Shelley's Case

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.

Can I bottle this?

Today I am calm and peaceful and being pragmatic and not at all panicky.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact I got a few hours of sleep without Eden in the bed (until nightmares or teeth woke her up at 3), or maybe it has something to do with the fact I got a few hours of sleep with Matthew in the bed (!) instead of the hospital bed in the loft.  Either way, it's nice.  I don't run around feeling calm very often, so I'll take it. 

I just hope it doesn't mean I'm getting sick. 

I'm back.

Back from hiatus.  I wasn't sure if I would do this again, but damn it, I miss blogging.  I miss having an outlet for the crazy stuff in my life (and there is a lot of crazy stuff).  For a while, it was one long pity party, but the party's over, and it's time to move on. 

 Matthew had an accident at work, major back surgery, almost a week in the hospital, and is now home with us again.  It's an adjustment, having a hospital bed in the house, seeing Matthew go through this slow recovery, and all that entails. Working that into our routine has been tricky, especially since Peach and I had worked out a routine by ourselves.  Still. 

Someone (a parent!) asked me how I "could possibly" cope with what was going on, and I was like, "Um.  I have a kid.  I don't really have a choice about whether I make it or not - I just have to make it."  And so far, I've made it. Maybe hanging on by my fingernails some days, but I've made it. 

As for me, for work, for life - I'm making it.  I have almost no "me" time, but part of why I'm resurrecting the blog is to reclaim some of that.  I want to start taking cello lessons again.  I want to start running again. I want to do NaNoWriMo again.  I want to have something to talk about besides the fact my kid can stack 20 blocks and can put her shoes on and frequently stays dry all night, but she told her first fib last weekend.  You know? 

So, for what it's worth: I'm back.  I'm blogging (and hopefully not bitching too much).

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.

Cheese and whine

Yeah, so this was a whiny post about being sick and accomplishing pretty much nothing all weekend, until I realized that, despite being sick, accomplishing pretty much nothing all weekend was nice and relaxing, and I probably needed the extra 20 hours of sleep.  So much for the "poor, pitiful me" shtick. 

Highlight: watching a death by Malinois scene in an Inspector Lewis episode.  Priceless (esp. since I checked Series I out from the library).

Lowpoint: Peach refusing to sleep until, roughly, 10:30 PM, while Matthew was working and I kept repeatedly falling asleep trying to watch her. 

Karma FAIL

So, I agreed to handle a sentencing/diversion deal for my boss today.  This, for you criminal lawyer types, is no.big.deal.  It's a yawn.  For me, I asked several people about everything I needed to do, because in this county, criminal law is some bizarre, byzantine process that turns ordinary, boring things like sentencing or pre-trial conferences into strange rituals involving precise places to stand, people to talk to, and so on.  Jesus.  I'd rather do a half-dozen civil motion hearings than one of these.  At least I know when I'm right on the law, and the procedure involves just getting up and talking. 

But, back to the justice center.  I got all the paperwork filled out (this is lawyering?!) and went over all of it with the client (OK, that's lawyering) and we went in.  I gave the papers to the right person.  We waited until we were called - FIRST of this type, which was fabulous, because I'd never seen one like this before, and everyone who'd given me advice said, "Don't worry about it.  Just watch everyone else."

The judge went through the usual sentencing steps, but was a little hard on me.  Which was in the "fine, whatever, he's one of those" category until I started to get faint.  REALLY faint.

[I have a history of passing out.  The last time was in July 2005, at a Costco eating area.  I have also passed out in an elementary school bathroom, a church pew at the end of a service, my hairdresser's, and a couple of other times at home.  The feeling is this: I start to have ringing in my ears, so loudly that I can't hear anything speaking.  I get tunnel vision.  I start sweating.  I get unstable on my feet.  I don't know for sure if it's going to be a faint or a vomit -the feeling is identical.] 

I grabbed one of the prosecutor's chairs and sat down. I made it out of there, embarrassed, but only a little because 1) I don't practice criminal law and will probably not see these particular guys again soon and 2) it makes for a good story, and I am all about blog material. 

But, it sucked.  Thank you, dear legal assistant, for the square of dark chocolate you handed me on the way out of the door - it gave me enough blood sugar to get my guy signed up for the things he needed to sign up for, and got me out of there and back to the office. 

And...I am sick, and starting to feel much worse for wear.  I don't think I have a fever, but I am exhausted and weak.  No sore throat.  The doctor won't even bother to see me until Monday, and said to go to urgent care if it gets worse over the weekend.  (Gee, thanks.)

I am skipping a CLE this afternoon and a wedding I really wanted to attend tomorrow.  I am praying this is just some normal crud and not "THE flu."   (If I get sick it bites, but I am terrified about Eden getting "THE flu.") My legal assistant is getting me some lunch and a thermometer so I can check my temperature, per Matthew's orders. 

Fingers crossed.      

Back at it

Yesterday I stayed home sick.  I was achy, exhausted, and had hot and cold flashes.  I thought I'd take it easy and then come back full force today.

It sorta, kinda worked.  I am back at work today, although not at full force.  I tried to take it easy yesterday, but I just don't know what to do with myself when I am at home alone.  No baby to watch?  No husband recovering from neck surgery to help out ?  I don't watch TV, and there was only so much of my book that I could deal with at one time, so I tried to sleep and tried not to be completely bored.  As it turns out, I am rotten at being home sick.

Today I decided I would rather be sick at work than sick at home.  So, here I am.  And I really could use that nap I wasn't able to take yesterday, darn it.

Hold on to your hats!

You know it's an exciting day when you come home and are happy about:

1. Finding mentholatum and the good lip balm in the bathroom drawer.
2. You can probably skip giving the toddler a bath today.
3. Maybe you have enough energy tonight to make it to 9 PM.

(Also happy about the almost-everything at cheeky b being 30% off, including faith hats.  I have a new green one.  It is so true that once you have one, you will want more!)

Sometimes it just works out that way

Today I expected to lose a hearing (but preserve the record for appeal) and then euthanize my dog. 

Instead, I won the hearing (in front of a bunch of attorneys very much my senior, and vs. a name partner in an insurance defense firm).  There was a point at which I realized the judge was leaning my direction and I was thinking, WTF?  This might actually go my way?!  It was an awesome feeling, walking out of that courtroom.

And Norris is still with us.  He nipped Peach last night, and that, frankly, was that.  I called the vet on the way to the office, fully expecting to drive home after the hearing, take him to the vet, and then go back to work.  (Yeah, I really did think that.)  But even vaccinated dogs have to be "quarantined" (which doesn't mean put into some Hansen's disease colony, just not euthanized) for 10 days after any bite, because, I guess, maybe a radioactive rabid spider slipped into the house and bit him or something. 

So after the hearing, I tried to call Matthew, but no response.  Somehow the tension and the stress of the day and the previous night morphed into an "oh my god, what if something awful happened to Matthew?" even though I knew that more likely, he was just napping off the effects of medication.  But all of that nervous energy had to go somewhere, and that's where it landed.   I drove from Oregon City to way out in Beaverton, checked on Matthew (woke him up) then drove back into Portland and did some work.  Somewhere during the afternoon, I realized just what a clusterf&ck the whole dog situation was (sure, I sound cold about Norris, but the fact is that I love this dog SO MUCH that I will lose part of my soul when he dies), and I had a minor breakdown.  And then I talked on the phone with a bunch of people and edited a pleading.

Small meltdown again on the way to pick up Peach, when I was able to chat vent blatther on to my sister.

Peach, by the way, is fine. She was moody and crying this morning and afternoon. She has a bruise and a minor abrasion, but has no fear of the dog and still wants to spend time with him.  The pediatrician did not seem to think this was the panic-inducing event that I did, which is nice.  (It's good to have someone around who stays calm.)  Apparently dog bites happen all the time.  Who knew?  She was her usual trooper, smiley self while we waited and waited and waited at the pharmacy for my script and her antibiotics (which hadn't been faxed over and so the pharmacist had to call the on-call doc, and so on).  We did donuts in the shopping cart and I let her drink some of a Sprite Zero and she let out an earth-rocking belch. I was proud.

The periphery of the day -- the commute, the errands, that sort of thing -- that's what did me in.  Can't remember if I mentioned the sinus infection, the exhaustion, the fact I am still the only functional member of the household after almost three weeks since Matthew's surgery, but that's where we are.  My hat is off to single parents, because the only thing getting me through the day is the realization that at some point, Matthew will feel better and can help again.  But that had better be soon.

And I would really like to know if someone out there would be willing to adopt a fiesty, 11-year-old, three-legged Belgian Malinois.  

We really know how to enjoy a weekend around here

Peach: snotty, goopy eye, and teething.   Desperately in need of a nap, but screaming from the crib.  Good times.

Me: headache, congested, and trying to convince myself that I am not getting sick because I don't have time.

Matthew: took care of Peach early in the AM and back in bed. Not in denial about the sick thing.

PITA Afternoon

So, let's say there's this place in the Pearl that I eat lunch at frequently - say once or twice a week.  Say, also, that there is a high nut percentage on the menu, so that I always play it safe and order the same thing - Caesar salad with cajun chicken. (Because I am deathly allergic to nuts, emphasis on the "deathly.")

So I grab today's NYTimes and head over to this place.  I order the usual and sit down with the paper.  The salad (eventually) comes, and I start to eat. 

About ten bites in, something is wrong.  Maybe it's my imagination, I think hopefully.  A few more bites, and I realize what's happening - my mouth is itching.  Badly.  Remember that nut allergy?

Number one, I am PISSED.  I am extremely careful about avoiding nuts, and always find the safest things on the menu.  I'd eaten this dish at this place dozens of times.   If I was exposed a nut, it was because someone was careless.

I'm also pissed because this is the start of hours of fun - it always is.  I immediately put benedryl dissolving strips on my tongue, which, by the way, is vile.  I leave the rest of my salad (and benedryl wrappers) on the table and start to walk back to the office, because I will be damned if I call 911 at the cafe.  I definitely do NOT want to jab myself in the leg with epinephrine in public in the oh-so-trendy Pearl District.

At the office, I explain what's going on, and my coworker suggests the urgent care place five blocks over, and my coworker walks with me the distance.  (I put two more benedryl strips on my tongue to tide me over.)  At the urgent care place, I'm told it's not really an urgent care place.  Sure, they're open long hours 7 days a week, and their website and signage make it seem like they're urgent care, but it's really just a regular doctor's office...except that they take people all the time.  Whatever.  I am annoyed, but get to gawk at the Wieden + Kennedy trendsters coming back from lunch, so it's not a total loss. 

On the way back to the office, I am debating blowing off the entire thing and sucking it up, but Matthew and my coworker convince me not to; in the past, I've done this after taking a lot of benedryl, and it just delays the ultimate massive reaction and I still in end up in the urgent care/ER.  So Matthew makes an appointment for me at the not-so-urgent urgent care place for about twenty minutes in the future; it's confirmed when I'm back in the office.  Clients call.  A client comes in. I'm late, but not feeling guilty since I now have had to walk there twice.  I walk all the way back over to the not-urgent-care place, go into my appointment, and since I'm not in acute distress (the benedryl dosing), the doctor will just give me a script for prednisone and send me on my way (to avoid a later, delayed reaction, basically, my immune system will be out of commission for a couple of days).

The rest of the afternoon?  Passes in a blur, because I'm so groggy.  Hopefully I didn't sound TOO intoxicated - I'm counting my lucky stars that I wasn't due in court.  I am proud to say that I did manage to get a bunch of work done and I didn't resort to napping on the boss's couch. 

Hours later (6:30 hours later!) I am groggy.  And cranky.  And really, really ready for the end of the day. 

Cheese with my Whine

Peach - definitely sick.  Running 101.5 temp (and it's the kind where I am SOOOO glad there is an RN in the family to take that one). Whiny, clingy, wants Mama.  It's nice to be wanted, but it was super sad to see Matthew hurt that she didn't want to go to him (in fact, screamed and twisted to get back to me). 
Thankfully, she's sleeping now.

Me?  Feeling like I'm getting sick - incredibly exhausted and run-down feeling.  And have way, way too much to do, but I am going to be good and crawl back into bed.  The last thing I need is to push myself too hard.  I'm trying to work extra hours to make up for the unexpected trip to Finland, but after sitting down to write a memo, apparently it won't be today. 

I think it's because Peach has been spending time in the "Wobblers" room at daycare - a whole new batch of kids with viruses.  I just hope this round of illness doesn't last as long as the last one did. 

Barely keeping my eyes open - and at quarter of 10 in the morning on a Sunday.  Man, that is SAD.

Oh, the cheese bit?  Yesterday I had an incredible bite-you-back-sharp cheddar that's made in Seattle.  It was awesome!

How not to interview for your dream job

1. Have very flushed complexion, because the stupid steroids give you hot flashes;
2. Cough up half a lung during the interview, because the residual bronchitis just will NOT give you a rest;
3. Have to ask for water during interview, because just can't stop coughing;
4. Get almost no sleep the night before; and
5. Forget 75% of the brilliant and insightful things you wanted to say.

Other than looking like Richard Nixon in the Nixon/Kennedy debate, I thought it went rather well.  It's very odd - I haven't interviewed for a job in 9 -- count 'em, 9 -- years.  However, after law school, trial court appearances, and oral arguments in the Oregon Court of Appeals -- and you know, growing up -- it wasn't nearly the terrifying experience I'd remembered. 

I do apologize for blog silence, but seriously, did you want to hear about the third antibiotic they're trying on me? 

In other, more interesting news, Peach hugged me.  I was on the phone, sitting on the floor in her room, and thought she was just trying to climb up me.  I absently supported her while she put one arm around my shoulder and the other arm around my neck -- and rested her head on my chest.  A few minutes later, I realized that no, she wasn't sleeping, she wasn't climbing, and she wasn't on her way somewhere else - she was just enjoying leaning against me and holding on.  It was awesome. 

No senate subcommittee necessary

After feeling almost normal yesterday (no naps, much accomplished), this morning I was back to feeling as though my left ear had filled with water.  So, back to the doctor I went (third time in a week), and emerged this time with a prescription for a steroid to reduce inflammation in my ear.

We'll see.  So far I'm just fidgety and irritated, but if I pitch a no-hitter or lie to Congress, I'll let you know.

It's a small thing, but when the young physician came in the room, shook my hand then immediately picked up my book with interest and asked "what's this about?", I was very gratified when I managed to pop out with, "A social history of England in the decades prior to Victoria.  Scenes of Hogarthian debauchery, that sort of thing."   The impressive bit isn't the words, but that I spit the words out just after his opening the door woke me up from a ten minute doze.  Normally I'm confused on my name after waking up.

I didn't mention that it annoyed me that the book's author looks much younger than I do (and is), and, for that matter, so did the physician.  I only call the young ones "Doogie" in the privacy of my  home.   (Slate's reviewer commented that the dust jacket photo makes Wilson look 14.  This actually kept me from reading the book for several months after I purchased it, but I'm glad I got over it.  It's really very, very good.)

Speaking of old British things, I did manage to get to the salon yesterday - and had my hair cut in the style of Victoria Beckham.

Uncle

So this morning I woke up feeling crappy.  Fearing I had the flu, I went to urgent care.  (And had, for once, great timing - only one person ahead of me.)  After an interminable wait in the exam room, the doctor came in, looked at my ears, and said, "You have a raging ear infection."  I blurted, "But I'm on amoxicillin!" (Remember the strep throat?)

Apparently I have an amoxicillin resistant infection raging in my ears.  More antibiotics later, and I am home.  I'm back to having extreme pain every time I swallow, but now it's in my ears instead of my throat. 

I give up.  Somebody wake me up when cold/flu season is over. 

Look at the noggin on that kid!

This was a long, whiny post about how I now have strep throat and feel really awful, but I deleted it.  Wah, poor pitiful me.  OK?  Done.

More interesting was the Peach's 9-month pediatrician visit: 19 pounds, 7 ounces, 26.6 inches, and I can't remember (and don't want to go downstairs to get) the measurement for her head, but her head is in the 95 percentile, while her body weight and height are 50th and proportional.  I've been telling everyone that she has a huge noggin, but yikes, it's a huge noggin.  And she is already bigger than I was at 12 months, according to my baby book. 

She also has a small ear infection, and is on amoxocillin.  I wasn't expecting her to get any, since neither Matthew nor I did as kids (I had my first ear infection in law school, during my very last set of finals -- good thing I didn't really care about grades at that point).  But now I'm wondering if it's a blessing in disguise - with her and Matthew on antibiotics now, I don't have to worry about them getting it.  I do know I'm looking forward to the river of greenish snot coming to an end. 

Giving amoxocillin liquid to ferrets was much easier than it is to give to a baby.  Unfortunately, babies don't have a scruff to hold onto.  On the positive side, she doesn't shake her head and get pink gunk all over my clothes, either. 

What I want for my birthday

I'd like to be just sick enough to justify staying in bed and having my every whim catered to, but not sick enough that I actually feel bad.  Is that so much to ask? 

Today's Helpful Tip

If you're pushing 35* and working on getting back into shape to run, maybe the 60 minute kickboxing workout isn't the best place to start, what with those poor old joints and all. 

(All I can say is that as much as it's aching tonight, tomorrow will be much, much worse.)

Ch-ch-changes

Sorry for the recent formatting changes.  I was having a hard time reading the past two templates on my laptop screen, and needed something easier.  Time to make a trip to the eye doctor, I'm sure!

Sunday, Sunday

I am:

• at the law library;
• working through a huge to-do list that must be done TODAY;
• annoyed that I spilled diet soda down my white t-shirt;
• fighting a migraine;
• without any migraine meds;
• needing to hit Costco before closing;
• not the only one in the library, which somehow annoys me; and
• cranky.

That's all.