Shelley's Case

Art of Mom Thursday

This week has been a clusterf**k.  Monday feels like it was months ago, but the weekend still feels like it's a long way off. 

So, the recap: Peach was sick (cold) over the weekend, but thankfully the rivulets of snot dried up by Saturday evening. We celebrated her half birthday (why not?)  with a cake and candles.  She glowed with joy when she realized it was for her -- "this is MY birthday party," she announced, and ate all the frosting off her cake.  

Parenting-wise, I started reading a couple of books by David Elkind. Even though I know I don't want to subject Peach to academic/activity pressures this early, every time I hear about a kid her age in some sort of lesson, it makes me feel anxious, as though I'm not doing enough for her.  Hence, the books: to remind me that kids do better if they don't get subjected to structured lessons/sports/academics when they're this young, that she's only 2 and a half, and that her job right now is to learn about the world through play. 

(Although all that playing has to be inside - it's been f-ing freezing here.  Seriously, 9 degrees yesterday morning.  This is NW Oregon - come on!  We have magnolia trees here. Who knew 9 felt so much colder than 19?  Not me!)    So all zoo requests come with the answer, "It's too cold, sorry," which actually does stop the debate now.  She says, "Oh, OK."

Art of Mom Sunday Night

Aiee!  Today I moved bookcases, assembled a rocketship, and wrote a petition for review for the Oregon Supreme Court.  I feel like freakin' superwoman (although I still will be working on this brief tomorrow morning, it is mostly done).  Since I don't know what tomorrow will bring, and I still have some energy left, I thought I'd post a bit early.

The rocket looks pretty cool.  I got it ages ago and Peach and I have colored bits and pieces of it here and there.  Today I needed to keep her busy so I could write while Matthew fixed his Linux box (where she watches her movies), so we put it together.  She christened it her house and immediately climbed and closed the door (then peeked out the portholes and laughed and laughed).  

Amazingly, I can fit inside, too!

I have become concerned recently about Peach's stuffed animals.  I used to have a rule that it was one stuffed animal per species (bears excepted).  This lead to some funky animals (we have a seahorse, and a skunk, and a beaver, and an African wild dog, and a weasel). But somewhere along the line, I relaxed my control and this happened:

 

In my defense, while it is a lot of animals, the vast majority of them are quite small- Beanie Baby sized.  And some of them were, ahem, my stuffed animals.  But still - must every trip to Ikea result in a plush animal?!  Why am I so weak?

Not like the others

Every time I'm at some law school alumni function and someone asks me what I do (represent victims of sex abuse/rape/child molestation in civil cases) people pause and say, "Oh, wow.  I am so glad you do that because I couldn't."   Or they make a face, or they do both. This always annoys me, because what they invariably do - family law or criminal defense or environmental regulatory something or other - would make me want to poke my eyes out with sticks. 

Because I'm a civil litigator. I think in terms of motions to dismiss and summary judgments and the discovery avalanche that goes with any civil case.  It's just that my subject matter is a lot more, well, lurid than most other stuff that gets litigated.  And I can't talk about my cases in polite company (which, fortunately, I don't spend much time in) or in front of my toddler (where I do spend a lot of time).  Still, what I talk about at work all day, every day, is pretty nasty stuff.  I just...forget that sometimes.  

Case in point?  I was asked my favorite hat movie while hat shopping.  The first thing that popped into my head was M, because of the great men's hats.  I started to explain the film - directed by Fritz Lang, stars Peter Lorre, fabulous film...about a child murderer/pedophile being pursued by a group of beggars and the cops. I went on and on until I realized what I was talking about and I stopped.  (The other person's favorite hat movie?  The original Thomas Crowne movie.  I felt about three inches tall for imposing my weird world on her, even briefly.)

But it really is a great film.  Heck, come on over, and we can watch it together - I have a special anniversary DVD version.  We'll just have to wait 'til after Peach has gone to bed.

Gratitude

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  It isn't commercial, it isn't hyped, and it's a relatively low-stress meal with friends and family.  I can wear my Mayflower necklace without feeling like a snob.  It's a day off!  Who doesn't love that?

This year - which has been one of the hardest ever - I am grateful for:

• Peach.  She grows in maturity and communication every day, and every day, she is just that much more fun to be around. I especially like that she is out of diapers and that she doesn't fight being dropped off at school.  Those two things alone have given me back an hour of every day!
• Matthew. Amazing to think that it's been 18 1/2 years since I met my best friend - and almost 17 years since we were married.  It makes me feel old to write that...but in a good way.  He is the most stand-up and honorable person I've ever met, and I'm lucky to have him in my life.
• My community of friends, in real life and online.  I love you guys!  Thank you for writing comments, sending supportive messages, taking me out to lunch, and generally making sure I stayed human during the last year.  
• Hats.  I love hats! And, um, red cashmere-lined kid gloves, size 6 1/2.  They're the only part of me that's currently a size 6, and they're fun.  And warm.  And they go with black or brown.  
• And, as always, that John Howland caught that topsail halyard during the storm, so that I could be here in the first place.

Art of Mom Mond- er, Tuesday

I don't feel very art-of-momish this week. 

Yesterday - Peach's first day in the young preschool class - I had the worst drop off ever (although apparently she had a great day), a crazy hectic day, followed by leaving early to take her to the doctor, arriving at the doctor at 5:48 (traffic was nuts), and then a surprisingly pleasant doctor's visit.  After about 18 months of fighting the doctor, I asked her on the way out of school, "hey, do you want to go to the doctor?" and she said, "I want to go to doctor."  And it was awesome.  She didn't fight having her weight taken (31.7 pounds - finally over the 30 pound mark!) She didn't fight having the doctor look at the spot on her skin that I was worried about.  She hopped down after her exam and started playing.  She didn't fuss about the seasonal flu nasal mist experience.  It was fabulous.  I thought, "Wow.  She's really growing up."

Bonus: we were both in bed, and asleep, by about 8:30. 

This morning, I was reminded again that yes, I have a toddler.  Waking up: crying and fussing.  Putting on potty: lots of whining.  Putting on clothes: two parent operation.  Brushing of teeth: ditto.  Drive in: much demanding of going to the zoo instead of school.  Drop off: Second worst ever. 

And what is up with this new "I want to go to store" demand that crops up every time she has to do something she doesn't like?  I don't get it. Matthew calls her his little capitalist.

Sigh. 

But we had a great weekend: we met her BFF JM (and JM's mom) at the zoo, and they were so cute, holding hands and hugging and giggling.  Little girls are so cute!  And I love that as dominant as Peach is, personality wise, she is perfectly content to follow JM's lead.  We ate at Peach's favorite place - Noodles & Co. - for macaroni and cheese and meatballs - and much fun was had. I finally found a coat (at Target!) that she will wear instead of refusing my choices with a dismissive, "I just be cold." 

Ah, well.  Hopefully the weekend will come soon.  Work is topsy turvy (down a legal assistant) and I will probably end up having to do a work road trip on Saturday, but I'll look forward to the zoo on Sunday.  

Water on the moon - what's next, blue skies on Mars?

LOS ANGELES – Suddenly, the moon looks exciting again. It has lots of water, scientists said Friday — a thrilling discovery that sent a ripple of hope for a future astronaut outpost in a place that has always seemed barren and inhospitable.

via news.yahoo.com

Oh, now this is super cool stuff.

Art of Mom Monday

Crazy, crazy day.*  Twenty minutes from daycare/Matthew's work, Peach announces, "I have to go potty."  She's been so perfect on the commutes that I gave up putting a diaper on her for the trips to/from work (even with commute traffic!) a while back.  So we diverted to my office (closer: I drop them off and then backtrack) and she went there - disaster averted.  Whew. 

A few weeks back, I just gave up on putting Peach to bed in her room in her big girl bed.  I'd had an easy to put down baby for a long time, then when night terrors started, it got a lot more complicated.  Finally, bedtime become another toddler battleground.  After Matthew's surgery, I didn't have the energy.  She'd been waking up at 3 AM and ending up in our bed, anyway, so I figured, let's skip the battle and the nightly drama and just let her go to bed with us.  (If Supernanny has a problem with it, she can kiss my hardcore commuting, working mother ass.)

And it worked.  Suddenly there was no nighttime drama (other than choosing books and the occasional, hilarious talking in her sleep - last night it was "My bunny!").   As a side bonus, Peach is potty trained, better rested, and a lot easier to be around.  The only downside (other than the occasional kick to Mama's kidneys) was that now I was competing for covers with two people instead of one.  Yesterday we solved that issue by purchasing a king sized comforter/duvet for our queen sized bed, and it was awesome - almost like our bed had grown. Loved it.  

So you can imagine, then, my surprise when tonight she announced she wanted to go to bed in her big girl bed.  And climbed into it, demanded a few stuffed animals, her soymilk - and then promptly went to sleep....!  I knew sleeping with mom and dad was going to be self limiting and just tonight told my mother on the phone that as independent as Peach is, I didn't expect it to last long. But seriously?  45 minutes after I said it? 

Well.  I'm not taking back the king sized comforter.  I love that thing.

*I wish I could talk about work on my blog.  My work is nuts: I represent victims of sex abuse, and occasionally it gets so crazy it's surreal.  So do some of the clients.  But alas, I can't talk about it. 

Peach in a tutu

Peach picked her outfit this morning (well, she does every morning - or at least nitpicks what I choose), and was adamant about the tutu - but then decided at the last minute not to wear it to school (we did a quick car change).  Still, I enjoyed it while it lasted!

How can someone so young sing words so sad?

Since Peach's Duran Duran obsession started, I've been wildly (ha) working on trying to get her tastes diversified. (Oh, hell, that's not true.  Remember my labor and delivery playlist?  I've been thinking about this for a while - I even bought all the posters for the season of the opera I attended when I was pregnant.)  I created a driving playlist with a bunch of music that I thought she would like, and have been keeping tabs on whether she listens quietly, dances, demands "DIFFERENT SONG!" or "NO SONGS!"

This evening's tally was pretty typical. She prefers male voices to female, and regular rhythms to fancier beats.  She likes a good base line and synthesizers.  (She really dug Wagner when she was still a fetus, for that matter.)

The verdicts:

"Let Me Go" by Cake. No.

"Leaving Las Vegas" by Sheryl Crow: Yes. Which is funny, because I don't even like this song much.

"Wednesday" by Tori Amos: Yes, for about 2 minutes.

"She's in Parties" by Bauhaus: Yes, for about 3 minutes.

"Lord Protect My Child" by Susan Tedeschi: Surprisingly yes.

"Work Hard" by Depeche Mode: Yes.

"Private Idaho" by B-52s: Yes, but only for the Yoko Ono-like sounds.

"Graceland" by Paul Simon: (this will break her father's heart) No.

"General Joy" by Tori Amos: No.

"Long Way Around" by Dixie Chicks: No.

"Cinderella Undercover" by Boingo: No.

"Fire Woman" by the Cult: She loves this song.

"Crucify" by Tori Amos: No.

"Sheila Take a Bow" by the Smiths: Yes.

"Rusholme Ruffians" by the Smiths: No. 

"Hello Again" by The Cars: No.

"Sweet the Sting" by Tori Amos: Emphatic no.

"Nice Work if You Can Get It" by Sting: Yes.

"Sea of Heartbreak" by Roseanne Cash: No. 

"You Might Think" by The Cars: Yes.

"Never There" by Cake: 30 seconds, then "different song, please."

"Cornflake Girl" by Tori Amos: very emphatic no.

"Channel Z" by B-52s: No.

"Missionary Man" by Eurythmics: No.

(I don't know how Shuffle managed to pick all the Tori Amos on the playlist, but somehow, it did. It definitely skewed 80s.)

Snotty Store Alert: French Quarter Linens

I work in the Pearl District and as a result, I get to enjoy shopping at a lot of swanky boutiques.  Granted, I  buy stuff on sale/clearance, but I like nice things and it's fun.  I like good service, and I like being treated like a regular at the stores I frequent.  Case in point: Bonnet, my favorite store.  Love this place and have probably tried on every hat in the shop.  They constantly have new and wonderful things in, and best yet, they are so patient and helpful!  (And honest if something doesn't look good on me. That's priceless.)

A bad example and my new least favorite place in the world: French Quarter Linens.  I love their linens and fantasize about the day I could drop $1200 on a duvet.  (Not sarcasm: the fabric is incredible.)  They're a block or so away from my office, and Monday after lunch, I ambled in to look around and touch the duvets. I thought, heck, maybe I can afford a pillowcase or hankie or something.   

Two sales people in the back, a man and a woman, talking amongst themselves.  I am the only potential customer in the store.  I'm dressed to go to court.

But...I am completely ignored.  After a few minutes, I thought this was odd, and I walked towards the back.  I walked directly in front of them.  Twice.  They continued their conversation and didn't bother to acknowledge my presence at all.  

Maybe they sensed my student loan debt load when I walked in.  Maybe they're having a bumper year and don't need to woo new business.  Anyway, I was absolutely shocked.  When I hit the big time, I guess I'll have to find my expensive linens elsewhere.  Jerks. 

Randomness

• Peach sings in the shower. I really dig this.
• She also does "eskimo kisses."
• Opposing counsel should really, really always send RFPs in doc form to opposing counsel.  It's the kind thing to do.
• [Story redacted at Matthew's request. It was the best one of the whole list, too.]
• I am doing NaNoWriMo this month, not because I think I can actually crank out 50,000 words in a month with a toddler, but because my goal is to write at least some words every day -- thereby actually carving out time for myself in each day.  So far, so good.  I have less than 2,000 words, but I feel saner already.  Most of those were written Sunday morning before Peach woke up - at 7 AM.
• I am too tired to write tonight, so I'm playing Lexulous against the computer.  Lately, I've been going to bed between 8-9 and waking up around 5.  This leaves me about an hour where I'm not driving, minding the Peach, doing laundry, working, or parallel parking.  (I parallel park a lot.)  
• Hm. I don't think I've been asked back to participate in the work-life balance panel this year.

Art of Mom Monday

I'm not feeling like a mothering maven today - a screaming toddler during morning daycare drop off does it to me, every time - but even a weekend of sick Mactyres had some up moments.

• My favorite, around 2:30 am this morning: Peach wakes up from a bad dream yelling, "No, it's my boot!  My boot!"  Seriously, cracked me up. I really wonder what that was all about. 
  
• Yesterday, Peach and I took the MAX from Lloyd Center back to Sunset Transit Center for no good reason other than she loves trains.  Loves them.  At every stop, she looked at me frantically and signed (and said) "More train! More train!"  In the tunnel, she said solemnly, "Darkness." It was rough when we finally had to disembark, but Daddy was waiting for us on the platform (he drove ahead and beat us there), so that was a bonus. 
  
• Potty training seems to have taken.  I put her in a diaper at night, because she's about 50% on staying dry all night, and those aren't great odds.  Mothering perk: having a toddler means I can go to the bathroom as much as I want to in public, without worrying what anyone else thinks.