Tag Archives: parenting

I’m back again!

12 Oct

Obviously, keeping up with my blog hasn’t been my strong suit this summer.  Or spring, really.  It’s kind of been a roller coaster of a year so far and instead of it slowing down, I think I’m just getting used to it.  Hubby has been working out-of-town a lot, leaving me with the Hellion, who has decided since this spring to really live up to that name.  Seriously, it’s at the point where his teacher & I are discussing plans to address his behavioral issues.   Every time someone gushes over how cute he is, I tell them that God made him extra cute just so I wouldn’t kill him. 

I’ve also decided that I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself to blog too seriously, if that makes sense.  To always come up with something educational or helpful in some way.  But that’s not why I started blogging.  Blogging was more of a cathartic process for me in the beginning, and if I entertained someone or helped them feel not so alone in the crazy world of paralegaling or being a working mom, then that’s super cool.  I started getting all serious about it, and of course I started to overanalyze everything which is always my downfall.   Blogging seems easiest for me when I just sit down and start typing without a complicated agenda or anything more than a sentence or two or a general idea in my head.   And that’s what I’m going to try to get back to doing.  So, I apologize now if sometimes it’s just a bunch of bitching or drivel.  It’s me and it’s what I do! 

So I hope to be back to blogging again on a more consistent basis.  I’ve definitely got my feet back under me at work and somehow my “give a shit” has started working again.  It’s nothing short of miraculous.  My fall trial was canceled, giving me some temporary breathing room, thanks in part to one of the biggest lying plaintiffs I’ve ever had the displeasure to run across.  I totally felt like a rock star providing the ammunition to bust them.  But that’s a story for another post!   Now I’m off to bed so I can get some rest and hopefully stave off the cold that my adorable little preschooler has kindly shared with me.  It’s a good thing I love him so much.


Mommy anxiety – med mal style

21 Jan

I’ve always said that we see the worst of the worst outcomes in medical malpractice law.   I’ve  had that conversation with a couple of different paralegals that I’ve trained, who started to get that “deer in the headlights” look after a short while on the job.  For every surgery where there is an unexpected complication, finding missed on an x-ray, or simple human error, there are millions of cases where everything goes well.  Of course, those people don’t sue, so we never see those. 

After a while though, the worst case scenario becomes ingrained.  I’m already a worrier, but when I decided to get pregnant and then had my son, the worry grew exponentially. 

No matter how “seasoned” you are at doing med mal, or how many times you remind yourself that you only see the worst, it can affect you.  A young paralegal that I was training during my pregnancy decided to come to my office for the express purpose of telling me the horror story of a gruesome obstetrical case she read about in an expert’s testimonial history.  Why on earth would you tell a pregnant woman about an infant that was decapitated because an ER doc at a rural hospital decided to try to deliver the baby breech?  WHY?  That paralegal left the firm and I later heard that she was pregnant.  I ignored the impulse to call her and see if she thought it was a good idea to hear about that case again. 

Every mother has enough to worry about when they get pregnant.  But knowing those worst case scenarios is almost like torture.  It didn’t help that I got my first labor and delivery case right before I got pregnant.  It was a case dealing with meconium aspiration that lead to brain damage in the baby.   I suppose the universe thought it would be funny if everything that happened to the mom in that case, except for the meconium aspiration, happened to me.  Oh, fun times.  The universe is perverse.   

Oh, and the worry doesn’t stop when you finally deliver that beautiful, healthy child.  Before I was pregnant, I was also assigned a case about a young child who had a severe respiratory infection, bronchiolitis to be exact, and died.  Naturally, my 3 month old son developed bronchiolitis and had a lot of problems with wheezing.  Cue the massive anxiety.  The ER trips.  The nights just sitting and watching him breathe to make sure he didn’t stop. I actually got more anxious when he was better and not wheezing anymore.  When he wasn’t wheezing, I couldn’t hear him breathing from his cradle near my bed.  I had to touch him to make sure he was breathing.  Thank you, universe. 

I’ve been very lucky.  My son didn’t have aspiration issues during birth or brain damage.  He didn’t develop respiratory distress during his illness to the point that he needed assistance breathing.  It seems there were a million other little things that happened to my son in his first year.  I was beginning to worry that people would think I had Munchausens by Proxy.  I didn’t want the attention and I certainly didn’t want the medical bills. 

Sometimes I feel lucky that I have learned a lot about medicine by doing med mal law.  If I don’t already know what a certain medicine does, or what the doctor is talking about, I know where to get reliable information.  Sometimes I really wish I didn’t know any of it.  But then my mom will talk to me about her doctor’s appointment and I can clarify things for her.  Or someone asks me a question and I can help them.  Then I’m happy that I have that ability.  I just wish the universe would leave my son out of it!   Can you see me when he starts driving and I remember all of those car accident cases I worked on?  I might need to start talking myself down from that now.

And you expected what?…

3 Jan

Today I was brave.  Today I had the day off due to T’s daycare apparently having a brain fart, and deciding that today would be a great day to close instead of Friday.  You know, when the rest of the world seems to be off work.  Okay, I’m not really that upset because – HELLO!  I had all day off and somewhere to drop the hellion off for the entire day.   I was also okay with taking a vacation day today since I didn’t have anything pressing that would require me to be present Monday.  Oh darn, another 4 day weekend, whatever shall I do?

Aaaannnndddd…. cue Murphy’s Law.  Thursday AM I was reading Attorney B’s calendar when I noticed an initial meeting on a new case I had been assigned.  Trying to cover my bases (ok, cover my ass, really) I emailed Attorney B to just to make sure he knew we didn’t have any medical records on the case yet, and in case they were sitting on his desk somewhere, get him to pull his head out of his ass long enough to give them to me.  Sure enough, I get an email to contact the doctor’s office manager right away to get the records ASAP.  Oh yeah, they’re going to love that phone call.  “Sorry, my boss just now realized that we have nothing to meet with your boss about on Wednesday.  Would you mind stopping everything and sending me a copy of the file.  Now.  Pretty please?”   But even that turned out to be not as bad as it could have been.  They actually did have the records copied and waiting for us to pick up.  Except that they are 2 hours away from our office and we had no idea the records were waiting for us.  But they agreed to fax the records. (FYI, I HATE faxed medical records.  Let’s take something that is sometimes difficult to read anyway & make an even worse copy. Great idea.)   Thankfully, it was only about 60 pages, so big deal.

Here’s the part that totally screws up my Monday off.  Attorney B is meeting with this client on Wed AM.  At the client’s office, 2 hours away.  Which means I will not be seeing him on Wed AM to get the records to him.  He’s also out of the office Tuesday afternoon for another meeting.  So that would leave me with just Tuesday AM to get everything together and to him.  I spent a few hours this weekend organizing and summarizing the chart, and doing some preliminary medical research on the issues.  That’s fine, but I really need to get make labels, 2 copies of the records and print everything out.   Ideally, I probably would have considered going into the office on Saturday or Sunday to finish.  Nope, I decide it’s a really great idea to take Mr. T., aka the Hellion, to the office with me for an hour or two on Monday to finalize everything. 

And that’s where the title of this post comes in.  Making labels and 2 extra copies of the chart in notebooks is usually not a difficult task.  Except when you’ve got a 3 year old rummaging through your desk drawer, using that White-out tape stuff to decorate your desk and insisting he sit on your lap and play.   Oh yeah, and finding the black Sharpie in your pen holder.  I had packed him a bag to bring with snacks, juice boxes, monster trucks, extra Pull-Ups, and his new hand-held electronic game player.  He’s obsessed with the game player lately, but do you think he’d sit still and actually play with it when I wanted him to?  If you have kids, or have even spent any time around them, you already know the answer to this is, “Are you flippin’ crazy?”  He had no interest in his game player until about 10 minutes before I was ready to leave.  Naturally. 

And Murphy’s Law struck again.  When you really, really, REALLY need to be able to make some copies and scan records quickly, the main copier will be down.  Yep, I was stuck using our incredibly slow, rinky-dink, back up copier.  Which sucks hairy camel nads.  And doesn’t 3 hole punch.  And guess what else?  Since it had been so long since I had used that copier for multiple copies in a while, I forgot that you have to tell it collate.  So I’m trying to make copies as quickly as I can, and hoping that Mr. T keeps his cute little butt inside my office.  I had thought about taking him with me, but 3 year old’s don’t stand still very well.  Their volume level is always incredibly, skull-shatteringly loud, as well.   At one point, I looked over and could see the top of my office door was now open.  I ran over and expected to see him peering out, but he WAS.NOT.THERE.  I barely had time to panic, when I heard something behind me and turned around to see him in an empty cubicle right out side my door, standing among boxes stacked about as high as he is.  I didn’t even have to say anything.  I glared at him, and he replied, “Mommy, I was waiting for you here.”  Yeah, sure kid.  Way to think on your feet, though.

We got out of there in about 2 hours.  I took him to McDonald’s for lunch and to let him get the wiggles out on the playground.  Then he pitched a ROYAL fit when it was time to leave.  Despite a discussion and lots of warnings and threats about doing so before we even got there.  He continued to show his butt all the way home and when I tried to put him down for a nap.  Or at least “rest time”.  Actually, the rest time is for me.  Also, so I don’t have to post bail or explain why I’ve stuck him beside the road with a sign reading, “Free to Good Home.” 

Seriously, I know he’s got a bad kid.  But DAMN.  3 year olds will exhaust you.  It was really my fault for expecting too much of him.  He really wasn’t too bad at the office, it was the aftermath at McDonald’s and on the way home that did me in.  I should have known that keeping him cooped up for 2 hours and then expecting him to willingly and happily leave the McDonald’s would be too much.  We were pushing the limits on nap time, as well.

But, the cutest thing ever today?  When we walked into my office, he said, “Where are the toys?”   He really expected toys to be there.  Really, doesn’t EVERYBODY have toys everywhere they go?  I really hope someone overheard him say that because I’d hate to have been the only one to get a chuckle out of that. 

Really, I will be happy to get back to the office tomorrow.  God only knows what little surprises T has left for me around my office.

Tales from neurotic, frazzled, working mommy land

6 Dec

Yet again, it’s Monday.   The day where I wake up before I want to, drag a kid out of bed before he wants to, make him get dressed even though he really, REALLY wants to wear his pajamas (the same set he’s worn the past 3 nights), we both leave the house even though we don’t want to at ALL, drag said kid into daycare even though he doesn’t want to, drive myself to work even though I don’t want to and then settle into my desk.  Is it any wonder I wake up on Monday mornings thinking, “Why am I doing this?”  Because income and the ability to pay my mortgage is good.  Also, for some demented reason, I really do like my job.  And in my post-child flabby condition, hooking on the corner is not an option.  Besides, I don’t like the cold.

I recently read a post, I think it was on the Spilled Milk blog by Law Momma, about working vs. stay at home moms.  Her mother was a stay at home, and therefore this mommy felt guilt about going to work.  My mom was always a working mother, and also (most of the time) a single mom.  It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t work.  In fact, I used to play “office” on my front porch with an old manual typewriter and some empty office supply boxes that I Mom brought home for me.  (Guess that should have been the first sign that I was warped.) 

Nevertheless, having the opposite upbringing, I still feel guilt over sending my little hellion to daycare while I work.  I know “Mommy Guilt” happens to everybody.  (At least I no longer have the urge to rush to his daycare to make sure it hasn’t exploded every time I hear a fire engine go by the office with sirens wailing.  Thank you, medication.)

Sometimes I feel guilty when I’m super happy to drop him off at daycare in the mornings because he is 3 and now opposed to everything I want him to do.  I won’t let him eat candy first thing in the morning or watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for hours on end, so apparently I must be punished.  I should want to sit with him all day, reading books and playing Memory, or pushing him on his tricycle.  I do love doing all those things, but the silence of my office and the ability to have an adult conversation, complete with bad words and words I don’t have to spell, is awesome.  I love being able to think analytically about something other than how I can convince a 3 year old that wearing days old pajamas to school isn’t going to happen.  I love my career and always planned on working, which is why we only have one child.  Everybody handles things differently, but I don’t think I could work and do justice to more than one kid.   (Still, I worry about T not having a sibling.  See?  It’s a no-win.) 

I know stay at home moms have their own things to worry about and feel guilty over.  And the grass is always greener, right?  If I don’t feel guilty about enjoying my work, then I start thinking that maybe he would be potty trained by now if I stayed home.  Did I pick the right daycare?  Is he getting the right amount of stimulation?  Does he act up when I’m around because I’m not giving him enough attention? 

We all do the best we can, whether it’s having kids and a career or if being a mom is your career.  My son is loved and cared for, which is all that really matters.   When I pick him up from daycare, and he smiles and yells, “Mommy!”, then shows me the artwork he made that day, I’m good.   At least I know I’m not alone in the world of Mommy Guilt, second guesses, and frazzledness.   It’s probably the one thing all moms have in common. 

By the way, he tried to write his name all by himself for the first time this weekend!  It’s nearly legible, too.  LOL  We also we got our first “non screaming and/or crying” with Santa Claus picture! Yay!

Potty success! (Sort of)

25 Oct

I was so excited last night, I could hardly contain myself.   We were visiting some friends last night, we had dropped by on our way home after dinner.  We were outside, in the front yard, and Mr. T would occasionally grab his crotch & kinda dance around.  Hubby asks if he has to go potty.  He said he did & they went inside to the bathroom.  Less than 2 minutes later, they came back out.  As I had predicted 30 seconds prior, T changed his mind the minute it looked like he might have to actually sit on the toilet.  So a few minutes later, he starts doing the same thing again.  This time I took him to the bathroom….and he peed!  Like, right away!  The only time we’ve been able to get him to pee on the potty before was if he sat there for like 30 minutes.   Oh, I made such a big deal about it.  I told him he could make a big announcement to EVERYBODY that he peed in the potty. (Editors note: did you know the spell checker doesn’t like “peed”?  Huh.)

The cutest part was when he went outside and, of course, proudly exclaimed that he had peed!  In the potty!  And washed his hands!  And the soap was blue!  Then their dog sauntered up, probably to see what all the commotion was about.  T squatted down in front of the dog and said, “Doggy, I peed in the potty!”  Cutest. Thing. Ever.  Ok, at least the cutest thing this weekend. 

Of course, I’m thrilled to death and immediately imagine that this is the beginning of the end for Pull-Ups in my house.  I’m envisioning T being completely trained and going to the potty from here on out.  Aaaaand, that’s where the dream ended.  This morning he said he wanted to go, but as soon as we got near the potty, nope.  Ain’t gonna do it.   He was actually begging me to put his Pull-Ups back on.  *sigh* Oh well, at least it’s some progress!

And it’s Monday, or, “The Day We Don’t Speak of” in my house.   Back to wading through medical records and depo summaries; juggling cases/priorities and hoping that I don’t get an email or phone call with a project that must be done right away.  Here’s hoping I might actually get something finished & off my desk today.

Wanted: 3 year old tamer & potty trainer

21 Oct

Work has mellowed out (a teensy bit) this week so I’m back to worrying about my son and how he’s not potty trained.  And how he’s dead set on pushing all of my buttons.  At once.   Once upon a time, I was so excited that he was moving on from the “terrible two’s”.  It was so close I could taste it.  Then somebody said, “Oh, wait until he’s 3.  That’s the worst.”  Whuck?  Why do people wait until you’re at the end of the 2’s stage, and think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, only to tell you, “Guess what?  That light is a Mack truck & it’s carrying a ton of bricks!  Have fun!”   Yeah, yeah, I know.  Every kid is different.  But seriously, I know a ton of people who complain about the 3’s.  Some mean, rotten person even told me that 4’s were no fun either.   C’mon, we barely got into the 3’s and you’re telling me it gets worse?  Just stab me in the heart and get it over with already.

In all honesty, I really don’t worry about what other people say.  Mr. T is going to do whatever it is he is going to do, and I’ll deal with it.  But, damn, if he isn’t acting like a typical 3 year old lately.  Case in point:  Driving home the other night, he starts whining and says, “Mommy, I wanna go hooommmme.”  (Long, drawn out and whiny.  Did I mention whiny?)  No problem, for once we’re doing what he wants to do.  “Okay, good, because that’s where we’re going.  We’re going home.”  Mr. T took 2 seconds to digest this and then starts, again with the whiny, pathetic voice, “No, I wanna go to schooooolll.”   Super.  Since we’re doing what he said he wanted to do, now he wants to do the opposite.    We’re working with him on the whining, telling him to just ask nicely, and “We can’t hear whining.”   It works once you remind him, but dear Lord, why is whining the default setting on 3 year olds?  Is there an override for that? 

The potty training is simply a battle of the wills at this point.  He’s not willing to do it, so it’s not happening.  And I’m not pushing him.  I know he’ll do it when he’s ready.  Then I get all concerned that maybe I’m not doing enough to get him there.  That’s one of the great things about being a Mommy: you usually worry no matter which course of action you take.  Am I pushing too hard?  Am I not bringing it up enough?  One day he’s asking to use the potty (although not actually going once he’s on it) and other times he wants nothing to do with it.  Nope, totally content to wear Pull-ups.  *sigh*  Seriously, I’m willing to pay someone to potty train him at this point.  Is there a “potty whisperer”? 

(Warning: Rant ahead)  Don’t even get me started on the teacher’s aide who asked me Monday if he had any siblings.  Now, let me say this:  Monday was a particularly bad day, complete with a total meltdown once we got to daycare.  Oh, what fun that was – screaming, pushing, throwing himself on the ground, etc.  I can’t even tell you what he was upset about.  I took him in the bathroom to have a private chat, which then he decided was a great opportunity to throw a plastic footstool.  Awesome.  Needless to say, that was another day that I did NOT get to work in a timely fashion.   So when I picked him up that afternoon, I was greeted with that question from the teacher’s aide.  No, Mr. T doesn’t have siblings.  And he’s not going to have any.  What I should have asked was, “Why?”  But I didn’t.  Even when she said, “Oh, that’s what I thought.”   At the time, I was frazzled, tired and just wanted to go home.  T was running around like a wild hyena and all I wanted to do was corral him to the door & go home.  Once I got in the car, I started thinking, “What the hell did she mean by that?”   Then I started getting pissy and of course, I’m assuming that her thinking T was an only child had a negative connotation.   Screw her, my kid is great.  Yeah, he’s 3 and he likes pushing the limits lately.  But he’s polite, sweet, smart, charming, funny and the cutest frickin’ kid you’ve ever seen.  How many kids say “Excuse me” and smile sweetly every time they fart?  He’s been around other kids on a nearly daily basis since he was 8 weeks old.  He shares, hugs friends when they are upset, and loves playing with his friends on the playground.  He’s also happiest when you’re reading him a book or showing him how to draw shapes.  He’s not missing on anything by not having a sibling and he’s certainly not spoiled.  I’ll be damned if I’m going to have “one of those” kids.  So, Ms. Teachers Aide Who Only Has Known My Kid for a Month, SUCK IT.  (Gee, do you think I’m a bit touchy about it?) 

But he did the coolest thing tonight.  He tried to draw a T for the first time!  And he did an awesome job!  Okay, so T’s aren’t exactly the most challenging of the letters, but I was proud of him.  He said, “I can’t do it, Mommy.”  And then, he did it!   Then he drew a monster truck (of course) and for the first time I can think of, it actually looked like something vaguely resembling a monster truck and not scribbles.   Then he flipped the page and drew a pumpkin – with a smiley face!  So, having a 3 year old isn’t so bad after all.  Maybe I should tape the pumpkin drawing up in my car somewhere to remind me it’s not all whining and meltdowns.


7 Oct

Juggling seems to be the theme of my life lately.  I know I am completely not alone in this feeling.  There are plenty of people, working moms and non-moms alike, who probably think, “Welcome to the frickin’ club!  You want a cookie or something?”  (And truthfully, I will never say no to a cookie.)  Anymore, it just seems like if I’m not juggling chores at home, I’m juggling cases at work, bouncing back and forth between working on my own cases and assisting our newbie paralegal get her feet under her, and juggling my own time of what I want to accomplish and what I need to accomplish.  Oh yeah, I also have a husband that I have to fit in there somewhere.  Just yesterday I was thinking that I am adding more to my plate with volunteering as the treasurer on the parent board for my son’s preschool and committing more of myself to my blog, when I have been whining all along that I never have enough time.  However, I felt a bit more energized and challenged; ready to tackle anything and everything.  Um, can you say temporary insanity?  Maybe it’s the permanent variety instead. 

Then reality comes crashing down, as usual.  I received an email from Boss A letting me know of a depo that was just scheduled and the need to have two very voluminous depositions summarized before then.  Which reminds me that I just got some additional medical records in this case which need to be organized, summarized and disseminated to the experts, then I must update my memo concerning records we still need.  And there’s a large stack of medical bills from the plaintiff in that case that are mocking me from the corner of my desk.

I have another stack of medical records received via authorization in another case that need to be logged, bates stamped and produced to other parties before also being organized, summarized and disseminated.  Never mind that we are quickly approaching a trial date on a case that I knew nothing about two months ago.  And a huge case that was in limbo is now back in action.  I think I’ll stop here before my brain implodes.

I’ve always performed better when I was challenged, but this is borderline ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with me?  I know I’m a masochist because, hello, I work in litigation and more specifically medical malpractice.  But I really do feel like I’ve gotten out of my rut mentally since taking on more.  Your Honor, I plead insanity. 

On the home front, T is beginning to show some little signs of being ready to use the potty.  Yay!  He told his teachers the other day that he wanted to wear his undies and did sit on the potty, but didn’t go.  He had 1 accident in his undies and was wearing another pair when I picked him up.  Since we were going out to dinner, and I am NOT brave enough to try public outings without vinyl covers or Pull-ups, he went back into a Pull-up when we got home.  But – at least he’s thinking about it.  On the way home last night, he said he wanted to go potty.  Unfortunately, it’s a long ride home and by the time we got there, he changed his mind.  But, again, he’s thinking about it!  Oh, and he’s turning into such a little BOY and not the sweet, cuddly toddler he used to be.  Yesterday, his toy dinosaur was eating a sweet little chick finger puppet from last Easter.  It used to be that his animal friends played together and raced monster trucks.  Now they are carnivorous.  *sigh* Another bittersweet reminder that my little guy is growing up.

Well, well, well…

3 Oct

It seems as if my little blog is taking off.  53 views Friday!  53!  Thanks to Paralegal Hell and Practical Paralegalism for the shout outs on their blogs.  You’re awesome, ladies!   I also got added to the Criminal Justice Degree School‘s Top 25 Paralegal Blogs.  Whuck?  (Boy, am I link happy today, or what?)  I think Criminal Justice Degree Schools had a hard time finding 25 paralegal blogs, that’s what I think.  (Which is sad in it’s own way.) Oh well, nonetheless, there I am!  On the internets!  Exciting stuff, I tell ya.

So now what?  Maybe I should give a little more consideration to the rants and drivel that I feel inclined to post.  Nah, that just wouldn’t be me.  I shall press on, drivel and all.  I think I have an interesting little niche, blogging about paralegaling and parenting.   And believe me, there’s a lot of overlapping going on there.   Here is a standard conversation in my office on any given day:  Boss B: Have you seen my Smith notebook?  (While he starts poking around at the other notebooks in my office)  Me: Nope, I don’t have any parts of that case in my office.  Boss B:  Are you sure? (still poking his nose in things).  Me: Yes, I’ll help you look for it.   (Boss B goes back to the file room, and I head to his office.)  Me:  Isn’t this it right here? (Stealthily hidden under 2 sheets of paper on his credenza.)  Boss B:  Oh yeah! Thanks!    It seems a lot like my convo’s with my 3 year old T.  Mommy, where is my dump truck?  I can’t find my dump truck!  (Near tears).  Me: Did you look in the box of trucks?   T:  There it is!  Thanks, mommy!  

Maybe this will actually compel my husband to read my blog?  I tried explaining what was happening with my blog, blogrolls, etc.  I stopped after I started getting his glazed over look.  Still, I bookmarked it so he can find it later, if he feels so inclined.  

Speaking of Hubby, he has taken T to the grocery store (sans nap, God help him) and I was going to post about juggling motherhood and career, but I will save that for another time.  I’m going to use my rare moment of peace to catch up on some DVR’d shows – Whoo hooo!


23 Aug

the cashier at Party City called me “Gorgeous”. I’m pretty sure he was just being nice & hoping for repeat business, but I still enjoyed it!  Hey, these days, I take it where I can get it!     And that actually reminds me of something that happened when we were in the car on my birthday, coming back from dinner.  The best part of my birthday was when my son said, “Mommy,  you very pretty!”   That was the exact moment he completed the act of wrapping me around his little finger.  Just for the record.  (Also for the record, it began the moment I saw his dimples for the first time. Like 0.5 seconds after birth.)  That super sweet moment almost made me forget he told me I had a big butt the week before…almost. 

Besides trying to focus on work in the midst of planning a birthday party, and pretty much just trying to stay awake, I am thinking of changing T’s daycare.  The teachers have been great with him, and he’s learned so much, however the management has changed since the previous director retired this past Spring.  I loved his old director.  She was sweet, motherly and just all kinds of awesome.  She knew all of “her kids” in the school and sat at the front desk on a regular basis, chatting with parents all the time.  She always asked me how I was doing and genuinely cared about  my answer.   If she wanted to be BFF’s, I totally would!  And don’t even ask if I’d switch her out for my mom.  That wouldn’t even be a question.  The new management doesn’t know my son from Adam, and they recently pissed me off royally by lying to me about something that wouldn’t have been a big deal if they just said, I’m sorry, it was a mistake.  I’m unhappy with them, and it is not going away.

So now I’m faced with A)finding a new daycare that will still challenge him developmentally since he’s ahead of his age group, and B)how do I tell him that I’m uprooting him from a place he has been almost as much as his own home since he was 8 weeks old?  It’s the only daycare he has ever known, and he has friends there that he’s known, um, well, his entire short little life!  It will work out, but it’s just yet another thing makes it so complicated to balance work, child, husband, home and still leave a tiny sliver of time for me.   I feel like my brain is completely compartmentalized, like those cool bento boxes, except I have a hard time mixing the teriyaki veggies with the rice in the other compartment.  It’s hard to turn off the mommy part of my brain, and turn on the paralegal part, and vice versa. 

Now I’ve gotten all whiny and well….whiny, and that’s no fun at all!  On the up side, T’s monster truck birthday cake has been ordered, more people are coming that I expected, and I’m going to finalize the food order in a day or so.  I picked up the last of the paper products today.  Yay!  I love having something happy to focus!  (And it’s so much more interesting that work…..pheh.)

This is not my week…

18 Aug

I’ve been told that the following email I wrote to a friend should be put on my blog. So here goes, I hope others can find some amusement in my crappy day!

I almost lost my Schmidt (as they say in one of my favorite blogs, www.rantsfrommommyland.com) Monday night in Walmart w/ T. It was the longest check out experience with only 3 items in the history of Wal-Mart. Well, at least my history with Wal-Mart. Because I’m all hormonal and hair-triggery this week, I’m so happy I maintained my composure. I left work late, and when I got home, hubby was in the middle of cleaning the A/C coil outside. He mentioned going out to eat and I really needed to get invitation envelopes for the awesome ones I made for T’s birthday online. So he suggested I take T to Wal-Mart and pick up Chinese on the way home. Super. We start out at like 6:45, which is already kinda late in my book, and get to Wal-mart. Except I realized half way there that my cell phone has died & I don’t have a car charger for the new blackberry yet. So no phoning in the Chinese order from the Wal-Mart parking lot & breeze in to get it on the way home. Great. So I go in & find the envelopes, and go to find another 5 pack of matchbox cars to use as potty-training bribes, because even though I could carpet my living room in matchbox cars, I will do ANYTHING to get him out of pull-ups. And matchbox cars seem to work better than anything. So we’re cruising the toy dept. and he spots the monster trucks. Oh crap. I don’t know that Wal-mart well enough to avoid the aisle, but if it was Target, I could have totally side stepped that. I calmly explain that he hasn’t been good enough yet to get the 2 monster trucks on the table back, so I’m not going to buy him a new one. (If he’s “not nice” we take away a monster truck & it sits on the kitchen table, taunting him, until he’s good for a whole day & can get it back.) So we take 5 years to pick out a box of matchbox cars, because he’s tired and wired & completely ADD at this point, but I get him out of that aisle. Only to find monster trucks on an end-cap. And I see “Backwards Bob” which is one of his favorite trucks, and one I never see. So I tell him we’ll get Backwards Bob.  Except, he doesn’t want Backwards Bob. He wants something called “Rap Attack” (which is aptly named, now that I think about. My ears feel attacked if I hear rap.) because it has a bright green undercarriage. We compromise & get Pure Adrenaline, which is actually not a compromise since I told him we weren’t buying one. He’s tricky smart, that one.

We finally go to the checkout. There’s a line at each of the “check yourself out” registers, and I figure, this can’t take that long, right? WRONG. Apparently people who have no idea how to work those things are always the ones that wind up in front of me at one of those things. We stand there for what feels like 1/2 of eternity, and I decide that the express lane (10 items) w/ a cashier has to move quicker. We move over there and at first things seem good. I’m like 4th in line, and someone is already moving on. Super. Then these people whip out a Visa gift card, and the delay begins. After a while, the cashier walks off, probably to go find somebody, and I figure at this point the scan-it-yourself challenged people must have moved on. So I go back over there. WRONG AGAIN. So I’m still waiting in line, for what seems like the other 1/2 of eternity. I tell T to get his finger out of his nose & he WIGS OUT. Kinda doing a raspberry sound thing w/ his mouth /kinda spitting, throws down his copy of the invitation I gave him and when I take both sides of his head and say sternly & quietly “you better quit” he decides to SCREAM. Yes, our first public fit. So I tell him the monster truck is going back. I get the whole “Noooo!” and crying bit, but I maintained my composure and explained to him it was going back because he wasn’t being nice. And I asked him to REMEMBER what it was that he did that wasn’t nice. He actually calmed down, but he wasn’t too happy. I so wanted to just pick him up & leave Wal-Mart when he did that, but I REALLY needed those envelopes!

So by now, there’s still a line of people who can’t work the scanners. And since some of those were there to witness the fit, I decide to go back to the 10 items w/ the cashier line. I finally wait for the guy who worked the register like he was coated in molasses to ring us up & get out of there. 45 MINUTES LATER. I know I spent around 3/4 of that in line. And now it’s REALLY late and I still have to go over and wait for Chinese food. Get to the restaurant, threatened T w/ another monster truck taken away if he acts up, and go in. Thank goodness they are nice & it took less than 10 minutes to finish the order because T is WAY beyond tired at this point & wants really bad to take his truck (one he brought with him) & roll around on the floor. I have no idea why. We get home, and now T, who before was really excited about trying “Chinese noodles” aka chicken lo mein (I figure it’s gotta be more nutritious than sweet & sour chicken), suddenly doesn’t wan’t to eat it AT ALL. But he’ll chow down on the steamed broccoli from my General Tso’s in a heartbeat. Go figure. He eats some of hubby’s won tons from his soup and we finally get him to at least TRY a lo mein noodle, and lo & behold, he likes it! Then he starts eating it w/ his hands. We finally corralled him into bed right at 9, which is late for him. Monday was not my favorite day, for obvious reasons.

I think this WEEK is just not my week.  Last night I broke the carafe for the coffee pot while setting it up for this AM.  So no coffee for me this AM, and it’s my birthday.  RIP coffee pot.  And I was so desperate this AM I drank diet Mountain Dew.  Because the cat, who is normally banned from our bedroom because as a kitten he dive bombed us from the top of the headboard at like, oh, 2 AM, somehow got into the bedroom and started meowing at some hellish hour before it was light.  Maybe he just wanted to be the first to tell me happy bday?  Now I’ve got borderline-drinkable office coffee and trying to decide what to do for lunch.  A friend who was going to take me to lunch today is out with her mother who broke her hip last night.   I didn’t bring lunch today, which is small potatoes compared to having  a mother in the hospital with a broke hip, but still, not shaping up to be “my week”, is it?   That’s okay, I still have a super awesome kiddo, even if he throws fits in Wal-Mart, and I’m really looking forward to his birthday in a couple of weeks!  THAT I will have some control over & it will be great!

By the way, Rants from Mommyland is still all kinds of awesome, even if you don’t have kids.  There is the potential there to seriously pee your pants laughing, they are so hysterical!  They should have a warning that you may need a change of undies, Depends, or something when viewing their site.