intentional and it melts my heart. So, let me have my fantasies.

When You Squeeze An Orange

Friday night, after the kids were all snoring in their beds, I pulled out a bottle of wine from the back of the fridge and slowly but steadily drank almost the entire thing during my TV date with my husband.

I fell asleep and, for the first time all week, I didn't wake up until it was actually morning. When I did wake up (when the kids woke me up at 6:45) to make the kids some cereal (like I was going to make an omelette and french toast) and saw the bottle just staring at me from inside of the fridge, I wanted to feel bad. But I didn't. My week had been insane and I had earned every single drop.

The past week involved so many stressful tasks, all unfolding at the same exact time. This resulted in three work-until-midnight evenings (but I was still able to come home and eat dinner and put the kids to bed).

All week long I looked like a walking zombie. Not only was I going to bed late, but Jon caught a cold on Monday and woke up multiple times every night. One night he just wouldn't go back to sleep no matter what I did and I was so tired and desperate (he shares our room) that I put his travel crib in the living room and let him cry it out for a while. I don't know when he stopped crying because I fell asleep almost instantly (I kinda hate to admit that very bad mommy low on the internet, but hey, I'm just keeping it real). Can't wait until he has his own room!

But this week wasn't ALL about work.

On Wednesday, I spent three hours with my kids at the county fair. Jacob wanted to go on ALL the scary rides. These are rides that even I would never go on- like, the ones that go completely UPSIDE DOWN. Thankfully, he didn't meet the height requirement so I had an excuse to tell him "no." Hey, sorry bud. I don't make the rules! What am I going to do in two years when he actually does meet the height requirements, ugh!

Sorry Jacob, no Twister Of Doom ride but how about this Happy Birthday Llama?

Cool beans, huh?

On Thursday night, Jacob had a meet and greet for his new school. The event was from 4-5. I cleared my afternoon calendar to make sure I could leave work early to pick him up at the babysitter's and take him to meet his new teacher and find his classroom. Then noon rolled around, and with it, a giant sh*t storm. At 3:30 I was just about to head out the door when my phone blew up with another emergency that I just couldn't ignore.

At 4:00, I ran frantically out the door to get the kids and we pulled into the school parking lot at 4:56. I scrambled to get all the kids out of their car seats and sprinted to the front door of the school just as they were announcing for people to leave the building. I'm pretty sure I yelled "EFF THAT!" as I blurred past the office secretaries carrying a 23 pound infant while herding two overwhelmed kids through the maze of hallways and crowds of people traveling in the opposite direction. We finally got to Jacob's new classroom, said a frantic "hi" to the teacher, and found Jacob's desk before they kicked everyone out to lock up the building.

When I pictured introducing Jacob to his new school to ease his nerves and calm his worries, I didn't exactly picture THAT.

When I finally caught my breath, I took the kids out to play on the playground. I glanced around at all the parents chatting happily, drinking the refreshments that had been served earlier in the event, and gossiping about the teachers while their kids played. Stepping from my crazy afternoon to this relaxed scene, I just had to laugh. Only in my world would a "meet and greet" be that stressful. Things are that crazy for ALL working moms, right? Because I swear I feel like I live on a separate planet from everyone else sometimes.

Playing at the new school

This would be a great picture definition of the word "brothers."

This sign was posted at the gate to the playground...

Ok, who's the pig that ruined it for everyone else?

Today, my husband tackled the long list of home improvement items needed to make our home rental friendly and so I had the three kids to myself. I took ALL three of them to the mall to run an errand, then to Target for school shopping, then to the grocery store. The entire excursion took three hours but it felt like ten. At one point, there was a call to poison control. At another point, there was human poop on my shoe. At a third point, I was standing in a sea of spilled pencils.

"Hello, poison control? My son chewed on an electronic toy and swallowed orange gunk. Yes, "orange gunk" IS the technical term"

Jon likes orange gunk and teriyaki equally.

At Target, I had a napless baby in the cart, a three year old who kept jumping on and off the front end of the cart while it was still in motion and who was so excited about all the shopping that he kept pulling everything off every shelf to bring to me for purchase (sorry, we don't need six packets of Batman washcloths), and a six year old who kept running off and nearly caused thirty separate cart collisions. At the grocery store, Jacob and Ryan were opening the closing all the doors in the freezer section, picking frost off the shelves, and eating it ("look, we're eating SNOW!"). I loudly responded with, "Why are you kids following me? You should go find your mommy," before I marched away down the aisle. They didn't think that was amusing at all.

And then, after a trip like that, I see people on Facebook complaining about the store not having diapers in their favorite print and I'm all like, "Do I honestly live in the same world as people who consider diaper print to be a big source of stress?"

So yeah...all that just to provide the context for this:

You know what though? Even when things are at their craziest, I think I secretly love it. I think there's a masochist deep down inside me waiting to come out. And that masochist probably wants me to adopt like three more diaper-wearing children.

Because while kids do bring an insane amount of unnecessary stress, there are also many moments like these:

Big pile hug Mommy!

Hello, there is a panda in my garden

I read a great post on Facebook tonight. I'm not nearly eloquent enough to give it justice but it goes something like this: when you squeeze an orange, what comes out? Well, orange juice duh. Why? Because that's what's inside. When we get squeezed under the stress of life, what comes out? Anger, pain, fear? Because that's what's inside us?

The point is a great one. It's easy to pretend to be a great person. You find out who you really are when things get tough. So, when things get tough, we control what comes out. I absolutely love that.

Unfortunately, all that came out of me this week was some yelling, a bottle of wine, and a great big buzz.

***

 In other news, our home will officially be a rental in TWO short-long WEEKS!

So Many Things...So Little Time!

I worked some crazy-ass hours last week. I worked 50 hours during the week (M-F) and then topped it off with 9 more hours on the weekend. This might be nothing for a law firm attorney. But it's a heck of a lot for THIS government lawyer!

This past week involved so many intense emotions. On one particular day, I was having a fantastic day as a mom and an attorney. I felt transcendentally happy and successful in all aspects of my life. I drove to work with my favorite song blasting on the radio after I had just killed the entire morning with mommy excellence- I made pancakes, from scratch; I dressed all the children; we laughed and joked as we got out the door; there were no tears or tantrums. I sat in my work parking lot waiting for the song to end, rocking out and banging my head against the air. I was, a million times over, a rockstar.

Just a typical crazy morning

The very next day Ryan was a total nightmare, I was exhausted, and Jon was fussy. This was NOT a good combo. I may have thrown a chair against the floor (while the children were all safe in their rooms screaming or crying over something). I was the embodiment of Mommy Hulk. It was not a pleasant thing, for anyone.

This weekend, emotions mostly evened out and we celebrated Ryan's third birthday. I cannot believe this guy is three. He is sweet and hilarious and a demon all at the same time.

Birthday cinnamon rolls

Today Ryan was refusing to share the Icee I bought the boys to share (after our long trip to the park).

Ryan: "I don't want to share!"
Me: "You can share or you can have nothing."
Ryan: "I'll have nothing."
Me: "Fine."
Ryan: "WHERE'S MY NOTHING!"
Me: "You don't get anything. Nothing means you get zero."
Ryan: "I WANT MY ZERO. GIVE ME NOTHING!"

I don't think he quite caught on.

Happy Birthday Ry-Guy

All the kids loved helping Ryan. He loved being the center of attention.

In addition to Ninja Turtle PJs and shoes and a slew of monster trucks, Spongebob was a favorite

Jon had a teeny accident on grandpa

On Sunday we also celebrated Jon's baptism. This happened at 9:30 am and Ry's birthday was at 11:00am. We were a little "scrambly" that morning. Yes, that's a technical term.

All my boys!

Same boys after an hour of sitting not-so-nicely in church

Jon with grandpa and god-father. I love this candid shot!

Jon wasn't so sure about being baptized. Dear God, don't take it personally!

So that's kind of why I've been MIA..... At some point, I may get to posting Easter photos.

Hello, Desk

As mentioned previously, I had to return to work one month earlier than planned in order to keep my health benefits. Today was my first day back. I kept telling everyone, "I'm here so I don't get fined" referencing the now-famous utterance of Seahawk Marshawn Lynch on media day. Yeah, I thought I was clever.

I decided to ease myself back into this whole working thing and just showed up for a half day today. For some reason, my two youngest children decided that the two nights before mommy goes back to work would be a great time to start waking up every hour. Without exaggeration, I can confidently say that I have only slept in 30 minutes intervals the past two nights, and only for a grand total of three hours a night. So today was a little bit brutal.

I was going to bring Jon in and show him off (my boss keeps saying that I can bring him to work with me!), but he caught some terrible bug (Super Bowl hangover perhaps?). So at my mom's suggestion, I took Jake instead.

He had a great time drawing and playing Angry Birds and answering all the calls from opposing counsel:

One of my FB friends pointed out the baby wipes on my desk as a dead give-away that I am a mom. so true! I always keep baby wipes with me. They are amazing.

At one point I left Jacob in my office with instructions to stay there and play Legos while I sat down for a meeting with a Division Chief. Halfway through our meeting, he comes waltzing in with a handful of various snacks and goodies from my coworkers. "Mom, look at this can of ravioli that Mr. Matt gave me! He told me to call him the 'snack man.' And I found this piece of chocolate under a desk." I'm pretty sure he scrounged up all the free snacks in the entire office.

I'm being assigned a bunch of new cases regarding civil litigation defense and I am so so excited to get my hands on them. I LOVE analyzing case law, investigating the gambit of relevant facts, preparing liability assessments, strategizing plans for litigation, and drafting motions to carry out those plans. I feel like this is where I really shine. And it's my favorite thing in the world. Sometimes I feel so lucky that I have a job where I get paid to do stuff that I legitimately love. Not all tasks and projects are fun. But overall, I really love this little area of the law.

I only worked for half of a day but it was just the right amount for my first day back. I need to get used to sitting in front of a computer all day and focusing on just mental tasks. And dang, I'm really going to miss my indulgent daytime television (The Chew, The Talk, Let's Make A Deal, and the Ellen Show). But it's nice to join the land of the working. I get to sit down and actually enjoy a cup of tea. I get to eat lunch with BOTH hands. I get to have a conversion that is not broken off by a screaming baby. I don't have to share my snacks with little urchins. And I get to use my lawyer brain (you know, the one that cost me about half a mortgage).

Also, with my new permanent position, came this bright, shiny badge.

Seriously, this badge takes the cake! I didn't know lawyers got badges! If I had known this, I would have grumbled a lot less during law school (maybe?).

Returning home from work was amazing. I snuggled my poor, sick baby all evening and we somehow managed a 1.5 hour nap together without the big kids destroying too much of anything.

During my maternity leave, I couldn't wait to sneak out of the house. I was totally drained. So many diapers. So many tantrums. So many fussy, non-sleeping people. I was deep in the trenches and it felt like they would never end but just grow deeper and deeper. Being away for part of the day makes a huge difference. It really lets me see everything in the appropriate perspective. It lets me appreciate how short and fleeting the time with my babies is. I come home refreshed and ready to tackle the mommy parts of my day. I have so much more patience. I appreciate the shorter time I have with them. There is so much less yelling. As much as I love my children, nothing makes me a better mommy than going back to work. And I'll stand by this statement to my grave!

After the kids got ready for bed, we all sat at the table and played a game of chess. I can't even remember the last time I had the energy or the will to sit down and play a game with my kids:

Ryan and Mommy versus Jacob

So goodbye sweet-last-but-also-kinda-disappointing maternity leave and hello the rest of my career.

Cut Short

You know why having a blog is so great? Because it allows you to just talk when you need to talk. Even if you don't have a present audience or a great listening ear on hand. And you don't have to worry about bothering people or boring people or whining someone to death. People can come to the blog when/if they want and leave when/if they want.

I don't have a ton of real life friends who are working moms. So I feel like I don't have a real life audience for my thoughts and worries and good news related to both working and parenting. The people I've met through this blog are so special. You all give me that community that I can't seem to find in real life. So, blogs are awesome. And thank you so much.

When I was planing my maternity leave, I was told that I had 12 weeks of FMLA time (unpaid). On top of that, my employer also allowed me to have 6-8 weeks of disability leave (unpaid). So I planned to take four months off. This was the plan up until two days ago, when the HR department sent me a letter telling me that if I did not return to work next month, I wouldn't get any medical benefits. Yeah...this would have been nice to know three months ago! So instead of having five more weeks at home, I now have just one more week. This was almost soul-crushing news.

I have one week. AHHH. My baby is only three months old! I'm so not ready to leave him. I'm so not ready to put my very last maternity leave behind me. This is especially true considering that this maternity leave has been particularly difficult: Jon had one entire month of non-stop colic (pure torture), Ryan has been a particularly difficult two year old, the weather has mostly been too blah to take the kids outside, and I've been way too exhausted to plan fun activities. Now I have just one more week to soak it all in and mentally and psychologically prepare for going back to work?!

The biggest upside to going back to work is that I have a brand new position. The day Jon was born, I was officially given a permanent position with my employer.

But after the dust settles and work starts to feel like real life and not just a temporary adventure away from the house, I'm going to be really sad about leaving my last and final baby every morning. The sadness is just too much to think about.

One week is just not enough.

One Day Down!

I wish, wish, wish I could talk about my trial. I just finished day one and it has been an incredible, informative, amazing, and challenging experience.

30 weeks. A ridiculous sight:

Coming home and taking off my tights and my suit was the most amazing feeling EVER. Now, after a ten hour day, I get to unwind and do nothing trial related for an hour before I have to dive back into preparing for tomorrow. I forgot how much work this is! My brain feels like a large puddle of goo from all the thinking and strategizing and analyzing it has done all day. It's true what they say: your brain is a muscle! Wait, do people say that?

And now I must don a cloak of silence and not talk about my exciting trial adventures. But take note, they are VERY EXCITING!

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.

No Time For Talky

Holy Mackerel! (I love that saying only because my dad says it all the time so it has started to infiltrate into my own conversations with myself prompting amusing imagery of my dad).

I am insanely busy at work. And then on top of work, there's the kids, and trips to the park, and running, and our primary family car breaking down an hour from home, and a broken kitchen sink which resulted in leaking all over our basement and total replacement of all the pipes (yay for husband and father-in-law who did all the work).

We are also preparing for a road trip to attend a family reunion. I get the feeling I'll be packing one hour before take off.

I guess I have to go now. I have to be up in five hours. Seriously, who even has time to be pregnant? (I haven't remembered to take a prenatal vitamin since I was 10 weeks along...oops).

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!

Wherein The Gravity Of The Situation Sets In

Oh. Em. Gee.

Sometimes, being a working mom with two kids is really hard. Not just hard....painful. Like having your wisdom teeth pulled kind of painful. Or having 10 paper cuts on your lip. Or the one time you go to the grocery store looking like a creature from the swamp (who am I kidding, that's every time!), and the guy in line in front of you is incredibly hot and he gives you a look like, "oh, a street urchin" and you want to reply to his unimpressed glances by saying, "no, I swear, I really look good when I try...I promise. Just yesterday a 45 year old man at Red Robin couldn't keep his eyes off me!" Then you realize you will be turning 30 this year and you already regularly shop at the grocery store wearing yoga pants and a baseball hat just like all those OTHER moms you swore you would never be...you know, the kind that simply have given up. Yeah, that kind of painful.

Tonight, I was grilling corn, boiling potatoes, and cooking pork chops all at the same time, when a smell erupted from the living room. Ryan had pooped. Third time since we arrived home an hour earlier. I stepped away from all three cooking items to change his diaper. While I was changing his diaper, I was trying to keep him from wriggling away and I was also handling a temper tantrum from Jacob who was pouting because Ryan was holding the TV remote.

After things were...managed (but not quite settled), I returned to the kitchen to watch as the buttermilk in my gravy was curdling before my very eyes. I dumped it out to start from scratch when I could smell burning coming from the grill, with the gravy pan still in my hand, I rushed out to salvage the corn. As I passed the living room Ryan was kicking Jacob (who had stolen back the remote) and Jacob was screaming in return. Right at that moment, I looked at my life and thought, "How the hell are we going to have a third kid?" (Tonight was my husband's gym night, which is why I was fending for myself).

Between a five year old's stubborn insolence and a two year old's violent tantrums, how are two working parents going to handle a newborn?! Some days, I'm so rushed in the morning, I forget to put on deodorant. Some days, I'm so exhausted at night that I lay on my bed to rest my back and wake up seven hours later. That would be a rare full night of sleep (most nights, I only get 5.5 hours). Some days, I'm so frustrated with my children that I gleefully entertain the thought of creating a child'sized jail cell in our basement. Today, I was so exhausted that as I was standing at the gas pump, I totally forgot my phone number for two whole, long minutes. Then I forgot how to put gas in my car and ended up spraying gasoline all over my shoes and my (better believe it!) yoga pants. At least I had the common sense NOT to blast my seat warmers on the way home. I don't know how I would explain the spontaneous combustion of my gasoline soaked butt to an insurance agent.

Today at my office desk, I was knee deep in a complex motion and just had my ear yelled off by a very angry opposing counsel. Then a miracle happened. My OB's office number appeared across my cell phone. They were answering a voicemail I had left earlier about some weird symptoms I had been having. The lady on the other end offered me a proposition, "Your symptoms are generally harmless. But to put your mind at ease we can have you come in to do a check on your thyroid."

I thought about the long motion in front of me. "Will this involve taking my blood?"

"Yes, we'll have you come down and we'll take a vial or two of blood. It's really simple."

Hmmm. Sit in front of my computer while employment law causes caverns of my brain to implode inside my head as my inbox fills up with threatening emails from opposing counsel or sit in a quiet room at my OB's office while they poke my arm with needles? It was not a hard decision. I told them I would be right there.

I arrived at the office and was taken to the back room. And for the next 10 minutes, I was the center of attention. It was all about me. Wow, when was the last time everything was all about me? I mentioned that I was a fainter (which is true but I've learned that if you say this, you get special treatment) so they nurse took me to a quiet room in the back with a giant, overstuffed leather recliner. I sprawled out on that chair as if I were a queen at a day spa. The nurse brought me crackers and a juice box (for my blood sugar, wink). I sipped that juice box as if it were a fancy umbrella drink and munched those crackers delicately as if they were mini cream cheese sandwiches or asparagus wrapped in a fine prosciutto.

I took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and enjoyed the peace and quiet as I felt a sharp prick in my arm. The pain of the prink lingered much longer than I had anticipated as the nurse filled not one, but two, vials of my blood. And then, all too suddenly, it was over. "You're good to go," the nurse said.

"That's it?" I asked, trying to mask my disappointment. "That was fast. Are you sure you don't need anything else while I'm here? Can I do a glucose test? Do you need to give me a rubella shot?" Whatever the price of admission for ten more minutes in that chair, I would have gladly paid it. When it was clear that there was no convincing the nurse, I popped up out of the chair and went on my way. Back to reality. I would have gladly been pricked ten more times if it meant resting in that quiet room and reclining in that comfy chair just a little longer.

So yeah, I'm slightly over whelmed at times. Luckily, while no day is 100% good, no day is 100% bad either. Even hard days are interspersed with shining little moments that make you swell with pride, that fill your eyes with happy tears, that make you bust a ligament from laughing too hard.

Like when your two year old eats his corn like this:

Or when your five year old sings you a song that he made up.

Or when your baby eats a sandwich like a big boy.

Moments filled with cuddles.

And bonding.

And silliness.

And, yes, even bath tub popsicle time.

Those little moments are the rich fuel that keeps me going through all the moments of frustration and exhaustion. They are so powerful that suddenly, everything is forgotten. Clenched fists and tight jaws turn into hugs and smiles. The strongest anger is flattened in a second. It's hard to stay mad. The innocence and uninhibited play of children evokes a power that is greater than any grudge or negative emotion. A child can make you smile even through the the most haggard exhaustion. What a power to wield, especially coming from such a unwitting and unaware master.

Still, I'm not naive. I know with a third child, the hard moments are going to get harder, and much harder. But I take comfort knowing that the happy moments will, no doubt, get happier. The love will continue to overflow. And I know that while routines will change, and work loads will shift, and emotions may get crazy, we can handle it. We will take it just the way we handle things now: one day at a time (and with a boatload of ice cream sandwiches and very strong margaritas).

Still, I'll never pass up a moment to give blood at a doctor's office. If it means a brief escape from the craziness of life.

Brain-Melt, Interrupted

I have motions coming out of my eyeballs. Not literally. But it feels like it. I'm on page 42 of motion writing for this week. More reply briefs will be due next week. It's not just boiler plate stuff either. Most of my motion brief are for dispositive motions. I wouldn't be surprised if, after this weekend, my eyeballs will have lost the ability to focus on anything that is not back lit. "Oh, you say you are my son? Sorry, my eyeballs do not recognize you because you are not on a computer screen!"

Now that I work for the government, I have been looking into special tuition repayment programs. If I work for the government for ten years, the remainder of my student loan debt will be forgiven! This is pretty awesome considering that I will otherwise not be able to pay off my debt in less than 15-20 years. To qualify for the program, I have to be on a qualifying repayment program. One is based upon income. If I chose income-based repayment, this will reduce my monthly student loan payment by $700! This is incredible! And yes, I currently pay north of $700 per month now.

Although, I am nearly jumping for joy at the thought of having extra money (we currently pay about $700/month for childcare now as well so... it would be like having free childcare- amazing!), I am a little nervous. If I am not able to stay in a government/nonprofit job for 10 years, I will have so much principle left to pay off. Under the income based plan, I would pretty much just be paying a portion of my interest only. Do I roll the dice and take this chance? I hate rolling dice.

My boss has told me repeatedly that they are trying to keep me in a long term position. This gives me hope. But just recently another attorney asked if he could reassign one of clients (a government agency) to me because he was overwhelmed with work. My boss basically told him she couldn't do that because I could be gone tomorrow. This takes away my hope. I hate uncertainty almost as much as I hate rolling the dice.

In other news, today was the Seattle Superbowl Parade. My husband took Jacob while I, unfortunately, had to work. It was pure madness as nearly one million people filled the streets to watch the Seahawks parade by with the Lombardi trophy. Ferries were backed up for hours and my husband had to park over a mile away just to walk to the ferry. Despite this, I was so sad I could not be there. (Apparently Lynch was throwing Skittles! And my husband got pretty close to Russell Wilson.) At least Jacob will have those memories.....

I was really nervous that Jacob would get lost so I wrote my husband's cell phone number on his arm just in case they got separated. In light of the fact that the temps were supposed to hover int he mid-twenties and they would be outside for hours, I also packed a fleece blanket in Jacob's backpack. I don't like how paranoid parenthood has made me.

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.

Seen On The Catwalk

One time, I showed up to work wearing one brown and one black shoe. I didn't even notice until a file clerk pointed it out to me halfway through the day. To my own credit, they were EXACTLY the same shoe...just slightly different colors.

Another time, I wore a cardigan sweater to a night club. 

If you think these things are horrific crimes against fashion, you will be happy to know exactly how far I have come in my short life. (Sadness, I'm going to be 30 this year). When I was a little girl, I met an elderly gentleman named Pete. Pete was from the Philippines. My mom and I visited him in the Old People's Home occasionally. I like to say that I did it solely to give back to my community. Truth is, I did it for the lumpia. 

Anyway, one day, Pete gave second-grade me a hat. It was a maroon trucker-style hat. Except, affixed to each side of the hat, in silver, glittery glory were wings. The wings were shiny and metallic and if they caught the sun at just the right angle, had the power to blind the Cyclopse. The hat looked a heck of a lot like this: 

Man, I loved that hat. I wore it every day. To school. Yes, you read that right. I wore it TO SCHOOL. Everyone complimented my hat. And by everyone I mean only my 65 year old bus driver with a half mouth full of teeth. I thought I was so cool. I thought it made me look fast. But mostly, I just loved those bright, shiny, silver wings. My poor parents. They were such troopers. Letting me express myself in any manner that captured my fancy, such as dressing like a character straight out of a Greek Mythology book. They seriously get mad props for that. I mean, they had to show their faces at PTO meetings. 

One day, my hat suddenly went missing. To this day I have no idea what happened to it. I can't imagine that another kid coveted that hat enough to swipe it. I suspect my dad may have "disappeared" it. 

So, you see, I have come quite a long way when it comes to making myself presentable in society without burning out the corneas of the fashion astute. I still have wardrobe problems. And I still like to express myself in unique ways (such as wearing my cowboy boots to the office on casual Fridays). But when I do pull together a nice outfit or two, as I stand in the mirror admiring my social acceptable color coordination and tasteful (mostly) accessorization, I like to think fondly of wings hats. 

I'm going to be bluntly honest here. Sometimes, the best part about being a lawyer is simply getting an opportunity to dress like a lawyer. When I have an outfit that I particularly like, I like to take a picture of it. Outfit photo have saved me several times from "OMG, I Have Nothing To Wear" 

I collected some photos of my favorite outfits from this past week and posted them below. But I decided my photo collection needed some kid-contribution to liven things up a bit. It's fun to dress up like an adult. But sometimes the exuberance with which a child embraces the world, free from the strings of social conformity, can be inspiring.  

This first outfit would be a pretty simple outfit, if not for....

THESE AMAZING HOUSES! Yes, a house blouse. Every gal should own one. (I love weird/unusual prints- maybe someday I will find a print with silver wings?)

For those days when you just can't decide what to wear, there is always the option of going Full Monty. However, as your friendly lawyer, I would have to advise against wearing this particular outfit to the grocery store:

This casual Friday, I spiced up a boring jeans/t-shirt outfit with my favorite Anne Taylor scarf (and Sperry shoes- my Christmas gift).

 And on Cool Dude Day, Jacob wore his dad's sunglasses indoors. Eye safety does not suddenly stop when you exit the great outdoors, people.

I recently caved in to a year-long desire and bought a chambray shirt. I absolutely love it. I've dressed it up with a pencil skirt for work but it also looks fun with a blazer, boots, and pearls. Date-night ready in 60 seconds!

Sidenote: this outfit was inspired by U.S. Marshall Raylan Givens (Justified). He's one tall drink of water in his no-fail outfit: denim, a blazer, and cowboy boots. I'm just missing a silver star. Oh yeah, and a penis.

And here is Jacob showing us what happens when underwear becomes outerwear. This look is likely to be a big trend this season. Jacob says, "it's all in how you wear it."

And because everyone wants to a tour of my office toilet.....(I really need to invest in more appropriately placed full-length mirrors...and a better camera phone would probably help too.)....This is pretty much my default work outfit: skirt, blouse, and long cardigan. I've been told I dress like a librarian. Considering that my husband STILL has a crush on his high school librarian, I'm ok with that.

Here is Ryan's contribution to the fashion conversation. In true Ryan spirit, he is wearing his binky (most under-utilized fashion accessory ever), one sock, "comfy" pants, and two hats on his head.

Last but not least, Jacob's trying out a special new look of his very own. He lost his second tooth this morning, single-handedly succeeding in cleaning out the tooth fairy. She better start selling some of those teeth on the black market if she wants to keep her fairy gig going.