Shelley's Case

"No" means "maybe later"

In the past, I have said I would NEVER EVER NEVER do the following:

• Get married. 
  
  • Was married December 30, 1992.

• Have a baby.
  
  • Had a baby June 4, 2007.

• Work in a small office again (damn you, evil comic book ladies!).
  
  • Started full time for the boss June 2008, after doing K work starting in 2006.

• Own a small dog.
  
  • Um....

(Which begs the question, why do I make such broad, sweeping pronouncements?) 

 Anyway.  On Tuesday I popped in to Dogstar, a dog daycare business a couple of blocks from my office.  I'd been in once before, when I was trying to figure out what to do about Norris.  The owner of the business, Theresa, was the first person who said, "You know your dog.  You probably already know what you should do."  And she was right - I did.  It sucked.  I did it anyway, I know it was the right decision, and can (usually) look myself in the eye in the mirror each morning.  It was interesting, though, because at that point I talked to her, I realized I'd met someone who shared the same dog philosophy that Matthew and I share.

Dogstar has dogs available to foster or adopt via the Pixie Project - there are usually a handful around at any given point.  And I don't know what made me decide to pop in on Tuesday to see what dogs were available to adopt, except that Tuesday was...odd... at the office, with some weird interpersonal dynamic things going on, and I kept wanting to get out and walk around the neighborhood.

By the end of the day, I was taking a scruffy little terrier-mix home.  She'd been fostered and taught manners by Theresa, the Dogstar owner.  She's an adult, and she maybe weighs 15 pounds, dripping wet.  My best guess as to her antecedents: wire-hair Jack Russell, dachsund, and maybe some Chinese Crested.  She looks just like my husband's beloved boyhood dog, Skippy.

 

Deep breath.  I now own a small dog.  After many false starts, she has been named "Peanut."  She is sweet.  She's around 2.  She has a yappy bark, but thank God doesn't bark much.  She adores me.  She is sweet with Peach, and genuinely delighted to see her when Peach wakes up from a nap.  (I am more worried about the baby hurting the dog than the other way around.) 

Sweet dog.  Mellow, too, for a terrier mix.  She hangs out at my feet all day (she has been going to work with me - the size was a selling point, as our office is in a loft with a HOA that limits dog sizes).  She has been hugely popular when I've taken her out and about to lunch. 

What's more, she's socialized.  She does bark at other dogs, but I don't have to worry about her attacking them - or children, for that matter.   She sits quietly in the car on the way to and from work, and sometimes filches Peach's snack.  She fits into our lives very well and is perfectly happy to be along for the ride.

So, I'm sure I'll regret this later, but I think she's the easiest dog we've ever had.  It's not the same as our shepherding breeds - there is no confusing this dog for a short, ugly human, the way we might with our border collie - but there is a lot to be said for easy (and portable). 

[Mea culpa, Sarah!  I promise I won't bring him over unannounced, like some siblings. :)]

Art of Mom Monday

Forget the months of interrupted sleep, the tantrums, the screaming fits (not the same thing!), the stacks of dishes in the sink.  Today is Art of Mom Monday, and I am going to think positively about parenting. 

Today's setting: harried morning, doctor's appointment (Peach), leaving work early (me), long commute home on the train, (Matthew), four stores to find Hello Kitty pigtail holders (a big negative for Peach & me, because who knew Peach only wanted "kitty piggies?").   Until about 4 PM, the highlight of my parenting day had been thinking to put a clean shirt on the kid *before* the doctor's appointment. 

But around 4, I amped up the kid with some chocolate milk and set her loose in Nordstrom Rack (one of the places I went looking for the kitty piggies).  We just happened to look - in case they were misfiled - in the size 7 shoe area, where I found a cheap (both meanings) pair of yellow fabric ballet flats that match the color of my current favorite handbag - a kind of baby poop yellow, to be honest.  It looks better than it sounds, really.

 I tried one on - and the kidlet went nuts. 

"NO MOMMY!  NO SHOE!"  She lunged for the shoe and pulled it off my foot. 

"But it's a pretty yellow."

"No yellow, Mommy.  No yellow!"  She dropped the shoe, face full of distain, in a box with some fushia pumps. 

Hrm. (This was a funny development - she had been trying to talk me into clothing the whole time previous, by saying, "Mommy shirt" and "Mommy coat" when she saw something she liked, usually in a brand I normally wear.) 

I picked the shoe back up.  "So...do you want to try it on?" 

And before I thought of pulling out the camera, she bent down, unfastened her Keen sandal, and pulled it off - all in one motion.  (Normally, taking off the sandals involves sitting and much pulling.)  She dropped the shoe and stuck her foot in it.

And still didn't like it. "No me, no yellow."  She inspected the shoe one last time, and put it away. 

I got the photo - and the shoes.  We chased each other around the store, which was hugely fun, and actually led to positive fellow-shopper interactions.  (At the Rack?  I *know*!)   My kid still threw some massive tantrums while we waited for Matthew's train to arrive; she stripped naked in the middle of my gourmet - ahem, Ikea meatballs and sauce - dinner, just as my boss called to ask a question, and announced it with "MOMMY NO DIAPER!"; and she pitched the requisite screaming fit when I put her to bed.  (Which the treadmill drowns out perfectly, I've noticed.)

But the shoes?  They were a golden moment in the day.  Well, baby poop yellow.  It works.

To the three of you still reading this blog

We are all alive.  Peach has some lovely gastrointestinal thing that has turned me off of chocolate frosting forever.  My only free time comes after the screaming fit that is putting her down for a nap.  (Thankfully, the naps have been long.  The nights, however, involve lots of screaming at 1-4 AM.  I am 36, Matthew is 47, and WE ARE TOO OLD FOR THIS.)  Also thankfully, I haven't gotten whatever it is that got Peach - although I have enough of a hard time staying home when I'm sick that staying home when someone else is sick is a bit maddening!

After spending almost a week in Nevada with family, we came home to normalcy - which is to say, work chaos and feeling infinitely behind.  Two forced days "off" were not on my radar, and I have come to the conclusion that it is infinitely more difficult to stay home with a kid than go to work. Seriously. Does it make me a bad mom that I would rather review discovery than do "ring around the rosey" until I'm sick to my stomach? 

It distresses me that this blog is becoming an apology piece, interspersed with pictures.  Sorry I haven't posted, sorry I have nothing interesting to say, sorry I can't talk about work, sorry for all the apologies. 

The apologies out of the way, here are some pictures:

Our trip to Reno was Peach's first airplane trip.  I was a wreck about this, because she hates loud noises - the vacuum, the garage door opener, and the time we watched a helicopter take off?  A NIGHTMARE.  So I'd prepped her with books and even though I am a member of the "pop a xanex before takeoff" club, I managed to feign excitement for her.  And it worked!  She loved it.  We had a hell of a time keeping her in the seat we had to pay for (because she'd turned 2 the previous week), but heck, she had fun and there was very minimal screaming, mostly to do with trying to keep her in her seat.

Most of our pictures of her on the plane are like this one - the back of her head while she watches out the window.

While in Reno, we had the third of Peach's three birthday parties.  Yeah.  I went from not wanting any to having three - one at daycare, a casual one with neighbors (Matthew was the orchestrator of this - he bought a cake all on his own), and one with my family in Reno.  All of them were a lot of fun, but it was so neat to see her interacting with my family.  For example, she'd never met either of my brothers, but had chatted with Phil via Skype.  When she first got out of the car in front of my sister's house, Phil came around the side of the car - and as soon as her feet were on the ground, she ran up to him and hugged him, with no prompting on my part.  Auntie Sarah was incredibly patient and wonderful with her and thought of a million ways to entertain her that never would have occurred to me, Uncle John fed her pizza, and she loved all the attention.  I loved the break.

She had an epic tantrum the day of her party, but hey, what toddler doesn't?  It meants she took a nap and I got to open her presents...which was actually pretty fun for me.  Most unusual gift: toilet seat with a toddler-sized seat that fits up into the lid with a magnetic catch - no idea what the TSA folks thought about it, but it has already made the potty training much more pleasant.  Loudest gifts: from my brothers, naturally.  Everyone was so kind and thoughtful to Peach, which was a delight for me, since my family is so far away.  My brothers had never met her and my father hadn't seen her since she was about a week old.  My sister hadn't seen her in over a year.  It was fun.

The point of the trip, getting my brother John married off, was accomplished with very few snags.  Peach fell asleep in the car about 20 minutes from the Squaw Valley Chapel - naturally.  She made it through the ceremony with only some squirming, but we couldn't stay too long.  For those who might remember my sister's wedding, or the stories therefrom, almost three years ago?  Let's just say that my parents GOT ALONG NICELY.  I have pictures of that, too, in case no one believes me, but would rather not risk a jinx by posting them.  Instead, I leave you with this:

Which is pretty much how I feel after having not gotten a full night's sleep in...um...I can't remember when.  Here's hoping her nap lasts long enough for me to get a few Zs in myself.

Not the U2 demographic yet

Peach and I were listening to music on our way home last week, and U2's "New Years Day" came on.  Peach listened to Bono for about 15 seconds and exclaimed, "Baby crying!"

Catching up with her

In the beginning, it was easy to get cute pictures of Peach - newborns don't dodge.  Now, though?  I am lucky if I get her in the frame.

Take last weekend's playground excursion:

Finally one with her face!

Snippets of conversation

Upset Client: "You just can't understand what it's like to have a rapist call you out of the blue!"
Me:  "Um, actually it happens to me almost every day."
UC: ....
Me: "And murderers.  The murderers are nicer on the phone, though."

Quandry

Half the time I think I am hovering over Peach too much and helping too much.  The rest of the time, I wonder things like, "Is it wrong to let her eat Bath and Bodyworks foaming soap?"

(FYI, I did hover and help her figure out how to swish and spit, and there were no ill effects.)

Today's helpful tip

Law review + child porn charges ≠ happy legal career.  Except for the prosecutor.

Insert stock "poor me" title here

I hate whiny blog posts, but frankly, I can't catch anyone up without a little whine.  Mea maxima culpa.

So this is basically the scene:

• Matthew's back is in BAD shape, even after January's surgery. He is going to PT three times a week and has a lot of numbness in his left hand.  He has to rest quite a bit, although it's getting better.
• I am doing almost all of the direct Peach-care, housekeeping, laundry, driving, shopping, and so on.  
• Peach is having night terrors (although she did manage to sleep through the night last night - in her own bed! - and is asleep in her own bed now).
• I am in the process of negotiating with the boss on a raise. 
• We have some new, big cases and a lot of upcoming hard deadlines on existing cases. 
• My legal assistant has been across the country for a week and a half because of a family emergency. 
• All of this has been giving me tension headaches.  Massive, mind-numbing tension headaches.  And most nights, I fall asleep mid-something - mid-sentence, mid-page of a book, mid-email, mid-blog post (seriously - I ended up finding the draft and I had no clue where it was headed, so it was summarily deleted)....

On the plus side, I am looking forward to a trip to Nevada to attend a wedding and visit family.  We'll have a birthday party for Peach (we'll be there a week after the "real" birthday), and I'm so excited for her to meet her cousin for the first time.  My father hasn't seen her since she was a week old, and it's been a year since my sister and brother in law saw her.  (My brothers have never met her, and neither have the aunt and uncle that'll be at the wedding.)  My mother visited last year, but it's been such a blur that I can't remember when. 

When Peach isn't having a tantrum, she is fabulous.  Her vocabulary is exploding, the words are turning into short sentences, and she jokes!  I love her sense of humor and her sweet voice.  She's just delightful - sassy, intelligent, quirky, funny, and oh-so-curious.   On her real birthday (just two weeks from tomorrow), I'll take some cupcakes to school and have a mini-party.  I've attended two birthday parties for her classmates - at a pizza place, at a park - and that is way more chaos and work than I'm up to dealing with.  Cupcakes I can manage.

And this is kind of (really) dorky, but I am very excited about taking a deposition tomorrow.  I've defended depos and I've gone to a lot of depos that the boss has taken, but this is my first solo. 

Now, before I fall asleep (and I am getting really, really sleepy), I'd better wrap up.  Ciao.

Fingers crossed

For a night when Eden sleeps all night. In her own bed. And doesn't have night terrors every couple of hours.

I miss sleeping.

Prairiedogging

Just sticking my head up long enough to say that most things in my life suck right now, but there are a couple of bright spots, including this one:

The great thing about this picture is that you can't see the place on the left side of her face where she scratched herself during a temper tantrum at daycare.  We've been having a lot of temper tantrums of late, but fortunately she figured out scratching herself wasn't a great way to get attention - no repeats.  Whew. 

No Birdie, no birdie!

Does it make me a bad mother that I found Peach's terror at the Red Robin bird hilarious?  Seriously, she was trying to occupy the same place and time I was, clawing at my neck and screaming while the big red bird waved at her, and I was trying so hard not to laugh the whole time.  I mean, that bird is creepy.  The person who invented giant animal suits was seriously demented.  Employers who force minimum wage employees into those suits?  IIED, right there. And vicarious liability for the corporation. 

She wouldn't drink her milk after that, because there was a picture of the bird on the cup.

A shout out to my beautiful sis, who has a birthday today! We called to sing to her while all of us were in the car, but had to leave a message.  Long after we were done, Peach was in her seat, rocking out and singing, "Happy-happy-happy-oooh-oooh-oooh."  And Sar?  Your package should get there, um, tomorrow.