Wednesday, April 30, 2008


For those not in the baby-slang-know, SAHNM means Stay At Home Nursing Mom.

Someone on the LSMSA Reunion forum posted about a SAHNM who was arrested overnight for a minor criminal offense and the trauma it caused to mom and baby. (Just FYI, the arrest did sound stupid and unnecessary. But that's not what this blog is about.) The person on the forum (who absolutely could be reading this, but that's fine...I wrote on the forum, too, but not in the detail I can on my own blog) commented on how horrible it is to separate a SAHNM, in part because the baby solely relies on mom and in part because formula is a poor substitute for breastmilk.

And I found myself in full disagreement with that analysis.

If a mom chooses to be a SAHNM, I fully support her. After all, I truly believe kids need much more parent time than most kids actually get, and having one parent stay at home is a solution to that problem. (Another is to have parents work flexible schedules and choose childcare carefully, which is what Alan and I do). And of course I support a nursing mom. She is giving her child important bonding and antibodies that are not present in formula.


A mom has an obligation to ensure that their child is prepared to cope with separation. Even a parent who is never arrested (most parents, I hope) could get sick. Or have a parent die in another state. Or need to spend the night with a sick older kid in the hospital. Fortunately, most children have TWO parents (at least as babies...sigh). Moms who use their SAHM status to neglect to share parenting opportunities with dads, and dads who fail to step in and demand to be involved parents, are doing a huge disservice to their children. Even in a single parent household, occasionally having a sitter is a wonderful way to give your baby comfort with other people. SAHM does NOT mean ONLY PARENT IN EXISTENCE. How horrible for children whose parents disagree with that.

Also, formula is appropriate for one night, except for extreme cases of allergy, when mom CANNOT nurse. Even people who think breastfeeding is the only appropriate choice for feeding a baby (and, in the interest of full disclosure, I have no problem with formula) would for the most part agree that, in an emergency, for one night, formula is appropriate. Personally, I think nursing moms have an obligation to teach their babies to drink from a bottle, just because you never know what might happen.

I know I'm on my soapbox, but I'm tired of dads being disenfranchised and babies only being able to depend on mom. It's not right. SAHNM or WFM (Working Formula Mom) or anything in is important and coping skills for your baby are important.



On Friday, I reach 17 weeks. I also have my first doctor's appointment in almost 5 weeks. I have NEVER gone five weeks in a pregnancy without a single doctor's appointment. I've NEVER gone two weeks in a pregnancy without a doctor's appointment. So I'm really nervous. I mean, I know the chances of losing a baby at 17 weeks and beyond are really, really slim, but it's nice to hear that heartbeat on a regular basis, you know?

Also, symptom wise, I'm still having a hard time. It's almost difficult to say this, because the hard time I had with Ander was MUCH HARDER. But I'm still puking 2-4 days per week. And I still have little or no appetite. At 17 weeks, I'm still not gaining weight, though my belly is much bigger. My uterus actually hurts as it stretches. My back is killing me. KILLING ME.

And Alan, of course, is working crazy overtime. Ander's being great...and he loves mommy time, but he misses daddy.


One Trial Down, One To Go

I am so glad my trial is over. One next week, and then I'm done for a while. It went okay. My guy was found not guilty on one of the two counts, which is a decent result.

On Friday, we go to the doctor. I cannot wait to hear a heartbeat. I'm nervous, but then again, I'm too busy to really be nervous.

I threw up again today! Sigh. And for the past two days, I've had no appetite. It is so difficult to eat without an appetite. I gag. I feel funny. I just can't shove down food. It doesn't matter if it's chocolate cake; I feel like I'm trying to eat a roach or dog food. Ugh.


Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Homework and Baby Showers

No, these two topics are not related. I just happen to have something to say about each one, and no time for two posts.

I'm preparing for trial tomorrow. It's a bench trial, so I don't need to prepare for voir dire, which is the questioning of a jury. But I still need a short opening, direct examination of potential witnesses, cross examination, and a closing. Preparing for trial is so much like doing homework. You read. You make notes. You brainstorm. And then, you memorize what you can so you are sharp in court. Of course, you get to use notes in court, but I like to look sharp. Too bad none of my suits fit my pregnant belly and all the maternity suits in town are way too big.

On to baby showers. My mother doesn't believe in them. Drives me crazy. I volunteered to host my sister's baby shower. It's her first baby. Since this is my second, I wanted it to be clear to people that this is her shower. I figure the easiest way to do this is to host the shower myself. My mom, however, took the opportunity to lecture me on how baby showers are silly.

In my family, we mostly only do showers for first babies. While I agree that no one should EXPECT a shower, my shower really helped me out. Sure, in my lifetime, I'll spend as much on others' showers as I would have spent just buying the stuff I received as gifts myself. But I didn't have to pay for everything at once, at an already stressful time. That was a huge relief. Why would I not share that with my sister?

Plus, for my shower, my mom invited tons of people I didn't even know. If baby showers are so unimportant, why does the whole town need to be there? :/


Monday, April 28, 2008

Crazy Two Weeks

My work schedule is jammed packed. In the next two weeks, I have court 5 times, including 4 trials (2 juvenile, 2 adult), with one as a jury trial. It will be a miracle if I make it through. Things should calm down after that, but the next two weeks will be hell.

My doctor's appointment is Friday. By then, I won't have heard the baby's heartbeat in about 5 weeks, because I changed my doctor visit day from Tuesdays to Fridays. I'm so nervous that there won't be a heartbeat. I know that's silly. My tummy is growing. I have no bleeding or cramping. Everything seems fine. I think that once you have a miscarriage, you cannot get the fear out of your mind.


Sunday, April 27, 2008

Family Day

Alan and I spent the whole day as a family. We did the zoo, then Ninfa's, then groceries. After that, we hung out. Ander and I napped. It was nice.

My son loves Ninfa's. He watched the ladies make "bread." When the waitress asked if we needed anything, he said "bread." :) So she brought him some. He was thrilled. We made him "burritos" out of steak, beans, rice, and some veggies. Low and behold, he eats veggies when they are cooked by Ninfa's and wrapped in bread. A man after my own heart!


Saturday, April 26, 2008


Well, that title some get some interesting hits. ;) But it's quite innocent, actually.

Ander is learning body parts. He can tell you all about mommy's belly, with a baby inside. He shakes his elbows in the car. And he's known about his penis (and how just boys and daddies have them) for ages.

But his current favorite is boobies.

As in, I keep telling him that, no son, it's not appropriate to stroke mommy's. And yes, they are big. That's because of the baby.

Striking the right balance between letting him learn and teaching him the limits is very difficult, especially with a new, presumably nursing, baby on the way. After all, the baby will get to touch them. That is going to get Ander M-A-D mad. He will inevitably tell the baby "no, no" and try to remove the baby. I can't let him do that, of course. But he also can't be playing with mine.

I've explained that the baby will only drink milk at first. I explained that Ander has a sippy or a cup, because he is a big boy, but the baby will drink milk from mommy's boobies or a bottle, because the baby is a baby.

But nothing makes me think that Ander will refrain from knocking the baby over because, clearly, the baby isn't following the rules.

Oh, the time outs that await us.


Friday, April 25, 2008

The Shots

Since I'm trying to take Fridays off - or more accurately, since I'm swamped at work, work at home on Fridays - to save on gas, I was home today. We had four things on the agenda.

First, I needed gas. Then, Ander needed shots. We needed to go to the grocery store, and then Ander had a playdate at 3 p.m. at the park.

I needed gas so desperately that I stopped at the nearby (read: EXPENSIVE AS HELL) gas station, just to get a gallon or two. Two gallons = seven dollars. Sigh. Then I went on to Sam's. The tanks were broken, so it took twenty minutes to pump 10 gallons. The person behind me didn't realize the tanks were going really slow and was really upset with me. :/

Ander doesn't need an appointment to get shots. The office kept telling me that. Oh, wait. Except that the nurse isn't there to do shots on Friday. Sigh.

Groceries went smoothly, at least. The lady behind me said Ander was cute and smart. Okay, at that second he was. But I was stressed, because two seconds before she walked up, he was being horrible!!!

Oh, and the playdate? It's going to rain out.

At least we had adventures this morning.


Thursday, April 24, 2008

Disappointing Your Kids

On Supernanny last night, a lady was letting her 4 year old suck a paci because she "didn't want to disappoint" her kids. Her eight year old (and the two younger sisters) were still sleeping with mom, while dad slept on the couch, because it broke mom's heart to make the kids sleep in their beds. The kids got to do whatever they wanted, because otherwise they would cry, and mom couldn't deal with crying.

I've seen other people give in to their kids. I've seen parents be very sad because their kids were "hurt" by being told no or not getting what they wanted. The parents I've seen were seriously upset. I've seen them bribe their kids to return to the dinner table, or not hit others, or whatever it is that I would have just expected from the child, without a bribe. (I'm not above bribes, BTW...;)...just not for these things!)

I never understand it, no matter how many times I see it.

It never breaks my heart that Ander cries because he doesn't get a candy or toy at the store. I shrug and move on. He wants to play in the park...and I need to get home and make supper? Shrug. We go home. Ander goes in timeout for (usually) hitting mommy when he gets frustrated and cranky. Yes, I realize he only does this when frustrated. But I still don't feel bad that he is crying. I actually feel empowered, because I get to calmly change the behavior from unacceptable to acceptable behavior.

I know these other parents aren't faking the sad feelings. They truly feel bad. The lady on Supernanny clearly felt awful.

But I just don't get it, even a little. I've had people acuse me of being cold as a parent. I'm certainly not. It breaks my heart when Ander cries - if he cries because he is hurt or sick. It breaks my heart if he cries because his feelings are hurt by someone. Except, of course, if what hurt his feelings was getting in trouble for something he should have not have done. Then, I don't feel bad at all. It's not like I ignore the bad feeling; I simply do not feel it.

People talk about "mothering instinct." I never really thought I had it. I still don't. I don't mother by instinct. I parent based on addressing my child's needs, including setting boundaries, providing stimulation, and demonstrating positive human interactions.

And I'm not sure of this, but maybe by "mothering instinct," people mean this sadness moms seem to get when their kids are upset, no matter the reason behind the upset. If that is what people mean, then I'm glad I don't have that. If I did, I'd either have to ignore my instinct OR give in to my child, and either sounds horrible for my kid.

I am always worried about disappointing my kid. I'm worried he won't think I'm a person he can trust. I'm worried that he will see me slip and do something unethical and judge it (meaning that I'm even more ethical now that my already anal state of trying to always do the right thing). I am scared that he will think I'm not a good enough person and be disappointed.

But I never care if I disappoint him by not giving m&ms on demand.



Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Mind Your Business

I just read this article because it appeared on a working moms blog I subscribe to. It points out that media keeps asking whether Jennifer Lopez is breastfeeding her twins. And then it questions whether anyone should care?

A lot of people do care. You'd be surprised at how many people...friends, family, internet stalkers ;), and random strangers...comment on breastfeeding. (This is, like last time, becoming more common as my belly expands rapidly.) It goes both ways, of course. Half the people say, "well, if you are even thinking about breastfeeding, you should try it. Breastfeeding is best." (At which point Kristy doesn't hesitate to give her "breastfeeding is best, except when it isn't, so why do you just spit out trite sayings that you've heard" speech, which is only fun, let me assure you, for Kristy. LOL.) The other half wince. "You aren't going to nurse, are you?" These people inevidentally use the word nurse, because, presumably, they believe that if they say the word breast, they will picture my breast, and then they will see my breast in real life (they won't...but they "think" they will), and breasts might, I don't know, bite them? Scar them? Give them hives?

I've never been one of those people who believes you never talk about religion, or politics, or money. I do believe you can decline to talk about sticky subjects, but open conversation is not harmful by nature. (This does not excuse rudeness. "How much do you make?" is pretty rude. "How much do you make?" in the context of sharing salary levels in a particular field or at a new job, forgivable. "How much do you make?" in the context of helping your friend make a budget, at her request, is great.)

But I do think the breastfeeding conversation causes damage. (This doesn't mean I'm not guilty of it. You think I don't consider, with some horror, fear, and TERROR, that in October, a baby will likely suck the life out of my already too big and too painful boobs? I consider that 20 times a day. So it's on my mind. I talk about it. This is about whether I should, not whether I do.) Either the woman is planning to breastfeed, despite the real obstacles that exist. (And don't get me going on the "any size breast" can breastfeed, so size is not an obstacle. WARNING TMI AHEAD...At the end of Ander's pregnancy, I wore a G-cup and my nipples flattened out to virtually nothing. Virtually nothing. I could breastfeed - well, except for the cancer scare and heart issues, but size did matter, people. It did. That stupid "size doesn't matter" saying refers to SMALL size. Large size does, in fact, affect breastfeeding success. It also affects modesty. Sigh.) And when you say, "you're not, are you?," you hurt mom's confidence. Or she is not planning to breastfeed, when you say "you should," she digs in her heals, asserts her independence, and doesn't even consider it...because then she would give power to the know-it-all who told her what she "should" do. Either way, the unsolicited comment is useless at best, and harmful at worse.

On to J Lo. Did she breastfeed? Really, who cares? Why in the world would anyone care? If we are worried about the welfare of her twins (and really, are we truly worried...yes, I'm talking to you), are we asking if she is driving the absolute safest car, using the topnotch car seat, hiring extra people to supervise her children, hiring a driver so she doesn't crash from the exhaustion of being up all night, having food made by a nutritionist who specializes in baby food and breastfeeding moms, sleeping with baby in the room but not in the bed as doctor's recommend...I could go on and on. Even if you truly believe breastfeeding is best (again, shudder at that silly saying), there are lots of things that are best for our kids that we don't do, because of patience, or time, or money constraints. (And don't even try to tell me that patience, time, and money don't affect breastfeeding. A working mom, to truly breastfeed well, sacrifices time pumping or staying home and money while staying home or not getting promoted because she is busy pumping. A stay-at-home mom is never totally patient with breastfeeding. Every breastfeeding relationship, with all its benefits, has negatives.) I'll exempt from the criticism that all parents sometimes don't do the "best" for their children any parent who has never raised their voice or said something negative to their kid. What's that you say? You've raised your voice? Maybe, that once, you didn't do what is best for your kid.

Of course, a weak argument for leaving other parents alone about whether they breastfeed (and this post is about leaving parents is not anti-breastfeeding at all) would certainly be that there are worse things they could be doing than bottlefeeding. But not breastfeeding is not killing babies. Not putting babies in a car seat? Yep, we can show, statiscally, that no car seat kills babies. Still, a car seat is only best WHEN IT'S BEST. If Ander is bleeding and I can only choose between getting to a hospital without a car seat or letting him continue to bleed, we're going without a car seat.

J Lo's boobs are fascinating to some. Fine. But how she uses them ain't our business, people. Her kids will live through whatever she chooses.

And my boobs...well, despite my public rants about them, which might suggest otherwise ;)...they ain't your business, either. And there's no waiver just 'cause I grew a belly.

Peace out.


Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Giftie In Training

I got to have a conversation with a wonderful 10th grader a couple of months back. She was applying to LSMSA. She called me to ask about my experience and the interview/audition process. She didn't know me, except that I was a lawyer and an alum from her hometown.

I spoke to her for a hour. She's articulate, smart, and mature. She never asked me to, but I sent a letter to Dr. Sharon anyway, recommending that they accept her. I was so impressed.

She just e-mailed me...and she was accepted! She'll be going to LSMSA in the fall.

So say a prayer that Catherine has a wonderful, enlightening LSMSA experience. Remember when so many of us left home? She does that in the fall! I'm so excited.


The People In PJ's Coffeeshop

The same people show up in this Laplace coffeeshop almost everyday. I thought, maybe, they just come on Thursdays, because my meetings in Laplace are usually on Thursday, so I come here to get a spot of work done. But, no, I'm here on a Tuesday, and there they are.

There's the cop who writes his reports in the corner, sitting at the smallest table in the place. He's very dedicated. He never pauses from his work for a second. He also checks the handicapped spaces on his way out. If someone is parked in one, he comes in to either 1) ticket them and make them move, or 2) in the case of the little old men who always forget to put up their handicap tag, hang the tag for them. He drinks his coffee black.

Of course, there are the little old men. They chat, loudly, from about 10 a.m. until right after lunch. Basically, they talk about nothing. But they talk MORE than most little old ladies I know. :) They drink cafe au lait, with skim milk. Then they complain abou the skim milk.

There's usually one person who doesn't fit the usual mold. Today, it's an older gentleman, booking his plane ride from New Orleans to some island. He's using his cell phone and laptop, and negotiating hard. He's having a Diet Coke. It's weird, since the place doesn't seem to sell Diet Coke.

The day is never complete without the salesperson. This time, it's a man who negotiates buying supplies for a contractor...nails and such, but in bulk or specialty items. He keeps calling his office and clients. He has one of those ears things that makes him look like he's not on the phone, only he's talking. So I keep catching his eye over his laptop, because I keep think he's talking to me. Awkward. A bottled water and a large coffee, with lots of cream and sugar.

And then there's gaming girl. She sits on her laptop, all day. She plays some on-line fantasy game. It's like she doesn't have a life. No responsibilities...just a laptop and a three dollar cup of coffee. her order varies.

Sometimes, the local Catholic schoolgirls (and the occasional guy) come in at lunchtime to study for exams. Always in a group, always sitting on the sofas, and always drinking something cold and sweet, no shot.

Then there's me. Except for an occasional blogging break, I'm on my cell with a client's mom and with the judge's office. I'm logging mileage and drafting pleadings and writing letters and reviewing evidence. Small granita...the only caffiene I drink now that I'm preggie.


Didn't Throw Up Yet

That's a great thing, right? I'm been up since 6 a.m. (about an hour earlier than usual), so hopefully I've missed throwing up so far. I'm feeling like crap, but hopefully that will subside, too, as the day goes on.

I can't wait until July. In July, I'll be done with the two adult felony cases I have. Adult felonies are not my favorite type of cases to do. Also, Alan will be done with session. I'll be closer to my due date (October 10, but I'm expected to deliver in late September). Rachel B. will be out at work, which sucks, but to have her baby, so that's very exciting! I think I'm looking forward to July more than October, just because I'm so nervous about delivery and having a new baby. But in July, that won't have happened yet, plus Alan will be around more.


Monday, April 21, 2008

Getting Ridiculous

I was pretty bad off yesterday. I didn't puke right away, which meant that I puked at 10 a.m. And then I had no appetite until really late at night. Alan was on my case because I don't eat any protien, but the idea of nuts products and meat just makes me gag. I don't think I could even eat a perfect steak right now.

Today, it's worse. I throw up and, of course, I'm having, um, other digestive issues. I can't eat anything, or even open the frig. I'm in my second trimester. I should be better by now. I was better, for a few days. I've been trying to go to work, but I keep puking or going to the bathroom. I'll be leaving soon, but I still haven't eaten.


Saturday, April 19, 2008

In The Old Days

I'm reading a book set in the late 1800s. ("Saints" by Orson Scott Card. I'm always interested in learning about various religions, and Card belongs to the Church of Latter Day Saints (also known as "Mormons") and writes fictional stories about Mormonism. I read nonfiction about various religions, too, but fiction is more fun sometimes.) Anyway, a mom in this book is cooking dinner and nursing a baby and watching a toddler...and I'm overwhelmed just reading it.

While I was reading, Alan made red beans and rice for Ander and himself for supper. (I have a current pregnancy aversion to beans, so I turned down his offer of dinner.) The beans are from a can. (Called Blue Runner Creole Cream Style Beans, they are precooked for hours in onions and sauce. And they are cooked about 5 miles from our house. Sometimes, you can smell them cooking. Hence, my current pregnancy aversion.) The rice was Minute Brown Rice, nuked for one minute in the microwave. He added a slice of cheese (it's a family thing down here) and supper was done. I made Julienne Potatoes from a box. With cooking and cleanup (including rinsing the bowl and putting it in the dishwasher), it took about five minutes.

But in the 1800's, julienne potatoes would have taken at least two hours, between boiling and peeling and making a cheese sauce over an open flame. And red beans and rice took ALL DAY up until my grandmother's time. Plus, the mom in this book, and most moms back then, had tons of children.

How did they do it? And how can I ever complain about having to spend 15 minutes a day picking up mess, or 5 minutes cooking?


He's So Much Like Us

Ander is really having fun imitating his parents.

Today, wearing only some running shorts and a diaper, he put on my shoes. (At least they were flats. He he.)

Then he picked up Daddy's briefcase and said, "I go to work."

"Where do you work, Ander."

"At the state capital." (That's where Alan works.)

"Well, have fun and make some money."

Pouts and points to Alan. "But daddy takes my money. Why you take my money, daddy?"



I Feel Bad For The Polygamy Moms

I feel horrible for the moms in Texas who have lost custody of the children. I'm not saying the state should not have taken the kids away. As a foster care attorney, I absolutely understand what the state did. And I'm not in favor of children getting married or of polygamy. But these moms grew up this way. They were subject to the same reasoning that the subjected their kids to. Imagine if you just followed your religion, and lost your kids for it!

I'm torn, because I definitely think these kids need to be safe. But I'm really sad for the moms, because you shouldn't lose your kids when all you did was what you truly believed was best for them.

It's a very sad situation.

It also made Alan start asking me a million questions about under what circumstances we could lose custody of Ander. And I know too much about the reasons, because of my job, and it made me nervous. I hope every state continues to take kids away who are in danger. But, yes, states ocassionally get it wrong. It's usually fixed pretty quickly, but how horrible that must be, even if it lasts only a couple of days.


Useless Dribble

I write about nothing. I've been rereading my blog entries, and while a few are thoughtful or compelling, none are particularly insightful, or rich, or academic. I think all sorts of big thoughts. I have strong opinions on politics and injustice. But what do I write about? Puking, pickles, and purses. P-words are very popular in my household right now. (Well, except for pee pee, which my toddler will not discuss. Not at all. He likes his diaper, and that is final, MOMMY! Sigh.)

I tend to shy away from way too political blogs. After all, I represent clients with varying politics. But the truth is, if a client asks my politics or a position on an issue, I'm not shy about telling them. And if it makes them not want to be my client, then we weren't a good match in the first place. You need to trust your lawyer, or you won't feel comfortable taking her advice, and I deal in advice (and long, complicated, detailed written documents and in arguments...but mostly advice).

Anyway, stay tuned for more useless dribble.

Oh, is back up. Totally worth visitiing that forum if you are a giftie. Let me know if you need help signing up.


Thursday, April 17, 2008

Well, That Was Fun

Ring. Bring. Ring.


"Hi, this is Susan calling to ask you to support Woody Jenkins in the upcoming election. Can we count on your support?"

(Woody is a very conservative Republican.)

"No, and you have a nice day."

"Well, you have a nice day, too. Bye bye."

Made me smile.


An Hour Each Morning

An hour - that's about how long it takes me to not feel totally yucky in the morning. And, in the case of this morning, how long before I throw up. It sucks. I'm at fifteen weeks on Friday. I'm feeling somewhat better when it's not morning, but I'm still not hungry and I'm still not gaining weight. And I'm so worried about money that I won't buy food out. That's fine if you aren't pregnant and can skip an occasional meal. It's okay if you can pack your lunch in the morning without it making you puke again. It's not a problem if you can eat something you packed the night before without gagging. But if none of those things are true, you are just screwed.

Because of this, I cannot seem to gain weight. Amazingly, eating an entire jar of pickles everyday does not pack on the pounds.

Plus, my son is virtually unchaperoned for an hour in the morning. I peek in on him. He peeks in on me. He answered when I call. But, usually, if I stand up, I puke. So I lay there, wide awake, miserable, and wondering if Ander is destroying himself or the house.

I *think* I've felt the baby move a few times now, but there was nothing I can be certain of.


Wednesday, April 16, 2008

350 Lawyers

NPR reported today that 350 family law attorneys in Texas have volunteered to represent the children taken away from the fundamentalist church compound in Texas. Good for them; lawyers should volunteer for good causes. And representing a child is a good cause.

But this scares me. I handle child in need of care cases. I am one of a small list of attorneys in Louisiana who stays approved by the State Supreme Court to represent children in those cases.

Child in need of care cases are NOT like other cases involving children. I'm a little worried that these kids, who are in a delicate position (probably mostly just wanting to go home to their families), will not get the best representation from these well-meaning, generous attorneys. Attorneys who are not experienced in child of need of care cases can mess things up pretty easily, no matter how dedicated they are. So it makes me nervous.

But, still proud of those attorneys.


My Shared Links

I don't know if any of you read my shared articles, but there's one from Brien's new blog. I'm too lazy to add a link, but I shared it, so there you are.

I am so crazy busy that I think I might go insane. Alan seems clueless, since he's so crazy busy that we never get to talk. But without help at work, and with Alan working late...I never stop!

I almost, but did not, throw up today.


Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Life Is Crazy

My day was insane. I paid bills for the office (since Rach B. is out), filed three sets of pleadings in some criminal cases, attended a hearing (a very sad one :( ), signed two loans (house and renewal of business line of credit) at a bank in Baton Rouge, visited Grandmother in the hospital with Ander, and am just getting home (around 5 p.m.). No call from Alan yet, so he must be working major overtime.

Ander was really good at the hospital. It helped that Grandmother is clearly feeling much better, so she gave him lots of attention. I was just planning to pop in for five minutes and let Grandmother see him for a bit, but he was so good and Grandmother was clearly enjoying the visit, so we stayed for an hour and a half. He used his whisper voice, talked to the nurses who came in, and was generally excellently behaved. I was amazed. It was like he knew it was important, in the hospital, to behave. At one point, he jumped on the couch. I started to say, "Ander, don't jump..." and he interrupted. "I sorry mommy. I need a timeout." He walked to the corner, took a deep breath, and then came out and said, "okay, Ander no jump now." It was adorable.

I am still puking. Puked this morning. Thinking about puking right now. (How would pb&j, chocolate milk, and pickles taste coming up? Yuck!)


Monday, April 14, 2008

It's All Good

Rach B. is out today and I had to take a trip to visit a potential witness in the seedy part of town. So I called my husband, just to let him know I was going to this part of town, and would call him when I got out of the area.

About 45 minutes later, I called him back at his office.

"It's all good. I'm done with my meeting."

"Um, okay. I, I,"

"It's your wife, honey. You know, the woman you love and were worried about while she was in the bad part of town.'

"Oh, yah. I was just trying so hard to place who would say 'it's all good.'"

Trew looove.


Handbags and Purses and totes, Oh My

I have a weekend tote, complete with diapers, preggie pops, and a smaller handbag inside of it for the cell, pda, and wallet. I grab just the inside bag for running in a coffee shop with a friend, but if Ander is with me, the whole bag comes inside (due to the diapers). But neither bag is really appropriate for work. And nothing I own is appropriate for a wedding, although usually, for formal occasions, I just hand Alan my id and cell phone for his pockets. I think that drives him crazy, though (not that he complains).

I just read an MSN article, though, that says a lady needs three bags - a casual weekend bag (essentially, what I am using now), a structured work bag, and a dressy bag. I'll skip dressy, but perhaps I'm looking crappy by not using my structured work bag? I own one; it's not like I have to go out and buy something. It's really nice. It's red patent leather and perfect for court and meetings. I'm just too lazy to transfer stuff (as easy as it is, since my small handbag could just transfer). Maybe I need to start so i look more professional.



I Thought This Was Over

But, then, even though I've been up for almost two hours and am in my second trimester (14 1/2 weeks), I puked. A lot. Yuck.

I think StacCole jinxed me in her last comment.


Keep Rachel B. In Your Thoughts

Shes' having a really tough week. Her daughter is getting a cast off, so she's stuck in town today. And she is started to swell a bit, as she is in her third trimester of pregnancy. But, most important, her MIL, who lives in Michigan, had a stroke and is in a coma.

Since she cannot fly, she's having to stay in town today and get her little girl's cast off, then do a marathon ride (swollen ankles and all) to Michigan.

Please keep her and her family in your prayers and thoughts.


Males Just Don't Get It

This is not a complaint post about my husband, because if any male gets it, he does. It's more a complaint that there is no way to explain how miserable pregnancy is.

Alan and I are both sick. He is clearly more sick. He didn't sleep well, he sniffled and sneezed, and his eyes are watery. He has a massive headache and general body aches. I have the same, but a much milder case.

Nonetheless, I am suffering as much, simply because I am pregnant. Every little cough (my own coughs and his) had me awake. And if you are pregnant and awake, you need to pee. After peeing, your belly is in the way and you cannot sleep, leaving you exhausted the whole next day. My fever last night made me dream of fires, because if you are pregnant, you have frighteningly real dreams. And my asthma...ow! It is so bad right now. That's pregnancy, too. When not pregnant, my asthma is truly only induced by exercise and cats.

People who haven't been pregnant just cannot understand all the problems that come along with pregnancy. And I can tell, that while women who haven't had kids yet are still sympathetic (probably because they are considering how it'll be for them), men look at you like you are lazy. (Specifically, male relatives.) I really think they think I am milking it.

So there I am, trying really hard to get a bit of oxygen, and there they are, being judgmental. Gotta love it, huh?


Sunday, April 13, 2008

A Whole Show About Food

The New Orleans radio station has a whole show about food. Not how to cook food. Not what food is healthy. Just about where to get a good po-boy, or sausage, or blackened soft shell crab. Damn, that show made me hungry.

In other news, Alan and I both have a cold. His is worse. But I'm pregnant, so I don't get to indulge in Dayquil, like he does. And my cold (or allergies, but I don't think I was around a cat) is causing asthma attacks, including in the middle of the night. It's pretty scary to wake up with an asthma attack.

My grandmother got rushed to the hospital yesterday. She's going to be fine, but will be there a couple/few days, so I went visit her this morning. And Hunter is having his First Communion tonight.


Saturday, April 12, 2008

Is It Just Because I'm Pregnant...

...that I have no patience with people these days.

Yesterday, the girl at Taco Bell was awful. She answered her cell while taking our order, gave us two cups instead of three, and when (after trying to get her attention for several minutes) I said, "M'aam, can I have my third cup?" she said, "well, you could have just asked. (Huh? I just did.) Then I got some burrito stuff instead of my meximelts. So I brought them back. Again, it took several minutes to get service, and then they took back the burritos, but forgot to make the meximelts. And while I was standing there for several minutes, trying to get their attention again to remind them that crazy pregnant woman needed something to put tons of hot sauce on...NOW...several people lined up with me, because the lady making the food forgot to put MEAT on everyone's food. Sigh.

Then, at Wal-mart today (why oh why would I ever go there), they were out of my pickles (the preggie craving for pickles was the only reason I even went there), they tried to charge me over $5 TWICE for $1 worth of potato wedges, and they were totally rude to me.

My husband says I'm stressed. But this stressed?

Oh, and we bought a car. At least the car salesmen (at Enterprise...go there...they are nice) were great.


Friday, April 11, 2008

High Expectations

I have high expectations for Ander's behavior. I recognize that I probably have higher expectations than most parents. Honestly, I've taken a lot of criticism for it. People are always telling me that I cannot expect Ander to do [fill in the blank with whatever]. Of course I can. Eventually, he learns to do whatever it is. But it is amazing how many people think it's their business to tell me how I shouldn't expect certain things of my son that I know he can do. Honestly, I think parents who make excuses for their kids or don't raise their expectations regularly are doing a disservice to their children. (Although, unlike the rude people who tell me I expect too much, I don't tell the parents that. It's not my business or my place to do so. :/)

I use a combination of positive reinforcement, natural consequences, and timeouts to get Ander to a point where he can meet my high expectations.

This morning was a great example. Ander was in the living room, watching tv and playing while I got ready for work. His cereal was in a bowl on the table.

I expect him to eat in the kitchen. I expect him to do so, whether I am supervising or not. After about five minutes of getting dressed, I popped into the living room to check on Ander.

"Mommy, I made mess." Mmmm...yes you did. "I clean up." And Ander marched to the bedroom, picked up the hand vac, and brought it to the living room. I turned it on, and he cleaned up his own mess.

"Mommy, Ander eat in the kitchen."

Um, yes. That's why we have that rule. We don't like cereal in the carpet. D'uh.

And now, we don't watch tv if we bring food in the living room. Just ask my son. He'll tell you all about it.

See how, instead of lowering my expectations (as in, "he just doesn't have the self-control to not bring food in the living room"), I raised them ("I can trust him to not bring food in the living room, and set up consequences such as cleaning it himself and losing tv privilege until it's cleaned up")? I wish more parents would think this way and raise expectations for their own children.

When I am queen of the universe, I think I'll make high expectations a rule. ;)


Little Things That Annoy Me

When you are using the bathroom at my house, your nose comes to almost exactly the same level as the door handle of my husband's clothes closet. (The closets are in the bathroom.) Every morning, my husband ALMOST closes his closet door. Almost, but not quite. Drives me insane as I close the door EVERY morning.

Sometimes, he takes a q-tip out of the q-tip container, and doesn't quite close the container. Ugh.

Sometimes, he throws away something heavy, like a diaper, in the bathroom trash. This act pulls the grocery bag lining the trashcan slightly out of the trashcan. He does not readjust the liner.

He leaves Ander's shoes on the kitchen island EVERYDAY, instead of having Ander return them to the bedroom.

Understand, he cleans the house. He does more housework than me, and more than any man I know. So these things should not drive me crazy. But they do. So there you are.


Thursday, April 10, 2008

I'm Miserable

Except for mild nausea, the morning sickness has passed. But I still am sleepy and have a backache and feel know, the usual. I never understand women who are blissfully happy during pregnancy. They can all go to...well, you know.



Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Imagine That

I googled myself. And I stumbled upon a blog I read all the time (but do not know the authors of) who mentioned me in their review:



Castrating Sex Offenders

Sigh. The Louisiana Legislature is considering this. I know they mean well. They hate sex offenders. Well, so do I. But the legislature is making a mistake. A huge one.

The reality of what is happening in the court system is that sex offenders are getting convicted of less serious crimes, because the punishments are already so harsh that judge's just cannot see how they fit the crime. By making the mandatory punishments even harsher, the legislature is inadvertantly making it less likely that a sex offender will get convicted of what he (and usually, it is a he) actually did.

I don't mind AVAILABLE harsher punishments. It's the mandatory harsher punishments that are resulting, if you look at reality, in sex offenders on the street.

Oh, and castrating has NOT been shown to decrease sex offenses. Do you know what does decrease the chance of reoffending? Keeping a sex offender locked up. Do you know what increases the chances of having a sex offender locked up? Permissive sentencing, not mandatory sentencing, which only encourages pleading to a less serious charge.

Just my two cents.


Bedside Manner

I know that, as an attorney, a lot of people come to me just because I contact them regularly and listen to them. I try to always do flawless, well-thought out legal work, but the bottom line is that good legal work doesn't get you referrals. Instead, excellent customer service gets you referrals. In short, an attorney's bedside manner, so to speak, matters more than their legal ability.

With doctors, I'm convinced that the same yardstick applies. Take, for example, something that happened to a friend yesterday. She tested positive for Strep B (as do about a 1/3 of pregnant women). It is treated by IV antibiotics immediately before delivery, and that almost always takes care of the problem. But when she asks what Strep B meant for her baby, the doctor said, "it could die."

HELLO! Horrible bedside manner, I would say. :( That doctor should lose his license.

Yes, a baby can die from Strep B. But...only 1/4,000 babies will contract Strep B from mom's who get the appropriate antibiotic during labor (which a mom with a positive test WILL get). Of that 1/4,000, most will live. In fact, only 2,000 babies a year die of this, and MOST of those are born from women who do not get the antibiotic during delivery.

Children can also die from the flu, chicken pox, reactions to otherwise live-saving vaccines, get my point. Can a child die from Strep B? Yes, of course they can. Will her child die from Strep B? He is much more likely to die in a car accident. So, no, he won't.

The doctor should have explained this, at least a little.

Clients call me all the time because they want to not follow a court order. For example, the judge mandates when the child is two that dad gets reasonable visitation. For 8 years, dad is an alcoholic who never once visits the kids. Suddenly, the kid is 10 and dad stops by to pick the kid up. Dad is drunk at the time. Is any sane attorney going to say, "yes, put your kid in the drunk's car?" Of course not. So won't the "good" parent be in contempt and couldn't the "good" parent go to jail?

The simple answer...the judge could put you in jail indefinitely, until you are willing to comply with the order.

The more RESPONSIBLE, realistic answer...yes, jail is a possibility. But it is unlikely, and you need to consider your child's safety first and foremost.

Now, please do NOT take this as legal advice. Call your lawyer for legal advice. But understand, I would consider it malpractice if I simply told a client, "yes, you can go to jail" without further explanation. And that is most less horrible than "yes, your child could die." Bedside manner, people. It's important.


I Look Hot

Okay, maybe not hot, what with the pregnant tummy and all. But hotter than I have in a long time. It's the black pants.

Yep, I got some miracle pants. Rachel B. gave me some maternity clothes. I fit none of it, due to excessive chestage. Except, of course, for the skinny legged black pants. They're not too skinny (so they emphasis my new, smaller sized legs without looking tight). They are ssssoooooo comfy. And they emphasis my belly, so I actually look very pregnant. As in, pregnant instead of fat. LOL.

Liking the pants.

Know what's pretty cool? When an NFL coach is calling around to talk to you about one of your clients. Pretty cool. Word is, though, that the same coach tried really hard with LSU's "maybe" quarterback and hasn't been that successful in getting him to stay out of trouble, now has he? But it's still nice that he cares about kids.


Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Know What Sucks

Thinking morning sickness is gone, only to have it back with a vengence! I puked/dry-heaved over the toilet for so long this morning that I didn't even have time to shower before going to court. I feel extremely yucky. I've been at work since 9 a.m., and while I've gotten tons done, I am about to go to my mom's house and lie down. I have a headache (I've been getting those when the morning sickness hits lately) and it's gotten really bad as the afternoon wears on. It probably doesn't help that I worked straight through lunch.

I'm at 13 (almost 14) weeks. This crap has to end!


Monday, April 7, 2008


I still want pickle. Just FYI. Lots of pickle. Darn hormones. With Ander, I craved carrots. Apparently, I only crave things without calories.

Oh, and Paca, thanks for the tone deafness infomation. I always insist I'm not tone deaf and that I sing really well, but no one else seems to agree. :/ Perhaps, one day, I'll do a You Tube karaoke so all can judge! (Or press mute or mock. Whatever.)

My sister called. She's already reserved her names of choice. This time, she called to reserve her godparents of choice. Calling dibs when I'm due first? So unjust. Luckily, I wanted neither her names nor her godparents, so it worked out smoothly. :)

I like watching Jon and Kate Plus 8. Alan and I are sooooo much like that.

Oh, and we finally cleaned off the kitchen table. It still had all Ander's gifts from his birthday (yep, over a month ago) and Easter! Boy, do we ever have a lot of Easter candy!

Off to have another pickle.


Will Someone Please Tell My Husband...

...that there is nothing wrong with eating a jar of pickles everyday?



I Don't Need Music

I was driving to my house on Saturday afternoon, after hanging out with Rachel and Zoe. As is the usual case for me, I did NOT have the radio on. I also don't have art on my walls. Honestly, I've never been into music or art. Oh, there's the ocassional song or singer that I like. But I would never purposely put on their CD. I've never learned to download to an IPOD. When I work out, I don't wear headphones. And while I sometimes see art on other peoples' walls and think, "how cool," it not worth the bother to put any on my wall.

So what's with me? What kind of intelligent person ignores music and art?

I just think I don't need it. I assume it fills some space in others' thoughts. U2 plays in the background, and other people get a chemical reaction. I, maybe, if it's exactly the right song, might have a memory associated with it. But few songs evoke feelings. Art doesn't evoke feelings. I think, maybe, I'm wired differently.


Saturday, April 5, 2008

Sleepless Night

Jake visited until 11 p.m. (for a Battlestar Galactica marathon), so we tucked in late anyway. Then it started storming. And wouldn't stop.

I was up all night to the sounds of the wind blowing, thunder clashing, and Alan snoring. This morning, I feel like I didn't sleep all night.


Friday, April 4, 2008

Something Must Be Wrong

Sometime has to be wrong. After all, it's lunchtime and I've only peed 5 times so far. That's far below my current how-can-a-baby-that's-smaller-than-a-lemon-press-so-damn-hard-on-my-bladder average.

Have I mentioned that I am existing on a diet of pickles and chocolate milk. Yummy going in...and then not so yummy.

Well, off to lunch.


It's Not "Just" A Dream

I was watching the Today Show, and I almost cried. (Okay, I'm pregnant and hormonal, and that's probably 90% of it. And, no, The New Kids were not performing yet. ;)) They were interviewing Dr. King's kids. Apparently, today is the 40th anniversary of his shooting. And that got me thinking.

Thinking about all the people I wouldn't be friends with, wouldn't work with, and wouldn't know...if segregation was still in effect. There are so many people who have touched my life, in part because of Dr. King's work. I thought of not having those people in my life and it made me sad. Everyone talks about what Dr. King did for minorities. But Dr. King did something special for me, a white girl from the South. I hoep people don't forget that part of his legacy.


Thursday, April 3, 2008

It's Only 9:16 a.m., Right?

Things just can't go easy, can they? Waking up was fine and getting ready for work was fine...well, except that Ander insisted he get in the bathtub with me and when I refused he plunged both -thick-pj-clad hands into the water, leaving his arms a dripping mess.

But it was changing him that was a horror. He just refuses to let me change his diaper now until after he has a timeout. And, of course, I refuse to just say timeout. I follow the mantra that timeouts must be proceeded by a warning. So changing a diaper (and clothes, in the morning...and drippy, wet clothes, in this particular case) means a ten minute struggle.

"Ander, time to put on your cool orange shirt for Maw Maw's house. Come on, Ander, jump up on that changing table. Ander, do not kick mommy's tummy. That hurts. If you kick mommy's tummy again, you'll go in timeout. Timeout because you hurt mommy. Now stay here for two minutes. Are you sorry? Okay, let's change you." At this point, he fully cooperates. So the timeout is effective. Except that he doesn't cooperate at all UNTIL AFTER the timeout, no matter how fun and inticing I make the activity sound.

Then I had to take my blood sugar. It was a bit high, considering I had few carbs last night. (I didn't love the Bonefish Grill, just FYI.) But my dietician sister says it's still in the normal range and nothing to worry about.

Finally, I got to my mom's. But the bank down the street closed, so she had to use my car to go to the bank. So, finally, at almost 9:30 a.m., I off to the kiddie jail (to interview a client), then the office (to sign a pile of pleadings), and then, this afternoon, to a meeting in LaPlace (for another juvenile client). Sigh. It's going to be an interesting day, but it's hard being already behind before 10 a.m.


Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Off My Drugs

For the first time in recent memory, I am off metformin (also called glucophage). My doc kept me on throughout my first trimester, to make miscarriage less likely, but has decided that if I need something to control my blood sugars, there are other things he'd rather give me. Especially since metformin can upset the tummy and I'm still dealiing with the colitis.

It's so weird. All I take now is blood pressure meds and Flintstones.

Sure, I have to check my blood sugars, and that SEE-YUCKS, but no drugs!


My Subway Sandwich

A shout out to Paca for posting something that, I swear, I was planning to post this week, because I had a foot long sub and it was yummy and I never eat the whole foot long but I'm pregnant and hungry, darnit.

How I Like My Subway:

6 inch (usually ;)) steak (the old, yummy steak...but I deal with the new, chewy, not good steak) on wheat
No cheese
Double tomatoes
A bit of onion
A drizzle (very light) of oil
Lots of vinegar
Sometimes a drizzle of ranch (but no oil then)
Pickles (that I have added last and pick off and eat ON THE SIDE)

What's your sub?

I Never Go To Work

Yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment. Because those appointments are unpredictable (as the doctor often ends up leaving to deliver babies and they just ask you to come back later in the day), I planned to work in Baton Rouge.

So I had my appointment, and sure enough, it was time for lunch by the time I got out of the 9 a.m. appointment. I had lunch with my sister, and then went to Highland Coffees to work. I got some work done, but not as much as I planned to, in part because I had lots of follow-up calls to do from my doctor's appointment (call another doc as a specialist and call the insurance, a 30 minute call once you get through the "Press 1 to shot your head off" routine) and in part because I am too stupid to log onto their wi fi and it took me a long time to figure it out. I depend on e-mail to send projects to the office and the internet to do legal research, so it's important to have access. (Have I mentioned that the Gonzales Starbucks does NOT have wi fi. Freaks that make me angry.)

Then, I still had a hour long commute to pick Ander up from childcare. So I got a lot less done than I planned.

At least, today, ONCE I DROP THE CAR OFF AT THE REPAIR PLACE AND WALK BACK HOME WITH A TWO YEAR OLD (I'm great, very calm...thanks for asking)...I should finally get some work done. So much for getting ahead on Monday. Sigh.


Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Happy April Fool's Day

So my dad played a great April Fool's joke on my BIL. He he.

He called him and said, "I'm going to be a grandpa, again." All the while, my mom shouted in the background, "it's not good news."

BIL was confused. See, I'm pregnant, and BIL's wife is pregnant, and other married sister cannot have children - for sure, so that only leaves unmarried sister. "No, I'm calling Sunny and asking her."

So BIL did.

Sunny told him "Happy April Fools Day!" Ha ha ha. He totally believed that Sunny (currently single, BTW) was knocked up! :)


Heart Rate 162

The baby's heart rate seems to always be 162. It's amazing that it is so consistent. The doctor says I'm doing fine. I've gained two pounds through the entire first trimester, which is about right. (Honestly, I lost about five and gained back around 7, and most of the gain was in the last week, but shhh...there's no need for the doctor to know that.)

I do have to start testing my blood sugar once a week. Four pricks a day. (I wonder how many pervs will hit my site because I used the word "pricks.") That sucks. He says he doesn't expect me to show signs of gestational diabetes before 20 weeks, but given my history and my insulin resistance, it's better to catch it early. He set a guideline of 90/120. Basically, my fasting blood sugar has to stay below 90, and one hour after eating, it should be below 120, or I get a diagnosis and special eating plan. Sigh.

I'm working at Highland Coffees today, and can I tell you that their wi fi took me an hour to connect to. Then, magically, it just connected. Go figure.