Weekend Whoas

Well our weekend started on Thursday of last week.  Yes, a nice long weekend and we packed in a lot of fun.  However, it didn't feel long as we traveled over 750 miles.   

 While packing up for our trip on Wednesday evening our town was hit by a thunderstorm.  Kallahan was really interested...  

"What's this mommy?" 

It's called rain baby! 
#thankfulhearts #KSdrought  Follow me on instagram here.

Our first stop on the road-trip was to my hometown of Panhandle.  My nephew, Jakob, was playing baseball.  It was so fun to watch him play.  

He pitched the entire game.  I was so impressed with his natural talent!

The little boys had a blast at the ball field.  Soon after we arrived it started sprinkling so we all ended up spectating from the car before they called the game right at the end due to lightening.  

On Friday, my sister, her two youngest, my mom with my little cowboys and I all headed further down south.  We went to celebrate my cousin, Megan's college graduation and attend another cousin's wedding shower.

Highlights from the trip:

1:: Playing in aunt Peggy's rocks (who would have guessed? - boys and rocks!)

2::  Meeting Harassing Stephen and Heather's cats

3:: Seeing a lot of family that we rarely see - wish we could do this more often

4::  Special memories made between our kids  

5::  Kallahan's screaming in the car

6::  Kallahan "mooing" at most anything out the car window thinking it's a cow.  Yes, little cowboy says "moo" at cows, horses and even pump-jacks.  But this mommy is proud.  He's starting to talk more and more each day.  Progress folks.  

We are so proud of Megan.  I have a special bond with this little chick, she lived in Kansas with Tyler and me when she first started off to junior college.  She'll always be kind of like a daughter or little sister to me.  She is such a smart and talented young woman.

 I made her this framed piece as a special gift.  It sums her up perfectly.  We also made her a money lei and presented it to her after graduation at her party.

Oh her party y'all, it was so nice!  Her mom, grandparents (a.k.a, Meme & Poppa) and aunt went all out.  They had such cute decorations and the food was AMAZING!  It was such a nice time.  I can't wait to see what the future holds for our little May-may.

Three Little Kittens {Letter M}

Painting with mittens!

Hanging mittens to spell her name!

Eating a mini pie!

Mitten matching!

Letter M craft for our letter wall!!

My baby turns 4 in Heaven

Once again, I am blown away and humbled by all of the support for my baby boy.
It means SO much to me.
I'm sorry I've been away for so long.  

I honestly don't even know if I can still write.  

I've sat down so many times in these past few months, but I just couldn't find any words to write.  

At least not any positive ones.  It just feels so wrong not to write about Tripp... and how his day was and the new things he learned or how he is doing.  I would give anything to be writing about those things again... and to be sharing new videos of his little spoiled rotten personality.

This Mother's Day was harder than last year.  To be honest, I feel like I was in such a dense fog last year that I don't even remember it.  Sometimes I impress myself at how strong I am.  But it's dangerous.  It's unhealthy for me to be so strong.  Because now, it's been a year and a half... and I'm flat-out exhausted from being strong.  It's tiring to act like you're okay when you're dying inside.  It's exhausting to smile on the outside when you are crying and screaming and kicking like a baby on the inside.  And the worst thing that I've done is pretend with the people closest to me, that I'm strong and I'm okay.  Because the people closest to me are the people that I should be the most honest with. 

My baby would be 4 years old today.  

I don't even know how to grasp that.
Today, 4 years ago, was the day that made me the happiest woman alive.  That's no lie.  I had waited my entire life for the day I would have a child.  And now, it's so wrong that this day makes me so sad.  I know there's no better place for my baby to be, than with Jesus in heaven... but I want him here, with me.  In my arms, blowing out candles, and opening presents.  

Moms, can you imagine only getting 2 birthdays with your baby and then never being able to see them again? 

 I'm heartbroken.  I'm nauseous.  I'm sad.  I'm empty.  

I'm all of those things and more.

This video was his second birthday.  

In the back of my mind, I thought there would be a chance that I wouldn't get to spend his 3rd birthday with him.

But I didn't want to believe it.  So I refused to believe it.  

We lived for the day... actually, we lived for the minute. 

   

I'm haunted by the fact that my baby suffered so much.  It haunts me every day and it's so hard to cope with.  I know in my heart that I did everything I could... but did he know that?  Did he think I was a good Mommy or did he look at me as someone who would inflict pain by bathing him and bandaging him and suctioning him?  I just think how wrong and unfair it was that I lost my child and had to hold him as he took his last breaths... but also that our time together was interrupted by so much pain and suffering.  This is what I'm struggling to get past now that the shock has worn off and reality is pounding at my door.  As a mom, I did what I had to do to make my child happy and comfortable.  But as a mom, it also weighs SO heavily on me that Tripp had to endure all of the pain that he did.  And the fact that I could do nothing... just wears and tears at my poor (already broken) Mommy heart.

I sometimes try and picture what our life would be like if he were still here with us.  Stephen and I trying to decide what to get him for his birthday... and trying to decide where to have his party and what theme it would be.  But then I remember that he would be 4 years old.  We wouldn't have to decide those things... he'd be able to tell us exactly what he wanted and where he wanted to go.
God, how I long for that.  

It's hard to comprehend that I should have a 4 year old.... here, with me... every day.

That we should be starting pre-school and t-ball practices.  I should be washing little dirty boy-clothes.  I should be hearing the pitter-patter of little feet during the day instead of a dead silence.  I should be teaching him how to ride a bike.  I should be listening to my baby tell silly jokes that don't make sense, I should be waking up in the middle of the night because he's afraid of monsters,  I should be having to wake up at the crack of dawn to fix my baby breakfast instead of opening my eyes every morning, holding back the tears, realizing that it's true... it's not just a bad dream, that my baby really is gone. 

And EB took all of those things away from him, and away from us.
And the reality is... that maybe one day I will get to do some of these things with another child, but I will never get to do them with Tripp.  And as much as people try to tell me that it's okay- that I'll get to be a mom again one day- it's not okay for me.  Maybe one day it won't be the first thing I think about when I wake up, or the last thing I think about when I go to sleep... but it will never stop hurting.  It might hurt less... but that aching, empty feeling of missing my baby... will never go away completely.  

You cannot replace the loss of a child with ANYTHING... ever.  No matter what anyone says.  

Another baby will never replace Tripp.  Ever.  

And even though Stephen was already the most amazing "non-official" step-dad to my baby boy that I could have ever asked for, knowing that Tripp will never get to officially know Stephen as his step-dad, breaks my heart.  How is it fair that I finally meet the perfect man and someone who will one day be an extraordinary dad, and I don't get to share him with my very own child?

You know, I've been thinking hard about what I could say to help people understand.  

How could I possibly put into words what a bereaved mother goes through, just to simply try and help others even just for a minute... try to comprehend the pain.   

I don't think I can... but that doesn't mean I won't try.  

I've suffered a lot in the past few months with seeing other kids and other moms with their kids.  

And I really, really hope that no one gets offended by this, because I'm truly not trying to offend anyone, I'm just simply trying to explain how I feel.

Someone who has never had a baby of their own or who has healthy babies, or has never experienced the loss of a child... will never fully appreciate what a blessing it is to have a child.  I'm sorry, they just won't.  No matter how much they try, no matter how much they say they do... It's just human nature.
Of course they love their children and appreciate them when bad things happen to other people, but you can't fully appreciate someone until they are gone.  

For an example, I will never fully appreciate what it means to be a healthy human being- because I've never been seriously ill, or disabled, or paralyzed, or had a disease or been in a bad accident, etc. 

Or I will never fully appreciate what it means to have my eyesight... because I've never known what it's like not to be able to see. 

 However,  I believe that I fully appreciate what it would be like to have a perfectly healthy child, because not only have I experienced having a child who suffered a cruel and debilitating disease... I've also experienced the loss of my child. 

It's just a fact.  

You don't appreciate something or someone until they are gone.

And I'm not going to lie, it hurts to be around other moms and their children.  

Especially ones who aren't sensitive to your feelings.  Who (figuratively) dangle their children in your face ...or feel the need to talk about their children constantly in our conversations.

  It's just not appropriate.  I'm sorry.

And no matter how much someone thinks I should be over it... like I already said... 

I will never be over it.  

And I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I'm uncomfortable every day.  

Sometimes I just wish that people would be a little bit more aware of their surroundings and the people that they are associating with.  If you are hanging around someone who recently lost a child, you wouldn't gripe or complain about having to do something for your child or talk about how bad they are.  You wouldn't talk about how much you miss your child who's been away for the weekend (when the person who lost their child has missed them every day since they have been gone and will miss them for the rest of their life).   That's like being around someone who is blind and asking them to look at something you see.  It's inappropriate.  That's common sense... or at least to the mother who lost her child or the person who is visually impaired, it seems like common sense.  I know It's hard for people to understand, because the fact that I have lost my son and that I'm sad all the time, is not something that is constantly on other people's minds (like it is on mine).  And like I've said, I know that before I lost Tripp, I was also oblivious to other people's feelings.  But now that the unimaginable has happened to me... it's hard sometimes to think how people can be so oblivious, especially people who have children and KNOW what that type of love it is. 

 Imagining having that love and then losing it.
That's a hard thing to imagine.  And trust me, it's a hard life to live.

My goal lately has been to try to be more open about my feelings.  To try and let other people know when I'm upset or when something they say is inappropriate to say to someone who has lost their child... to be HONEST... but I'm failing miserably.  It's hard.  It seemed so easy to tell other people how I felt when Tripp was still alive.  It was so easy because all I cared about was what was best for him... and if someone didn't like that, well then too bad for them.  But it's not as easy when you're trying to take care of yourself and what's best for you.  At least not for me, it's not.  

So as I celebrate my son today (with an aching pain in my heart and in my arms),  I ask you to celebrate him, too.  By hugging your children extra tight, or telling someone you love them, or just being extra nice to someone today.
Stephen and I, along with my parents and his parents... will plant a 4 year old cypress tree in the back yard today, in honor of my baby's 4th birthday.  And I will watch it grow.
And then we will watch his videos... and laugh and cry.
And I will wish -so desperately- that I was able to watch my baby grow.

I'm so sad that I will never have new videos or pictures.
Even though I took thousands, it will still never be enough.
Oh, how my heart aches to hold him again.

Happy 4th Birthday, my Bubba.
Mommy can't wait until I see you again.

Love,

Yoga Pants And Ape Suits

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To My Mom

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there.  I'm a day late but luckily yesterday I was just too busy spending time with my own mom, my mother-in-law and with the two most precious cowboys that made me a mommy.  

I'm beyond blessed to have such a great mother and mother-in-law.    

I've read a lot of other blogs today where ladies have dedicated a post to their mothers and it made me want to do the same.  Yes, I spent the day with my mom and bought her a gift but I want to tell her how much she means to me.  

My mom has always been there for me.  My mom didn't work outside the home much while I was growing up.  She was always there to pick me up from school, to pack my lunch EVERYDAY - seriously y'all I never ate a single day in the school cafeteria.  It wasn't that she was just there most the time or because she fed me well either.  You see, inside that lunch box there was often a note telling me to have a great day.  When she picked me up from school, she was always there on time and parked in the exact same spot.  Again, a little weird but I was the type of kid that would panic if she wasn't there when I walked out or if I lost sight of her in the grocery store.  She knew this so she made a great effort at comforting me and reassuring me.  

She's our families backbone.  When my dad was unable to work due to serious burn injuries, she was the one that nursed him back to health.  She never left his side.  All the while I'm sure it was breaking her heart to leave my sister and I but she knew we were well cared for by my grandmother - also an amazing woman but that's a whole separate  post.  And then when my dad went back to school to get another degree after his injury, my mom took a night job to help support our family.  She never wanted our family to need or want.  And boy did she accomplish that.  I look back and my childhood was so secure and I never felt unloved or insecure.  I always felt like my mom had all the time in the world to hear about my day, to watch a movie with me or go on a walk.  She kept our house immaculately clean yet I don't recall her ever actually cleaning.  I'm sure she did it while we were in school but that was just that, she always had time for us.  And for all of this and for so many, many other reasons I know hands down I have the best mother in the world.  Yes, that sounds immature but it's true.  She is the best mother for me (crazy, little OCD me) and now the best to all her grandchildren.  
Thank you for all that you've done and for all that you do.

Love you mom!

Love & Hate: Lawyer Edition...Brain Overheating

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

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

I love legal research.

I hate billable hours.

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

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

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

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

Legalese and Spouses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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