Midnight toker

My co-workers and I love sharing cites to obscure state trial court decisions that contain things we find funny.  Sometimes its a well-deserved benchslap; sometimes its poetry (yes, literally -- we have some zany judges in my state), sometimes its just a case with great facts.  One of my co-workers sent me a case in which the plaintiff alleged damages arising out of the plaintiff "negligently" adding marijuana to some cake batter, baking it and serving it to the defendant.  The following g-chat conversation ensued.

Co-worker: [Other co-worker] says this will be moot in 5 months because [our state] is legalizing weed. The rest of us are highly suspicious of his statement.

Me: No I heard about this -- They're considering legalizing possession of up to an ounce.

Co-worker: hmmm I had no idea

Me: Dunno if it will make it out of committee but the bill is generating some buzz, if you'll pardon the pun.

I crack myself up.

Facebook Friends

Thinking tonight about my friends.  And Facebook.

None of my childhood friends have remained friends for life.  There are a few people from that time who are Facebook friends. They're the "I accepted your friend request because when I saw your name I was suddenly curious about how you turned out, but now that I know that, I'd love for you to fade back into the obscurity of the past, thanks, and would prefer not to see your political rantings on my feed" friends.  If de-friending wasn't such a "big deal," I'd probably have defriended them forever ago.  As it is, I've hidden more than a few feeds.

(As an aside, there should be a term for these people. Suggestions?) 
 
One high school friend has remained a friend for life.  She and her partner are going through an icky separation. She has two kids and lives about 100 miles away.  We see each other a few times a year -- probably would be more often if not for the icky separation thing.  She's the person I identify as my "best friend" in the "known her forever, she knows a lot of the worst about me and still loves me, I trust her with my children, she's like a sister" sense.  Of course, she's not on Facebook.  Her partner is. Partner's "she's not my girlfriend, I just fuck her, but I don't see why that means I can't still live at home and raise the kids" posts on Partner's wall a lot.  Awkward sauce.

Nearly all of the other high school girls with whom I am FB friends fall into the same category as the childhood friends above.  (Really do need a term.) 

I only made a few friends in college, but I really loved them.  Then shit happened, like shit does in college, and we all stopped being friends.  And now we're grown ups with kids and mortgages and have all eventually become FB friends... and though we all live within 100 miles of eachother, that's probably going to be the extent of it.  But at least when I see their wall postings, I don't hide them like I do with the [need a term] friends.

I lost track of the one friend I made my first year teaching.  I know he's married and has a son and is still teaching in the same school.  But he's not on FB, so we've lost touch.  I have two friends from my years teaching in Texas that, but for FB, might have met the same fate.  I would be sad if that were true.  My life is richer with them in it, even if only through the occasional online interaction. 

There were maybe five girls I considered to be friends in law school.  One moved far away (but is a pretty good FB friend), two are very caught up in life and career and never return calls or post on FB (I still reach out every few months, but I also don't need an anvil to the head to get the hint), and two I still see fairly regularly.  I also made one good friend in my first post-law school job whom I still see regularly.  The remainder of my law school classmate friends on FB are probably more "professional social networking" friends -- good to know to what they're up to, make introductions if another friend needs something, etc., but we're probably not gonna polish off a bottle of wine over boardgames any time soon.

We have two "couple" friends -- couple in which either I am friends with the wife or Bullshark is friends with the husband and we all hang out with our kids, who are of similar enough age.  FB is where we share pictures.

Then there are my FB friends whom I've never met, and with whom I only interact online.  They're probably my favorite FB friends.  We have similar interests, cute kids, and snarky commentary on eachother's posts.  Ya'll know who you are. You're the only ones who know about Butterflyfish, after all.  Other than the randomness of my wonderful Irish relatives and the few far-away friends I've mentioned, they're probably the only reason I stay on FB. 

Incompetence Redux

At least my son made it past his second birthday before I cut him while cutting his nails and caused him to cry.*

Took a chunk off Angelfish's fingertip.  Lots of blood.  Loudest, hardest crying she's ever done.  Boo boo bunny (fuzzy bunny ice pack) doesn't work when you're an infant and aren't distracted by bunny ears.
 
I am so, so sorry Angelfish.


* Ok, so not the first time I did it to him. But the first memorable time. Also, I didn't have a blog when Clownfish was an infant.

The rapture made me miss the truly terrifying part of this story

On Sunday afternoon, I ran an errand and came home and fed Angelfish. Meanwhile, the boys were in the back yard planting our vegetable garden.  Clownfish came in while I was feeding the baby and asked me to come out and see their handiwork.  I agreed to stop out when I was done. 

A little while later, around 3:00, I went outside.  No Bullshark. No Clownfish.  The cars were all present and accounted for, Bullshark's cell phone and wallet were inside and Clownfish's bicycle was in the garage.  Hmm, I thought, maybe they went for a walk?

Around 4:00 I tweeted that I still hadn't seen them.  Several folks suggested that the rapture had come a little late, and that I was left behind.  This made little sense because the baby was still here and there was no sign of smoking clothing.  Of course, a friend explained, the Angelfish was probably plotting murder at all times. Evil baby. Explained a lot.

Except, you know, where the f**k the boys really were.

I began to worry.  I checked with my neighbors on either side.  No sign of them.  I left a note on our front door, in case they returned, and drove around the neighborhood, as far over as the park, and around all the streets that they might walk.  Asked a few folks who were out mowing lawns, etc.  No sign of them.  I rang the bell of the elderly neighbors who live behind us.  No answer, but their car was in the driveway.  I waited to no avail and then returned home.  The whole while I felt foolish, especially when I approached people. 

"Excuse me, but I seem to have misplaced my family...."


I waited some more.  Then, before I gave into my paranoid delusions and called 911 reporting rapture-related disappearances, I decided to approach the elderly neighbors' house from the back door.  And there I found my boys.  They had stopped over to contribute some excess zucchini plants to the neighors' vegetable garden when they were shanghaied into touring their basement to see the old man's homemade puppets.* 

I understood perfectly why my husband was unable to escape for two hours, and why he was unable to even call, when the old man insisted on giving me the tour.  He studiously ignored the fact that Angelfish was cranky and that it was dinnertime.  I managed to convince him I had to leave after 20 minutes or so.**

Anyway, my family wasn't raptured.***     


* This is, upon retelling, the point where the story gets truly terrifying.  Me, I was so relieved to see the boys, it did not occur to me to worry that, as one of my co-workers suggested, the puppets may be made from, say, the skins of his victims. 
** He's a nice, lonely old man with lots of talent. We promised to come back and see the full tour of the wooden trains and painted stone people that he made on another day.
*** As Catholics, we didn't expect to be.

MILP #204

Ptlawmom had it.  Here in two weeks.

Feeling mostly better

Angelfish picked a good time to start sleeping in 4-5 hour stretches at night.

Familiar

I'm feeling like my old self. 

Meaning...

I feel like a ball of rage ready to lash out at anyone at the slightest provocation. I feel easily overwhelmed and want to cry at the slightest set back.  I have a barely controllable urge to scream. I am overcome with worry and jealousy and sadness.  Guilt? Don't even get me started. I want sooo much to wallow in misery and pints of ice cream and high fat food.

In other words, I think the post-postpartum is kicking in.  With Clownfish, it was right around six months.  He started eating solid food, I was nursing less regularly, and my period returned.  I packed on a ton of weight and was miserable for a long while before I knew what was happening. 

I guess this time, since my pumping schedule is all f**ked up because of work and I'm supplementing with formula, it is kicking in sooner.  F**king hormones.

This time I am aware. I am doing my best to stay strong in the face of ridiculous efforts to sabotage my weight loss progress. I am trying to manage my expectations.  I am trying to get fresh air and sleep.

I see the black hole. It is looming, but it is in the distance. It threatens to swallow me, but only if I don't keep an eye on it, keep it at bay. 

So far, so good.

MILP #203: Two words

The Weekly MILP (Moms In the Legal Profession) Roundup is hosted on a rotating basis between PT-LawMom, Butterflyfish, and Attorney Work Product blogs. We originally rounded up just the moms in law school, but then discovered that those women eventually graduate. Who knew? So now all the moms in the legal field (heh) are represented. We aim for Sunday posts.

Attempting to round up using two words (and only two words) to describe each post while drinking pinot noir. Let's see how this goes...

• Izzie: travel nightmare. 
• E.H.: client buddies. 
• Googiebaba: getting dirty.
•  WNW Litigator: missing home. 
• -R- : defying blog-ventions
• Lag Liv:  congrats JP!
• Magic Cookie: nudity rules.
•  Suzie: Biglaw career. 
• Cowgirl: pretty thin-spiration. 
• Proto Atty: justifiable pissiness. 
• LEO: controlling & unglamorous. 
• Certifiable: medical issues.

FYI:  For those who know the link and password from back in the day, etc. PBB is back to blogging.

__________________________________________________________
If you’d like to have your blog added to the MILP blogroll for weekly review or would like us to consider a specific post, drop the hostess(es) an email or leave a comment at any of our sites.  Expecting moms in law school and attorneys are welcome. 

Up and down

Most of these have been lifted from my twitter account and basically amount to an enhanced version of the occasional blog feature "what you're missing."
 

• The donuts and bagels and munchkins were in my house for three days.  I didn't eat any. Victory is mine.
• Angelfish's 4 month well-baby check up: 16 pounds, 25 inches. Love chubby fat rolls on her legs! 
• Not so 'well baby,' however.  Ear infection, penicillin and nebulizer treatments for an ongoing wheeze/cough problem.  No fever, though.
• Coworker told me that I'm looking "slender" lately. He followed it with "umm, I never know if its ok to compliment...."  Dude, rest assured:  IT IS OK!!!
• This job called today.  I didn't get it.
• Angelfish has developed the cutest little giggle. She also coos and sounds like I remember mogwai sounding. Not the band. The Gizmo.
• The couch to 5k has not actually started yet. Monday I blogged about, Tuesday I had to go to a local zoning board meeting, Wednesday and Thursday and today ... umm, something something.  
• Plan to go for a hike in a local park with the kids this weekend, provided the weather holds.
• Someone offered me a whopping three figures to post an advertisement on my blog for a year. Part of me thinks, cool, money.  We could use money.  Part of me would hate to break my 'no ads' tradition.
• I'm gonna buy some new sneakers for me this weekend. Have to buy some for Clownfish anyway, and mine are probably older than he is. Its not like I've ever run in them so....

Sabotage

My mom has been thinner than me pretty much since I started packing on the pounds in high school.  She might have weighed more than me then -- she has huge boobs and is taller -- but she wore a smaller size pant.  There have been a few times we've been the same size, but never in my memory have I been smaller.

My mom has been out of work for a year. She's been seriously depressed. She packed on some weight.  I've lost some.  I am now smaller by at least a few sizes. She comments on it. A lot. For a while she was convinced we had discovered some diet pill we weren't sharing.  No, we've just cut way back on our personal carb/processed food intake and really upped the veggies.  Does wonders.

My mom aggressively feeds.  Very aggressively.  Its like a hostile form of love, impossible to reject because of the "good intention" behind it. When I was last at her house (about a month ago), I felt sick because she put so much in front of me and I reverted to my teenage years and ate it.

She can do that shit on her own territory, but in my house, I'm in control.  I control what's in my house.  In my mind, a sleeve of Oreos constitutes an appropriate serving size. So we don't keep the things in the house. (Ok, we have single serve bags sometimes for Clownfish's lunch box, but for some reason I can avoid that temptation -- probably because it is clearly for my son and not for 'the family'.)

Mom came to Clownfish's baseball game last night.  She kept commenting on how much weight Bullshark and I have lost.  Then, instead of driving home behind us after the game, she drove to Dunkin Donuts.  She bought six bagels ("but they're whole wheat so they're healthy") 25 munchkins ("they're for Clownfish because he did such a good job at his game, you'll let him have a treat won't you?") and six glazed donuts, my own personal pastry weakness ("well, one won't kill you... or just leave them for Clownfish.") 

Right, cuz having them in the house isn't sabotage.  Being strong in the face of temptation is not a personal quality I possess, but this time I'm mad.

I am now blogging because I am staring at the donut box. She's not awake yet, but when she wakes, I imagine she's going to very aggressively try to get me to eat one. 

Not gonna happen. Nor will I "compromise" and "just" have a bagel.

Just. No. 

Not excuses, just reasons

I leave the house with the kids starting at 7 a.m.
I got home at 5 p.m.
Baseball game started at 5:45, had to be there at 5:30.
Game ran til 8:00. (WTF COACH???!!!)
Still haven't had dinner.
It is now 8:30.
I guess I'm starting the coach-to-5k tomorrow?

MILP #202

Proto had it.  I got it next week.

New venture

I plan to run a 5k in August.  I have never run that distance in my life.  Not even in high school. I have really never run anywhere, period.  I think the last time I voluntarily ran at all was when I played pee wee league soccer.  I figure you people can keep me accountable.  I walked a bit today (about a mile) to start and jogged maybe .25 miles in spurts.  Between my asthma and couch spud ways, its gonna be a battle.

Apostrophes and other punctuation

Apostrophe.

Clownfish is learning about the apostrophe. He can work contractions fine, but he thought that an apostrophe must precede an -s- whenever -s- is the last letter, regardless of whether it was a possessive or a plural. I drew him some pictures, so now he knows the difference between "my cat's yarn rolled away" and "my cats have yarn."  He is now officially smarter than more than half of the people on the internet.  First grade is tougher than I remember.

Exclamation mark.

Angelfish was baptized on Sunday.  My brother was the godfather. He lives 5 miles from my parents. My parents live 90 miles from me.  My parents (1) hate to drive together (2) only have one working car that has far too many miles on it (3) have difficulty driving home after family functions because can't agree which one has to stay sober and (4) my mom would have to make the trip twice in 48 hours because she comes up and helps take care of Angelfish each week.  Ergo, I asked my brother to promise me that he would drive my parents to the baptism.  He so promised, weeks ago.

The night before, he called me, crying. Apparently, he had called my mom and my sister and said that since he "had plans" Sunday night, he decided not to drive my parents so he could leave the baptism early.  You know, the baptism where he's the godfather.  My mom blew up at him.  My sister blew up at him.  And he proceeded to say some really inflammatory things hoping I would blow up at him (i.e.: "I'm not the one who had kids and moved 90 miles away" "Yes, I know they're getting older, but why is that *my* responsibility?" "What? Like you've never double-booked yourself? Yeah, I found out about [other event] a few hours ago... how is that relevant?")  Long story, short:  my parents drove themselves, my brother is an asshole and I'm using backup childcare this week.

Ellipses.

My interview went really well.  At least, I left thinking it went well.  Now I am rethinking everything I did and said and hating myself.  I really wish I was not so self critical and anxious.

Colon, en-dash, right parentheses

I am home with Angelfish today.  Smelling her sweet head is the best aromatherapy.

MILP #201

Ptlawmom had it.