Monday, December 3, 2012

Jacob Says

Jacob: "Mommy, when I grow up, I'm going to work with Daddy and Grandpa."
"Don't you want to work with Mommy?"
Jacob: "No. Daddy and Grandpa work on cars. I want to work on cars too."
"Well, what if I work on cars too?"
Jacob: "No mommy. Only boys work on cars. Girls just crash them."
"What?! Well where do girls work?"
Jacob: "They work in work places."

Jacob: "Does Batman speak Spanish?"

Jacob: "Ryan, you need to behave....I'm so dissapointed in you. Ryan, craperate (cooperate) with me! You have ONE more chance!"

"Jacob, I'm only going to light the candle one more time. If you blow it out, that's it."
Jacob: "Ok Mommy."
[...a minute later]
Jacob: "Well Mommy, the candle blew out but it wasn't me! When the furnace came on, the wind from the vent just blew it out!"
I'm in trouble, this kid can lie.

We're in the process of making our Christmas Cards. We try to do something funny each year with a funny family photo. I'm still working out the kinks but I couldn't resist sharing a sneak peak at Ryan trying on his outfit:

Shy Santa
 

Santa got photo-bombed!

Weekend Whoas


“Ma-mama-maaamaI” 
My baby finally uttered those sweets words that I have been dying to hear since he first said “da-da” several months ago.  Why was it so hard baby Kal? 
Now that he finally said it, it seems to be his favorite. :)  
No words.  
It's so frustrating trying to get a picture of the two of these silly cowboys.  But I know someday I'll appreciate these pictures even more than the well posed ones.  Wait, well posed pictures?  I yet to have any, ha!  Maybe when they're graduating high school they will be more cooperative ..yeah right!  But we'll keep 'em.  
We ended up having a nice weekend.  Friday night Tyler and I stayed up until midnight wrapping presents.  I know, Friday nights are really exciting nowadays!  On Saturday Keeler went to the farm with Tyler while Kal and I cleaned the house from top to bottom.  I guess I wore him out because he took a four hour nap.  He NEVER does that!  In the evening we watched part of a Christmas movie.
On Sunday, I taught Keeler's Sunday school class.  Then we enjoyed the Hanging of the Greens Service.  It is one of my favorite Sundays all year.  Keeler was so cute helping put ornaments on the tree and hanging bows on the alters.  He was so eager to help and loved it!  I was so proud of him.  We are so blessed to have great church family.  After church  Tyler grilled out for lunch and then I was able to go for a nice run while the little cowboys napped.  I still can't get over our weather...70 degrees in December!  In the evening we went looking at Christmas lights.  How many more ways can I say it?  I love this time of year!     
   
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Sunday, December 2, 2012

Traditions & Being Kid Drunk

Ryan is crawling now. This is both awesome and extremely not awesome. Pre-mobile Ryan, our Saturday mornings would go like this: baby and kid wake up at 6 am. Feed baby and kid and sit them in the living room to play with toys and watch cartoons while I sneak back into my warm bed for one to two more hours. This has been so awesome. (and now you have proof that I am a horrible, neglectful mom...but hey, at some point, you need sleep at almost any cost).

The past two mornings, however, this hasn't been working out. Saturday morning, I woke up to Ryan screaming. I walked into the living room and found that he had crawled and had gotten stuck under our entertainment stand. Why would he be lured in that direction when he has plenty of awesome toys sprawled out across the living room, I will never know.

Then THIS morning, I woke up to Ryan crying once again. I jumped out of bed and found that he had crawled away from the living room and his box of toys, all the way to the dining room (I say that as if our house isn't tiny and the rooms are more than 7 feet apart). I found Ryan stuck under the chair of my husband's desk. Poor guy! So. I guess no more extra hours of weekend sleep for me!


This weekend made me feel so full. During the week, I get only a precious few hours with the kids. And during those hours, I'm usually exhausted, grumpy, rushed, or starving (or all three). By Fridays, my kid-fix tank is usually running on empty. Thankfully, my weekends are so full of the kids that by Sundays, I'm drunk on them and ready to tackle another week. This weekend was just like that.

On Saturday, we had one long family day. We went to the gym and my husband and Jacob swam in the pool while I watch ran 4 miles and watched HGTV. I picked Ryan up from childwatch and we hung out while the big boys finished swimming. Ryan and I relaxed in front of the fireplace (yes, my gym is THAT awesome!) and snacked on pumpkin spice bread. Ryan LOVED it. I cannot keep food away from that guy. He is so interested in everything and anything edible. I can't eat anything with him in my hands unless I am willing to share. This explains why, later in the day, he also managed to get his new teeth on a Red Robin steak fry and some bubblegum icecream.

Cheerio King

After the gym, we enjoyed some holiday festivities with my sister-in-law, cousin-in-law, and their kids. The festivities were a total let down. But the kids got to ride the escalators twice and that totally made up for the 1.5 hour drive, right? After the escalator rides, they could have cared less about the druming toy soldiers and snow princesses.

Today was just as full. I've been trying to get the kids to church on Sundays. I'll be the first to admit that I am a horrible religious person. I could write a whole post on my faith or my lack thereof. I don't really know what I believe. But I WANT to believe. So, a part of me hopes that going through the motions is a good first step. Plus, I was raised Catholic and I love celebrating Catholic traditions.

I've been adrift spiritually for many years. In college, I studied Islam and Hinduism very seriously. I absolutely loved Hinduism and, surprisingly, found so much of it in common with my Catholic background. But, after exploring other faiths, I know for sure now that I love Catholicism the most. Like all religions, it's not perfect because people are not perfect. But the Catholic church feels like home to me.

Right now, I'm going to church and taking the kids with me because it feels good. It's comfortable. I want my kids to grow up with some religious background and education. I love the traditions and rituals. Our local parish is awesome and has such an amazing community of young families. And I truly WANT to believe. I'm hoping the rest will fall into place if I keep trying.

Today, I somehow managed to get the kids to Mass (only half an hour late). But only after Ryan managed to crawl in some mud. After Mass, I introduced myself to the priest. As I shook his hand and introduced myself as a new parishoner, Jacob yanked on my arm and yelled, "Mommy! I have to POOP! I have to poop NOW!"....Maybe he was trying to get out of talking to Father?

So. Jacob pooped. Then I got to squeeze into his stall and wipe his ass with one hand while holding Ryan in the other, trying to keep Ryan from eating toilet paper, and trying not to breath in the noxious fumes. Then we joined the rest of humanity at the parish hall where we participated in the St. Nicholas festival. Jacob ran around some dangerous looking bleachers with other kids while I held a sleeping Ryan while also attempting to make an Advent wreath out of evergreen branches. At that moment, a mom came up to me and offered to hold Ryan. I hope I didn't sound TOO excited to take her up on that offer. We got to talking and I was so excited to meet another mommy. I don't get to meet or even talk to many other moms because all the mommy groups I know of meet during work hours (lame).

This mom told me that she noticed my kids during church and wanted to tell me how well-behaved they both were. What? Obviously, she didn't see Jacob pretending to be a cat and hiss at the alter server as he walked down the aisle. She must have also missed the major tantrum Jacob threw because I forgot to let him put money in the offering basket. She must not have been paying attention when Jacob told the kid next to us that if he drinks green juice, his pee will turn green. But thanks anyway! And without fail, as this nice mommy was complimenting me on how well-behaved my kids are, Jacob runs up to me starts punching me in the upper thigh and says, "Hey lady, give me juice." Seriously? I don't know where he gets this stuff. Also after dinner today he started calling me "my-lady."

Post-Mass photoshoot:

 
Jacob insisted on wearing TWO ties

The rest of the day was grocery shopping with the kids (which is honestly one of my favorite things to do), hanging out with my little men, cooking dinner (a mix of new recipes and old favorites), bathtime (during which Ryan splashed so excitedly that he covered our entire bathroom and me with water), and bedtime cuddles. Some days, my kids really test me and push me to my limits. Other days, I feel like the most patient person in the world. Today was the latter and it's amazing how having just a little bit more patience can make your day feel so much happier.

Going back to Catholic traditions, this is the first year that I've followed through on one of my favorites, the Advent wreath. I made the wreath myself and decorated it with ribbons and fake berries. I bought the four candlesticks at church today. They are handcarved from Olive wood, a slow-growing tree from the Holy Land. They are so gorgeous. While there are four candles, you only get to light one the first week of Advent. You light two the second week, three the third week, and then you get to light all four of them the week of Christmas. Not only is it pretty, it makes my table smell like pine and Christmas!


As kids, we loved taking turns lighting (and blowing out) the candles before dinner each night. We loved the anticipation of lighting a new candle each week as we got closer to Christmas Day. We also loved spending our meals eating by candlelight. It was awesome to share this tradition with Jacob tonight. He was so excited to eat by candlelight and he nearly jumped out of his chair when I told him that he could blow the candle out. I remember that excitement so well. The holidays are honestly the best time to be a parent. You get to watch your own childhood memories come back to life through your kids.

Like I said, I'm so full tonight. Full of family and drunk on my kids.

Friday, November 30, 2012

On Sounding Manly, Lie Training, And Laughing At Sick Pets

Apparently, my voice is too high for a lawyer's voice. I've been acutely and self-consciously aware of this fact since a partner at a prior firm mentioned this to me over a year ago. He then proceeded to give me tips on how to sound more authoritative. He quipped that an older female client doesn't sound very assured when her lawyer sounds young and high-pitchy.

His point was well made. I took it to heart. Ever since then, I've struggled to sound more authoritative. It's really hard to talk in a deeper voice on purpose and to not sound like a raspy serial killer.

Although I'm trying, I haven't quite mastered the skill. Occassionally, when I'm not thinking about it or when I'm caught off guard, I will resort to my high-pitched "phone" voice. The former partner who originally mentioned this whole thing to me over a year ago is now my current boss. And today, after a phone conferece with another attorney, he mentioned it to me again.

It's frustrating. He's 100% right. I need to sound more like a lawyer. And unfortunately, that means sounding more masculine. The frustrating thing is that it's simply not easy to change your voice and still sound natural. I need more practice or just some better tips/training.

Not only does my boss think I need to sound more authoritative, he thinks I need training on how to "lie." I have to admit that when it comes to lying, I suck. I almost always crack a huge suspicious grin when pressed. I tend to think this is a QUALITY in my character, not a deficit. But my boss decided that my "lie" training should start today. (p.s., my boss is actually a funny and awesome guy, this isn't as bad as it sounds and is mostly just in good fun). When we called up a colleague about meeting for happy hour, my boss challenged me to give the receptionist a pretent name.

"Hello, how may I direct your call."'
"Yes. Can I speak to Sarah please."
"Who may I ask is calling?"
".....Brenda."
"Wait, is this CP?"
"....giggle, giggle. YES!"

Not only did I fail at lying, but the sweet old lady receptionist sounded pretty annoyed by what she called my "prank." I immediately called her back to apologize. I was going to explain about my "lie training." Because THAT sounds completely normal, right? But as soon as I said I was sorry, she told me she had to go and promptly hung up. Now I feel HORRIBLE! I'm pretty sure it's horrific karma to eff with a receptionist. I'm sure that's in a rule book somewhere.

See. Lying is bad. It gets you in trouble. Lawyers do not need help tarnishing the reputation of their profession. I think from now on, I will stick to simply "molding the facts to fit my theory of the case."

After work, we eventually did meet up with our former coworkers for happy hour. We all used to work at the same firm about two years ago. Some of us left. Some of us left and returned. Some of us are still there. I love this group. They are my favorite people ever. If I could build my ideal law firm with all my favorite people to work with, they would be there. We're loud. We're rowdy. We're inappropriate. We're such a diverse group of individual that from the outside, we do not look like we would all be friends. It's amazing how a workplace can bring all different types of people together and give us something in common. I love it.

During happy hour I drank just one beer and that was enough to get me in trouble. By the end of happy hour, I was in an uncontrollable giggling rage. (Talk about trying to sound more authoritative!). Everything seemed funny to me and I couldn't stop laughing. Unfortunately, this is when someone started to talk about their dog having cancer. My beer was still in full force and I giggled through the whole sad story. I am SO going to hell. (On the positive: hell is more likely to have beer).

I arrived home late but with just enough time to cuddle my baby and hang out with my big kid before  bed. I'm so looking forward to spending an entire weekend with them. Even when they are cranky and whinny. Happy hours put everything into a good perspective. I guess that's why they are called "happy" hours.

Christmas Light Parade

 
Last night was our town’s annual Christmas Light Parade.  It’s always a bittersweet week for me.  At work we work our tails off all week to get everything together.  This year I only ended up staying one late night but a few of our employees really put in some hours…but was it worth it?  Heck yes!!  This year our awesome float took first place!  
I am so proud of our parade committee.  One of the committee guys, Adam (aka: Clark Griswold), has to be one of the most Christmas light proficient / perfectionist out there.  Up until the last minute he is ensuring that every light is in place and working properly.  His ideas are amazing and so is his dedication.  We are so lucky to have him!
Granny dropped Keeler off at work with me on Wednesday night while we worked on the float.  We all ate pizza together and then got busy working.  Keeler and Adam’s son rode toys around the shop.  On the way home he mentioned what a fun time he had.  I am so fortunate that I can include him and that he enjoys it…how long will this last? 

Last night the little cowboys and Granny also came and rode on the float with us down the parade procession.  Kallahan got to sit next to Santa! 
 
Keeler rode on the back on a kid’s tractor.  He was behind Brittany as she sang Christmas music.  Have I ever mentioned that Keeler think Brittney is pretty special? ;) He was on cloud nine!  
I walked beside the float and handed out candy.  I love to watch the children on the street light up while watching the lights and Santa.  It's such a magical night.  I feel like I'm living in a Hallmark movie for a few minutes, ha!  Keeler saw several of his friends from school and even spotted his teacher.  He was so excited.  The only downfall was he said it went by too quickly. 
After the parade we went home.  Daddy picked up dinner, Granny stayed to eat and we had a great family night.  I just love the holidays.  This weekend we actually don’t have anything planned.  I am overly excited about that! The Family Channel’s 25 Day of Christmas starts so I foresee a lot of lounging in our pajamas ‘til noon, sipping on hot chocolate and present wrapping in our future.     


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Thursday, November 29, 2012

Flexibility Matters

I wanted to write a post about how things are going with my special work arrangements. Working 2 days a week from "home" (actually, my mom's home while she watches the kids), has been totally amazing.

I was very skeptical at first. In lawschool, every one of my attempts to study at home failed. I simply could not muster up the self discipline to hunker down and focus on school. Same thing with my first attorney job. But so far, whether I'm working on my dining room table or in my old room at my parent's house, I've been super productive. It helps to have scary court-deadlines looming over your head. Or maybe it's the fact that I still feel like I need to prove to my new employers that I can make this working from home thing work.

The days I work from "home," I get an extra hour of sleep. After work, I get an extra hour of play time with the kids. (I even took them to the YMCA yesterday after work!). When I get to my mom's, I lock myself in my old room where I am free from interruption by partners, paralegals, phone calls, etc. There's no one to entice me away from my desk with an invitation to lunch or coffee. I can take five minute breaks to raid my mom's pantry and give the kids a hug.

Mentally, just knowing that I don't have to make the 2.5 hour one way trek into Seattle everyday, has made all the difference in my attitude. I'm not stuck in traffic. I don't have to deal with extremely slow walkers clogging up the sidewalks. I don't have mini-panic attacks about missing my bus or ferry. If I'm half an hour late, no one knows (I just work half an hour later). It's so much easier to manage an unhumane commute when you are only doing it every other day. 

Plus, I get to work in my yoga pants! Or jeans. Or shorts. Or heck, my underwear if I wanted! From a wardrobe perspective, my job is perfect. Half the week I get to play dress-up and wear all my favorite work wardrobe pieces and the other half of the week I get to work in my casual clothes that otherwise get very little use.

And double bonus: I still love my job. Like, to a sickening degree of job-love. It's challenging. It's interesting. I get to write a lot of motions and briefs. I occassionally get to attend hearings and depositions ("occassionally" is the perfect frequency for these types of tasks). I get to help strategize on litigation efforts. I get just the perfect mixture of self-management/autonomy and guidance. Probably the most exciting thing of all... I get my picture on the firm website! Hey, it's the little things right?

So, the take-away? A little flexibility from an employer as far as letting you work from home or work slightly-reduced hourse can make a huge difference. Without the flexibility, the job I absolutely love would be unsustainable and implausible. I still don't know how I got so lucky!

Playing with a deck, half-stacked.

I’m feeling pulled to write again.  It’s cathartic.  Healing.  And, allows me to say what goes through my mind that I’d probably verbalize to a stranger in line at the grocery store, because that’s how I roll, but there’s something even more freeing in documenting it.  

So, let’s talk about it.  Rip the old Band-Aid off.  Get it out in the open. 

B and I have been trying to get pregnant for a year and a half.  Obviously, unsuccessfully.  It’s still just us, and that spirited little guy named Beckham, who we love and adore with all our hearts.  But, MY plan was to add onto our family well before I turned 30.  Which happens in less than a month (gah!).  So, yeah, that’s not happening. 

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In the past year and half, it seems that practically everyone I know – who’s wanted to become pregnant – has.  And, literally, everyone I know who had a baby around the same time I had Beckham has added a second or third child to their families.  Dagger. To. My. Heart.

So…

In January, which seems eons ago at this point, I visited my OBGYN who said the standard, Well, just keep on trying.  You have a kid, so we know the parts are there.  Come back in six months.

I might’ve fibbed a little when May rolled around, we still weren’t pregnant, and I told the lady that picked up the phone that Dr. C told us to book an appointment if we’d made it to that iconic year mark.  It wasn’t a year.  That was the fib.  It was only 11 months.  But I couldn’t wait a month longer. 

Dr. C advised an HSG test, which runs dye through the ol’ fallopian tubes and uterus.  Then, they take an x-ray of your insides.  Hmmmmm, you’re playing with a deck half-stacked.  That’s what he said as I lay there feeling all No freaking way.  I cried.  B was there and gave me hand-squeezes and hugs.  {Playing with a deck half-stacked, for those of you unfamiliar with this medical terminology, means blockages.  No explanation.  Just blocked.}

New plan = Clomid.  I’m thrilled for this stride.  My inner dialogue goes something like this, Now we’re going to get pregnant.  Maybe even twins!  This will be easy!  I’ll get pregnant by July, have a baby in April, and have an extended maternity leave before starting the 2013-2014 school year.  Clomid, clomid, clomid!  I LOVE CLOMID.

Four rounds of Comid later, I was over it.  HOLY HOTFLASHES, I HATE CLOMID. You would’ve thought I was fifty and menopausal the way I flung those sheets off and on throughout the night.   More importantly, we still weren’t pregnant.  

New plan = Fertility specialist with an exciting, expensive plan, known to commonfolk as turkey bastin’ or, when I’m trying to sound smart, Intra-uterine Insemination (IUI).  This meant 5 days of a stronger fertility drug, Femara, followed by a shot of Ovidril.  My new inner dialogue goes something like this, THE ANSWER TO OUR PRAYERS.  This will work!  How can it not?!  We are timing everything, taking drugs, and seeing a FERTILITY SPECIALIST.  This is soooooooo going to work!!!!! 

Except it didn’t. 

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{B and I at our pre-IUI breakfasts.  Not as lucky as I would’ve liked, but dang those pancakes were good!}

The doctor said it usually takes 3-5 times for success.  A friend tried NINE times with no success.  We tried it twice.  And, both times, I morphed into some combination of a lunatic and a peeonastickaholic.  The hormones were maddening and I’d take anywhere from 3-10 tests each round, despite the fact they were all negative.  I’m telling you, I was Miss Crazy Pants. 

So, last month, we decided we were done.  Done with the drugs.  Done with the planning and scheduling.  Done with the doctor’s appointments.  Done with the negative tests.  Done with the two-week-wait.  DUN-ZO. 

It was all very matter-of-fact.  We quit trying to get pregnant. 

I felt a peace about it all.  Glad to part with all the uncertainty that comes with trying to conceive. 

And, God.  There’s Him.  Who reveals His plan in His time.  And, we’re going to travel that path now. 

I’m going to give up control.  Which is difficult for me.  I like to know what’s going to happen to me, to feel that I had a big part in its making.  But, the bottom line, is that I’ve never had a part in that plan.  I think it’s a good thing, though :)

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