Watch Out For The Lawyers

The look of disgust.

Unfortunately, I am all too familiar with it. I see it in people's faces every time I tell them I work in personal injury law. If someone asks me what I do and then looks genuinely impressed when I tell them, I lighten the mood by quickly replying, "Yup. Ambulance chaser. It's on my business card."

BUT when I tell people what I do and they look at me with distaste and say, "Oh. You're an ambulance chaser," it's all I can do to keep from lecturing about the ills of tort reform. Besides, only *I* can call myself an ambulance chaser!...Everyone loves to hate a personal injury lawyer. Until they need one.

You want to know the real reason I am so familiar with that look of disgust? Because I used to see it. In the mirror. On my face. Everday. I used to be an insurance defense lawyer. And I used to despise people like me. When I worked on the defense side, lawsuits would come across my desk and I'd read the claims with much humor. REALLY? You have chronic and permanent injury from a fender bender? I'd rip apart medical bills (you know, with my vast understanding of medicine) and automatically, without leaving even a little room for the benefit of the doubt, label all plaintiffs as malignerers.

But I learned something in my short year of working in a personal injury firm. Personal injury law is really about helping people. People who are overwhelmed by their injuries, their paperwork, their car repairs, their medical bills. Personal injury law is about helping clients (pardon the metaphor) to not get run over by insurance companies or overwhelmed by the "process."

I think my favorite part of my job is getting a call from a client who is overwhelmed. I don't like that they are overwhelmed but I love having the opportunity to explain things to them and provide a little bit of comfort and insight. "Don't worry," I get to say. "We will handle that." Then I feel a teeny bit like Superman. But instead of a cape, I have a $100K+ piece of paper. Instead of a theme song, I get dirty looks. Instead of flying or using my x-ray vision to see through John Hamm's clothes, I get to write 15 page demand letters. (close right?)


Today, I was sitting in the dentist chair and making small talk with the assistant/hygenist/helper lady as she waited for my mouth to go numb. She asked me what area of law I worked in. I think she was expecting me to say something grand and romantic, like civil rights or securities. I told her I worked in personal injury. And.....There is was. The look of disgust.

"Oh. Like those people on TV with the ads. The.... ambulance chasers." She replied.

As soon as she said that, I shot up straight in my dental chair. "You know, some people get seriously injured in automobile accidents." I began. "Without a lawyer, insurance companies won't take them seriously." I continued. "Even if their insured is at-fault, many insurance companies won't make a real settlement offer until you take them to court."

She just looked at me blankly. Then she said, "You're the reason my insurance rates are going up."

I was trying so hard to quell the flames threatening to shoot out of my eyeballs and ears.

"Actually...la inshuransh companeeesh are la reeeel reashun your..." oops. My mouth was starting to go numb.

I looked at her again and just soaked up the disgust radiating from her face. Forget it; lost cause....So, I zipped my mouth, sat back in my chair, and tried to fall asleep to the sound of drilling.

Next time, I'm just going to say I'm a trial lawyer.

Right before my dentist appointment/nap.

All I need is a margarita. And a beach

P.S. Since I'm the cause of your insurance rates going up, want to see where your insurance payments go? They go to things like....my new favorite dress! I bought this when I was pregnant. So happy it fits. Thank you dental hygenist for paying your ever increasing insurance rates. You're keeping me well-clothed. (I'm being sarastic in case you didn't pick up on that)

Love this dress from Boden. LOVE!

It was even 1/3 of it's original price!

Spidey Says "Hi"

Within two minutes of meeting Jacob, you will learn at least three things:

1) His name is Jacob
2) He is three and a half
3) He has a Spiderman shirt

Jacob is my social butterfly. If he sees you even LOOKING his way, he will run up to you and cheerfully announce the three facts listed above (in that very same order too). He doesn't care if you're acknowledging him or not. He thinks everyone wants to be his friend. Everyone. And he thinks everyone wants to know about Spiderman.

Overnight it seems, Jacob has become totally obsessed with Spiderman. We have no idea where he even HEARD about the guy. We certainly never talked about him. Then all of a sudden, Jacob was dancing around the house, jumping from furniture to furniture shooting pretend spiderwebs out of his wrists. At first, I just thought he had developed turrets syndrome, or worse yet, his father's dancing skills. Nope, just a Spiderman obsession.

Jacob's birthday is around the corner and he has informed us that he wants a Spiderman party. I've scoured Pinterest and Google for good Spiderman party ideas. But everything out there is pretty lame. Then I got an idea. What if Spiderman crashed Jacob's party?! It didn't take long to track down a Spiderman costume. It took slightly longer to convince my 13 year old brother to dress the part. I can't wait to see Jacob's face.

Last weekend I picked up the costume and hid it in the far reaches of my closet- we're talking actual spider territory here. It's been sitting there waiting for it's day of glory ever since. UNTIL....this afternoon. Today, I got home from work before my husband and the kids. I went to my closet to grab my yoga pants when a bright red and blue, shiny piece of spandex caught my eye. It was the Spiderman costume. And it was calling my name. I mean, I have the thing rented for an entire month, so I might as well get my money's worth. Right? Right?!!

It was a little big. But I thought I looked pretty awesome.

Then I had another idea!

A great fix for bad hair days

I quickly whipped out the camera, set the timer, and took photos of "Spiderman" in various places in the house. I'm going to print these photos out and leave them in a note to Jacob from, who else but Spidey himself. (After I photoshop my hair out of the pictures of course). The note will say something like, "Dear Jacob, I came to visit but you were not here! Thank you for letting me take a nap in your bed and play with your trains. Can I come to your birthday party?"

I think I'm going to be more excited than Jacob!

P.S. - I make a pretty good Spiderman huh? I kept trying to pose in such a way that my boobs wouldn't be too obvious. Note to self, spandex suits flatter the chest....

P.P.S. - do you think playing Spiderman for an afternoon will finally put an end to my erotic Spiderman dreams?

One-Third....And One Turd

Someone around here is one-third of a year old, or 4 months for those of you lawyers who are bad at math (not judging, I totally had to double check that number with my fingers).

I cannot believe this guy is 4 months old. I can't remember what life was like before him. It's cliche, but it's so true. The week before he was born, I had a mini-panic attack at the thought of our family dynamic changing from 3 people to 4. But Ryan has brought so many blessings....and, yes, "blessings" is code for "factors that contribute to Mommy's sleep deprivation."

I left the office early today to meet my mom at the doctor's office for Ryan's 4 month check-up. I picked the kids up in the parking lot and we headed inside. Here's a little tip: if you have a 4 year old boy, do NOT bring him to the doctor's office. In fact, just don't bring him anywhere.

Jacob has a Playschool toy barn that opens up so you can put farm animals inside. Except all the animals have been evicted and it is now the home of 27 matchbox cars. I thought it would be the perfect toy to bring to Ryan's check up. Once again....I was outsmarted by a 3 year old.

The doctor walked into our exam room and began to ask me questions about Ryan's development as she checked his ears. Jacob decided that it would be an ideal time to dump out his cars.

"How has Ryan been eating?" The doctor asked

KABLAM. CRASH. Jacob dumped out half the cars.

"He eats about 5-6 ounces every 4 hours, I explained."

BOOM. CLANG. There went the other half.

The doctor looked at Jacob and asked if he could please play with his toys more quietly. Ooops. My kid was being loud? I didn't notice. I honestly don't notice noise anymore. Like when the TV is on all day and you stop hearing it. "Kid noise" has all become a background hum. And thank goodness for that. It's a mommy defense mechanism.

"Tell me about his sleeping patterns." The doctor continued.

"Well...." I began.

ZOOM. ZOOM. CRASH! ZOOM. ZOOM. CRASH!

Jacob stopped dumping out his cars and was now sending them flying off the metal chairs. They were landing anywhere withing a 4 foot radius, crashing into walls, chairs, and other ill-fated toy vehicles.

"Jacob, please stop." I told him. He snuck three more zooms in before the threat of time-out convinced him to stop. I turned towards the doctor again when Jacob suddenly jumped onto the diaperbag and I heard an ominous "crack." What was that? I lifted up the diaper bag to discover my expensive prescription sunglasses....in two distinct pieces.

"I'm sorry mommy! It was an accident!" Jacob said quickly.

"Jacob! You need to be careful. You broke my glasses!" My poor, poor glasses.

"But I said it was an accident!" He replied indignantly. In Jacob's mind, that phrase has the power to turn back time and undue things. Like when you call someone a dirty skank and follow the insult up with "just kidding!" 

By then, it was time for Ryan's shots. No matter how many times I've taken my children to get shots, as a mom, it just never gets easier. The nurse had me hold Ryan's arms while she pinned his legs between the exam table and her body. Jacob huddled protectively near his brother.

 As the shots went in, Ryan's face morphed from gummy smile to shock to horror in the matter of 1/5 of a second. But, thank goodness, it was over quickly. Ryan was such a champ and was back to his happy self not one minute later. We left the doctor's office having increased our wealth by two sparkly band-aids and one Spiderman sticker.

Finally I loaded up the car and we were off! While driving, I kept having to push my broken sunglasses back up my slippery, sweaty nose every 2 minutes, but we made it home with at least half of my dignity still in tact.

Then we snuck in some extra cuddles before dinner.

P.S. If you're wondering why pictures of Jacob are so scarce, it's because I ask him nicely to please get in the picture ....which, apparently is just so unforgiveable that it prompts him to act like a pint-sized jerk. Oh Threes, you sure make Twos look like a breeze.

Weekends Refreshed

The best part about going back to work is that weekends have become 5 times more awesome. When I was home with kids all week, the days all blended together. I was so out of tune with the calendar and no one day had any significance, in and of, itself.

But now...the weekends mean everything. The countdown to Saturday begins as early as Sunday night before I drift to sleep. Every Friday is a reason to celebrate.

The weekends aren't always adventure-packed. In fact, they are sometimes pretty ordinary. And they always bring a list of chores. But, when I have my two little sidekicks in tow, I feel full and whole and happy.

It's been hard having less time with my kids each day. But, the time we do spend together is so much richer. The mentally and physically exhausted stay at home mommy who couldn't even go to the bathroom alone has been replaced by a more appreciative, patient, and focused mommy. When I'm home, I'm holding Ryan every chance I get. I'm laughing at Jacob's usually tiresome toddler games. I'm taking the time to properly answer Jacob's numerous and nagging questions. I'm cooing at Ryan and smiling, even through his fussy times. I'm smiling because, whether he's happy or not, I'm just thrilled to have him in my arms again. And, it may just be my imagination, but the kids also seem much happier on the weekends now than they did before.

Ryan and Jacob were wonderful this weekend. Yesterday they got to play with their cousins at a nearby outdoor water park. The weather was perfect and the kids got along really well. There is NOTING better than watching your children laugh and have a great time.

Today, we tagged along on Daddy's trip to a car show. Daddy looked at cars while we ate ice cream, collected free stuff, soaked up the sun, and enjoyed being together.

While there were many cool cars on display, we seemed to garner more than our fair share of attention. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had with strangers all because of (1) this awesome wagon, and (2) the two cute kids sitting in the wagon.

Jacob loved sharing his wagon with Ryan. He was pretty excited that it could fit the both of them. He wanted to show Ryan everything we saw, including the snail that was making a home in the bottom of the wagon. Ryan watched so nonchallantly as his brother set the slimy snail onto his chubby leg.

Jacob and the lolipop from grandpa

Someone is too cool for school with his backwards hat!



Ryan was so amazing today. When we were at Costco, I picked him up out of his carseat and carried him around in my arms. He looked up at me happily and began to chatter away. He smiled ALL DAY. No joke. Even during his fussy time. As the evening wore on, he got a little cranky. I let him cry for a couple minutes before swooping in to pick him up. When I began to rocked him in my arms, he stopped crying. He looked up at me with big, happy eyes and gave a shy little smile before burying his face back into the crook of my neck and falling to sleep. He ended up going to bed past his bedtime, but he was laughing and smiling up until he konked out in my arms.

He's going to wake up at 3am tonight, just like he does every night. I'm very much looking forward to cradling him by my side as we drift back to sleep together.

Being Patient

I think I have baby fever. It's a very odd thing. My baby is only 4 months old but I just can't wait to have another one. I can see how having babies can be addicting, you know, if it weren't for the getting fat, nausea, end of pregnancy discomforts, going under the knife, and 4 months of recovery before I can even do a freaking sit-up.

If it weren't for finances, I would be ready to have another one. Right now. As I rock my baby to sleep each night, my heart aches for one more. I recognize that that seems silly- why can't I just enjoy what I have, right? I just can't explain it. I dream of laughter-filled evenings. Being attacked by a flock of children early in the morning. A table full of hungry mouths telling me stories about their day all at the same time. I love the noise, the chaos, the feeling of being outnumbered that comes with larger families.

I can't help but be excited about another baby and beging to wonder who will he or she be? It's similar to looking at baby Ryan or even Jacob and wondering who will they be in one year? Two years? Ten years? We are still building our family and there may still be some blank spaces in our family photos. How weird is that? Our kids will mean the entire world to us from here on out and it's weird to think that we do not even know them yet.

While I'm anxious for one more, I'm also nervous. With Jacob, we got pregnant right away. But I went through some grueling infertility before we got pregnant with Ryan. Before it happened to me, I had never even HEARD of secondary infertility. I was totally devasted each month that passed by and I didn't see a posivite pregnancy test. It was a silent pain that ate away at me. It made me resent those around me and it made me think things that I am not proud of.

Unless you go through it, you can't truly understand the pain. It's much different than really wanting a baby but, for some reason or another, deciding to wait. It's different because the worst part of it all is the fact that you have absolutely no control. No choice, no decision. You just hold your breath and cross your fingers. And when you are unsuccessful time after time all you can say is, "Why me. Why again? WHY?" And nothing can take away the pain that comes from yearning, but empty, arms.

I'm not sure what to expect a third time around. Will it be easy or will it be hard? If it will be hard, I'm not ready to face the emotional blows. Things are too good right now. I don't want to throw pain in the mix. I want to enjoy what I have.

And right now that includes, sweet cuddles, wide gummy smiles, excited coos, and sleeping side by side every night from 4am to 7am.

So, maybe I'll just focus on enjoying things the way they are right now. Then, when Ryan is a little older, I can slowly dip into the unknown once again.

Penguin Hatching

It's weird, the stuff that sticks in a child's brain.

One time, I mentioned to Jacob that cheese has protein in it (no idea if that's true or not, but it was a ploy to get him to eat some cheese so he can grow big "like Spiderman!"). Now, when I refuse to give him Doritos for breakfast, Jake tells me he would like some cheese because it has protein. Then he usually asks me if a spider can bite him so he can turn into the superhero.

One time, last year, when he had a fever and didn't eat all day, I put some crackers by his bed for a bedtime snack. Since then, it's amazing the number of times this kid has had a "fever" right before bed time. Pretty sure we're marching into world record territory.

The other day, I told Jacob to get dressed. He marched up to me and said, "Mommy, stop freaking out." I gave him THE LOOK. Then he said, "Freaking out means going crazy." I guess his daddy taught him that one.

His memory is amazing. He frequently shares miniscule details from events that happened over a year ago. Things that I barely remember. I'm worried that he will start remembering the times I stuck him in his baby swing so that I could sit on the couch in my pjs at 3pm, eat candybars, and watch Desperate Housewives. Oh the shame....

He can recall the time he ate a hotdog at the park back in 2010. But, I tell him FIVE times to pick up the 230 pennies in his bed and he conveniently forgets. Sheesh.

Everytime Jake watches a new movie, we notice that unusual phrases begin to pop up in his vocabulary.  For example, "You've got to move it, move it!" is from Madagascar. And then there's my personal favorite "Who gives a rat's butt!" He picked up that lovely phrase from Mr. Popper's Penguins, which he has always pronounced as Pimper Pompers Penguins.

Since watching Pimper Pompers Penguins, he's also picked up the habit of sitting on his baby brother's head. When I ask him what he's doing, he tells me he's a penguin and that's how penguins hatch their babies. "Mommy, I'm just keeping him warm. He's too bald."

Well, I can't really argue with that....

My poor, bald Ryan DOES kind of have an unfortunate resemblence to a baby penguin.

But when he dazzles us with his smiles, we can forgive the baldness. Cue the shameless excuse to share pictures.

-Ahhh-mazing BBQ Chicken

Adapted from Cook's Illustrated- my favorite cooking mag.

Ingredients:

Chicken breasts, cut into large bite size pieces
1 teaspoon course salt
2 slices of bacon
2 Tablespoons paprika
1 Tablespoon + 1 teaspoon of sugar
BBQ sauce (we love Baby Ray's)
Skewers (If you are going to use wooden skewers, soak them in water for at least 30 minutes)

1. Rub course salt over the chicken pieces. Cover the chicken pieces and refrigerate for at least an hour. 

2. Cut the bacon into large pieces. In food processor, process the bacon until it forms a paste.

3. Combine the paprika and sugar in a bowl and add the bacon paste.

4. Take the chicken out of the fridge and rub the paprika/bacon mix into the chicken pieces really well. My bacon paste didn't rub so well but I coated the chicken as best as I could. Then skewer the chicken. I took the pieces of paste that kept falling off the chicken and stuck it between the chicken pieces on the skewer.

5. Heat up your grill. When it's really hot, add the skewers. Cook for 5-7 minutes on one side and brush with BBQ sauce. Flip the skewers over, brush other side with bbq sauce, and cook 5-7 minutes longer.

SO FREAKING GOOD. And I'm not even a huge bacon fan....