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.

Flood Of Chaos

I've scoured online resources. Made several phone calls. Set up meetings (my entire weekend is totally booked). Pulled out my hair. Held back tears. Fought the urge to scream. Resisted the urge to throw in the towel on this whole working mom thing (like I even have a choice...).

This whole childcare thing is so, so hard.

In the past, I've had a team of family member standing by to help me with my kids while I worked. Most recently, my mom has been watching my kids half the week and I've been paying my sister-in-law to watch the kids the other half of the week. Although it is never easy to leave your children with others, having family that I know and trust to be on the front line has been a huge relief and a huge blessing. In fact, I'm 100% positive that my family is the reason I didn't break down and cry every day for the first couple months I left my baby to go back to work.

But now...here I am...feeling overwhelmed, stressed, nervous, guilty as I try to judge complete strangers from their one-paragraph-long craiglist ads. As I interview people over the phone, a part of me is even bitter. These complete strangers get to spend quality time with my sweet children. Not fair. Not, not fair. Why do they get to have all the sweet day-time moments that I have to miss. Why can't someone pay ME to watch my kids.

Today was simply overwhelming. During my 2.5 hour commute, before I even arrived at the office, I stopped to buy overnight pullups for Jacob, I called to make a same-day doctor's appointment for Ryan. I called my husband and my mom to arrange for him to GET to his doctor's appointment. I exchanged emails with my sister-in-law to arrange for last minute childcare for Friday. I have to appear in Court nearly a good 2 hours from my home and I don't even know if I have anyone to watch the kids. STRESS!

Somehow, after I arrived at the office, between preparing letters to expert witnesses, conferences with co-counsel, and finishing touches on a motions, my non-stop work day was interrupted with occasional check-ins to see how Ryan and his fever/ear infection were faring, responding to emails from prospective part-time nannies, and phone calls for a fundraising event I'm helping to plan. At 5:35, I finally snuck out of the office, commenced my 2.5 hour commute home, stopped by my parents' to drop something off, and then finally arived home at 8pm anxious to wrap my arms around my children....only to find out that they were both sleeping. UGH!

When chaos from my home life spills into my work life, I sometimes wonder how the heck anyone lets me be a lawyer. I can't even organize my socks. How the hell can I expect to organize discovery and litigation efforts?

Good thing I have an entire drawer full of price-reduced left-over Easter candy. Cause tonight, I really need it!

Easter Cuteness

Participating in four Easter egg hunts in the past two days has left our family with Easter hangover. Although Easter is over (unless you are Catholic, then this is just the first of fifty days of Easter, as my mom would so carefully point out), remnants of Easter are everywhere: empty half-shells of multi-colored plastic eggs, ribbons of blue grass, the occasional run-away candy wrapper, two sugar-crashing children sleeping deeply in the next room. The weather was so amazingly beautiful today that, although sundown is long over, sunshine still fills my eyes.

Last night, after I painstakingly hid each of the children's plastic eggs with meticulous care and thought, I made sure to charge the video camera. I was very much looking forward to Jacob's excitement as he discovered each one. I was sure that I had hid them well enough that the great hunt would last several minutes. Fast forward to 7:30 a.m. when Jacob bounced into our bedroom and proudly held his Easter basket alof. "Look mommy! Look what the Easter Bunny brought me!" In his hunt for the basket, he had already found all twelve plastic eggs filled with candy and quarters. The turkey finished his big hunt without us. Another moment had slipped by without proper documentation.

Oh well. We still had two more egg hunts to look forward to. And they did not disappoint.

But first was Easter Mass. Easter Mass is my favorite service. It's always so uplifting and joyful. And, if you are lucky enough to sit on the end of a pew, you get pelted with big heavy drops of holy water. You can't help but leave Mass feeling a little lighter than when you entered-- and not just from having an extra hour to digest half a bag full of jelly beans.

Dressed for Mass

The color coordination was totally unintentional!

Then we continued my childhood tradition of visiting my grandma for Easter ham, lamb-shaped cake, and a second (or third) Easter egg hunt. It's crazy that my family has been doing this for over 20 years. And although the egg hunt participants have changed over the years, it's pretty much all the same right down to the crowded, boisterous, fight-for-your-food atmosphere. I have happy memories of roaming my grandparent's large property in search of special baggies or baskets with our names transcribed on them. Watching my own kids do the same is like a trippy, magical time warp.

Ryan's first Easter!

 

 

The loot

 

The babies

 

The babies' loot

 

After Easter at my grandma's house, we drove out to my husband's parents' home. We had a second Easter feast (more ham!) which was much more quiet and laid back (my husband and I grew up in very different environments) and then the kids enjoyed their final egg hunt of the season.

Ryan spent almost the entire day showing off his arm by pitching eggs across the lawn

 

Taking inventory

More egg throwing

 

So much family. So much food. So much sunshine. So much cuteness.

Feels Like Spring

In February I was under the belief that my sister was dating Guy X. Then one random evening in early March, purely out of the blue, I got a text from her: "I'm getting married! To Guy Y!" Wait, who?! I had never even heard of this guy. The next text was even more shoking: "We're getting married in two weeks!"

WAIT. WHAT?!

Imagine my parents' shock when they got similar news--but not from my sister, from Guy Y. He called my dad at work one day and said, "Hi, I'm Guy Y. I'm going to marry your daughter." Like the rest of us, my dad had no clue who this guy was. He might have freaked out just a tad. He called me immediately afterward. It was an interesting conversation.

And, as promised, that is exactly what happened. They got married! In their home. Before some kind of minister. After we had only met Guy Y one time. With only two witnesses in attendance. And my parents found out that it happened nearly a week later. Although I had some insider knowledge, it was pretty much a secret.

And although there is a part of me that balks at all the suddeness of things, there will be absolutely no judging from me. Heck, I eloped. It was a true elopment, even. We weren't even engaged. We just flew out to Chicago, got married, and didn't tell a single soul-- not even my two lawschool roomates who accompanied us for the first part of our trip. (After we eloped, I called up my roommate and said, "Hey, we just did something crazy! It starts with the letter E!" Her reply was, "OMG. Where did you get ecstacy?!" Ha.)

Today, after waking up to the most gorgeous Pacific Northwest weather that we have had in at least seven months, I packed up the kids for a short trip to visit my sister in her new, married home. She lives next to the most amazing trails and parks. The highlight of the trip was this crazy, long slide:

Even the adults enjoyed it:

 

 

We played in the sun, chatted, and did the goofy things that sisters do. BTW- this whole thing about my sister and I getting along, is a very recent phenomenon. We are four years apart and have never really gotten along, much less held a friendship. It's amazing how things change as you get older.

Taking advantage of my sister by sneaking in some rare shots of ME with the kids.

 

He loved the swing....obviously, you can't tell

 

 

The advantage of big brothers

 

 

My handsome 4 year old

When we left my sister's place, there was plenty of daylight and sunshine. We continued to soak up the first spring-like day when we arrived back home. I made some dinner and then it was time for coloring Easter eggs.

Jacob had asked me all day about coloring eggs. "When do we get to color eggs?" "Do we have to cook them first?" "Can I put glitter on them?" "How many eggs do we get to color." He broached the subject at least once an hour, perhaps to make sure that I wouldn't forget. Like I would forget something THAT important!

I'm pretty sure we didn't color eggs last year. I was scheduled for my c-section the day after Easter and it was a prerty chaotic and emotional time. But the year before that I vividly remember our egg-coloring experience. Jacob was 2 and kept transferring the eggs from color to color, much to my horror. He didn't have the patience to let them sit in any one color for long enough. As a result, the eggs all ended up looking the shade of grey-ish purple. Jacob was just as colorful as his artsy eggs. I'm pretty sure we had to throw the clothes he was wearing in the trash.

This year Jacob was very methodical. He wanted to color the eggs the "right" way: one color per egg and he patiently let them sit in the dye for the proper amount of time. He didn't crack or break a single egg and when they were ready, he carefully removed them from the dye and rolled them in glitter. I was a very proud mama.

After we colored eggs, I marched Jacob off to bed and tucked him is. Right as I was about to shut the door, he spoke up, "Mom, make sure you tell Dad that you both have to go to bed early so the Easter Bunny will come!" I assured him we would go to bed promptly and then proceeded to spend the next two hours doing a load of laundry, tidying the house (can't find eggs in a messy house!), filling and hiding plastic eggs and baskets, baking my favorite recipe for apple pie for Easter dessert, and decorating Jacob's bedroom door with streamers (the Easter Bunny just may have overdone it this year).

How is it that I always manage to squeeze in a full day's worth of chores and activity after the kids go to bed? Ugh, I'm so tired!

Mommy Cry-A-Thon

My tummy is in knots. I came home, cuddled my baby in the spare kid bed, and had a mini-mommy-cry-a-thon. I can't really explain my emotions. It's more than likely a multitude of burdens and emotions all mushed together that are beginning to run me down.

So I held my baby. He bobbed his head back and forth as I sang him songs. He nestled into my shoulder beforing popping back up to play with a teddy bear. His chubby little fingers reached for and clasped around the bars of the bunk bed with intense concentration and great interest.

I thought cuddling him would make me feel happy but every little thing he did made me cry harder. Just watching him--my sweet, chubby, happy baby--reminded me in so many ways how he was soon NOT going to be my sweet, chubby, happy baby but a busy and lively toddler.

Most of the time I'm so insanely busy that I rarely have time to digest what is going on. It's rush, rush, rush all day with barely time for a potty break (this is why I don't drink liquid at work- no time to go potty!). I'm so focused on what needs to get done right away that I pocket my reactions for a more convenient time. When I finally stop and take a breather, all those reactions escape at the same time and the result in an overwhelming conglomerate of emotions that turn me into a confused puddle of tears.

The muddled mush of feelings I felt today resulted from the following:

• A text from my sister-in-law telling me my baby was taking his first steps (and I was missing it).
• The sinking realization that my baby is going to be ONE and no longer my little baby. This seriously makes my heart hurt. I don't remember this milestone being so painful with my first baby.
• The fact that I blinked my eyes three times and my baby transformed into a toddler. It's hard not to blame working for the fact that Ryan's babyhood is going by way too quickly.
• The news that my sister-in-law will no longer be watching my kids during the day. OMG. I have to find a complete stranger to take care of my babies?! (My sister-in-law is so awesome with the kids. I'm sure no one can replace her!)

OMG. I have two weeks to find a replacement part time nanny. Don't panic. Don't panic. WAAAAH!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - -  - - - - - -

Unrelated pictures from this weekend:

Being Frank

So I was talking with a friend. And we talked about work. Somehow the topic crept ever so slowly to the red zone--salary. Without blinking, she very candidly blurted out how much she made.

This friend has a BA with half of her credit hours earned at a community college. She did not to go graduate school. During high school, while I was working every Saturday and Sunday to bolster my college applications and get some work experience, she was playing and partying. While I have three years of being a lawyer under my belt, she has maybe a full year of experience holding a full time job. Unlike me, she did not spend nearly a full mortgage on lawschool tuition.

And yet, here we are. Ten years later. Making nearly the same amount. GUH!

I try to avoid comparing myself to other people and I definitely try to avoid talking about money and finances and salary with anyone. But a little piece of me wanted to scream in frustration. The path that led me to the present was a rough path full of hard work, smart choices, sacrifice of time, and sacrifice of money. Where did all that "responsibility" get me? In the same exact place as those people who never really cared.

Before you say it, I will say it for you: money is not the measure of success. Yep I know that. Trust me, I know that. I say it every day a medical bill arrives in the mail. I say it every time my tuition payment is deducted from my bank account. I say it every time I have $100 to stretch for gas and food for the last week of the month. Money isn't everything. There is also balance. And family. And loving what you do. And being challenged and stimulated. And having room to grow.

While I made the decision recently to make keep more balance in my life (less billable hours for less paycheck), life has been far from rosy. Even though I took a 75% position, the honesty is that it takes 100% to do my job. That's the beast of litigation. While I still have flexibility (working from home twice a week is pretty awesome), I do have alot of the stress that I was trying to avoid. AND when I do try to reign in my stress and my time spent working, it somehow just makes me feel guilty. And yet, I would be feeling guilty about not being with the kids if it were the other way around. I guess, if I had to choose, I'd rather feel guilty about missing work than about missing the kids.

I have to say that I love my job. I absolutely love litigation. Everyday it is challenging and new and exciting and scary. But sometimes I feel like I could have coasted through life a little (or a lot) more and have ended up in the same place. That might not be entirely true. It might be entirely false. But it sure feels that way sometimes. Those are usually the times that I scoure craigslist for random job openings and romanticize about being a donut maker or personal trainer or having some mind-numbing desk job that pays the same as my lawyer job. But the grass is always greener, right?

I need to end this post now because the conservative in me is screaming "Shut up! You got exaclty what you paid for. You don't get a bailout for the choices you make. Be happy you have a job and can provide for your family. And, besides, your boss totally buys you beer!"

So, the take-away (aside from the fact that I am a whiny person) is this: I would never discourage anyone from going to law school but law students need to know what to expect. They need to know what they are buying when they fork over $100+K for tuition and books. When you make the big decision to go to lawschool, you may be sacrificing 1/3 of your income for the next 20 (or more) years to pay back your student loas.

Yeah. Big commitment. And you can't divorce your student loans.