Hello to You

Hello.

I know who you are (kind of).  I have been spying on you via Google Analytics.

There are approximately 2000 of you.  Ninety five percent of you live in the United States, with the remainder coming from Australia, the UK, Canada, United Arab Emirates, Japan, Singapore, Russia, France, New Zealand, Israel, the Netherlands, Italy, Qatar, Switzerland, Spain, and the Philippines.  In the U.S., the majority of you come from New York, DC, Maryland, California, Illinois, Texas, and Ohio.

Hello!

I even know where some of you work.  Google Analytics lists the service providers of people who visit the site.  So a shout out to Gibson Dunn and Columbia University for all the visitors.  I even have a lone visitor from the Executive Office of the President.  I like to think it's Obama killing some time.

Reminder

The next time I decide to stay up past midnight drinking wine with my best friend from London, please remind me of the following:

1) I am no longer in my twenties, and can't hack it like I used to.
2) There is no "sleep" button for my daily 7am wake up call. 
3) I have two children, who are going to have a ridiculous amount of energy despite a hangover.  And they have to be fed.  And supervised. 
4) Advil can only do so much.  Only so much.
5) I will not be able to return to bed until 8pm this evening, which is a long, long time away.

That's all.

Rude Awakening

Ahhh, we had a good run - a good month with no illnesses.  But I knew I was due.  It couldn't last.  Sure enough, this morning, around 6am, Braden woke up crying and screaming for mommy.  Here we go again.

A quick trip to our pediatrician's morning walk in appointments confirmed an ear infection.  AGAIN!  I swear, this kid has more ear infections than he has colds.  No fever so far, so God, hear my prayer:  please, please, please, let him remain fever free so I can send him to school tomorrow.

This is part of parenthood nobody mentions before you have kids.  Or maybe they do, but you just don't pay attention.  So, if anyone is reading that doesn't have kids yet, listen here (and pay attention):  Kids get sick ALL THE TIME.  And a sick kid = no sleep, no playdates, no public places (it's bad karma), no eating or drinking (and thus a constant exercise of force feeding), and a constant, constant whining.  Then, 10 days later when your kid finally kicks the thing, you get it too, only you can't afford to rest or be sick, so you just deal with it.  And then your other kid gets it, and the whole process starts all over again.

The Rundown

Want to know why I'm in such a good mood today?

1) It's Friday.
2) It's sunny.
3) I'm not at work.
4) Slight hangover this morning was well worth the extra glass of wine I had last night meeting up with an old friend.
5) I was able to stay in bed for an extra half hour this morning with slight hangover, since Braden agreed to watch Yo Gabba Gabba in my bed instead of the living room.
6) It was one of my favorite Yo Gabba Gabba episodes ("Eat," with guest star Elijah Wood).
7) Braden kissed Casey on the head this morning, and actually looked at him once.
8) Casey took an hour and a half morning nap, allowing me to return to bed and watch last night's Real Housewives of New York episode, which was excellent.  Just excellent.
9) Casey is the best baby ever.
10) I had 3 leftover empanadas at 10:30am this morning, made from scratch by my neighbor.
11) I am having a night out with the girls tonight for my friend's birthday. 
12) As of today, I have made $18.14 cents off of this blog - enough to get at least two margaritas for night out with the girls.
13) My sister and her boyfriend are coming in from New York to visit, and will be arriving just in time to drive me home from night out with the girls.
14) My husband has been home early (aka, before 7pm) every night this week.  Thank you to my husband's law firm!
15) We are officially using part of my husband's "spring bonus" money to redo our patio.  Thank you to my husband's law firm!
16) We purchased tickets to the Beer, Bourbon and Barbecue Festival, coming to DC on June 17.  Oh yeah.
17) We're going to the pool tomorrow (the fact that I am horrified at myself in a bathing suit does not negate the fact that I am elated that it is finally pool weather).
18) My best friend from London will be staying with me all next week, and he doesn't even care that he has to hang out with a bunch of kids and structure his day around nap times.
19) Both kids are currently napping.
20) When they wake up, I'll get to hang out with two adorable, amazing, hysterical, smart, precious boys all afternoon.

That's why.  

Happy weekend, everyone!

Postcards from the Midwest

When I was a corporate lawyer, I used to really stress over asking for days off.  I felt that it would be viewed as weakness or a lack of commitment.  This was probably due to my own paranoia, as well as an unspoken reality, confirmed by the occasional comment by an associate or partner bragging about the fact that "it has been months since I have had a day off."

Needless to say, a major perk of me leaving my job is not having to ask for vacation time.  I have only my husband and kids to answer to, and they are generally more accommodating than your typical law firm partner.  Which means I can start to catch up on trips that I've been meaning to take for a while.  First stop on the post-lawyer tour?  Kentucky and Ohio.  Not the most luxurious for sure, but for me, a kind of coming home. I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, and lived there for nine years before I moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, where I graduated high school.  I have not been to Louisville since 1990, and since my parents have moved, I only make it to Cincinnati every couple of years.

I came up with the grand idea to combine both destinations and do a "finding my roots" kind of trip.  Maybe it's because I have left my career and am trying to turn over a new leaf.  Maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis of sorts.  Or maybe I was just inspired by that Miranda Lambert song.   Regardless, the decision was made to take the trip, take Braden with me, and make stops in Louisville, Lexington, and Cincinnati.  And, since you are on the edge of your seat, here is a brief play-by-play of my homecoming:

Betty

When Braden was four months old and we were interviewing nannies, I have to admit that I didn't really feel comfortable with any of them.  The nanny we hired was certainly adequate, and I have no doubt she took care of Braden.  But something just never sat well with me.  Part of it is probably that I am a control freak.  But the other part is that she had huge shoes to fill.

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, and spent the first nine years of my life there.  Both of my parents worked, so for as long as I can remember, we had a nanny.  I have vague recollections of a few nannies when I was very young, but when I was around five years old, we hired Betty.

Betty is as down home Kentucky as you can get.  She grew up on a farm with nine siblings, of which she was the youngest.  She never went beyond 8th grade in school, and she has only been to a handful of states in her life - never via plane.  She lives in a very small railroad apartment near the Louisville airport, and prior to coming to work for my parents, she cleaned houses and was working at minimum wage.  Yet as a child, I looked up to her more than anyone.

The Last Supper

(Disclaimer: So far, a lot of my posts have been about the juxtaposition of a law career and motherhood.  This one is pure, raw motherhood.  So to all the male, childless attorneys out there reading, my apologies in advance if this post just isn't your thing.) 

After 6 and a half months, my son, Casey, is officially weaned.  We have brought out the bottles, and a new era begins.  I am heartbroken.

I never thought I would be the type who would fall in love with breastfeeding.  I've always been a new age hippy wannabe, but I never quite get there.  When I was pregnant, I took a natural birthing class in the hopes of giving birth drug free.  I didn't labor long before I begged (okay, screamed)  for an epidural.  I will only buy organic fruits and vegetables, and I make my own baby food, yet I take my son to McDonalds once a week.  I go on yoga and meditation kicks, but I am probably one of the more high strung people you will meet.

So when it came to breastfeeding, before Braden (my first son) was born I had a similar half hearted dedication.  My goal was to make it to six weeks.  I felt good about this target, as it meant Braden would get all the antibodies and benefits early on, and then it wouldn't be too long before my husband could share in the feeding and nighttime duties.  And anyway, I have low bone density, so I was advised by my doctor to only breastfeed for six months max.  I purchased all the related breastfeeding gear - ointments, pads, pump - but expected to shelf it in relatively short order after my son was born.

And then Braden came.  The labor was long, but otherwise uncomplicated, and the first time I looked at him was the most amazing moment of my life.  It was such an out of body experience - this baby came out of me?!?!?  A real life person?  My husband and I both cried.  And within moments, he was wrapped in a blanket, on my chest, and breastfeeding.  The moment had been so overwhelming that I almost didn't notice I was feeding him.  It was just so natural - just the way it was supposed to be.  Braden was not inside me anymore, but we were still so intertwined and connected.  From that moment, I was hooked.

Enjoy

Ah, Mother's Day.  A Hallmark holiday gone way too mainstream.  But, hey, I'll jump on the bandwagon.

My husband asked me how I wanted to spend the day.  I thought about it for a while, and the truth is, I want to spend the day ALONE!

Alone, alone, alone.

I've really never been the loner type.  I'll see a movie by myself every now and again (because my husband hates movies), and I'm not one of those people that feels uncomfortable sitting at a bar eating a meal by myself.  But all else equal, I'm all for companionship.  

But being a stay at home mom, alone time is very, very hard to come by.  Time that is truly just mine, without the threat of interruption. Strangely, one of the things I miss most about working is the commute!  Being able to be in a car by myself, listen to music at whatever volume, and just collect my thoughts.  Things that were once so routine are now such a novelty.

So today, I am staying in bed until 9 or so and enjoying a cup of coffee.  I'll hang with the family for the rest of the morning, accompany my son to soccer (yes, soccer for 2.5 year olds), and then take a few hours to do whatever I want, all on my own.  Maybe I'll go shopping.  Or driving.  Or just hang out at Barnes & Noble.  Whatever I do, you can be sure I'll be missing my boys, but relishing a bit of the day just for me.  

So here's to all the hard working moms out there.  I hope you all get to spend the day exactly as you want, whatever that may be!

Sunny Days

Since starting his blog, I have detailed some of the difficulties of staying at home and the internal conflicts involved in leaving a career.  But I haven't really discussed the perks.  

One of the major perks of my new "career" - the hours of 9-10:30am.  This is when my older son is at school, and my younger son is napping. 

You know that feeling you have when your alarm goes off, and all you want to do is stay in bed in your pajamas and relax for a few more hours?  Well, I have that!  For now at least.  Though I am up with both boys at around 7am, I don't mind at all because I know my bed awaits my return.  And when I put Casey down for his morning nap, I close his door and make a sharp left back to my bedroom.  I usually have already prepared a cup of coffee which is at my bedside.  I put on the TV and watch the Today show or some DVRed reality show trash program from the night before.  And I play on my computer.  There is a reason why a lot of my posts are posted around 11am.

Seriously?

I really hate talking politics.  But please allow this small vent.

I went to my annual physical this morning, with Casey in tow.   I waited in the big waiting room.  Then I waited more in the little waiting room, stripped down in just a gown.  (I am pretty sure there is some hilarious Seinfeld stand up routine on this).  The nurse gave careful instructions on the gown wearing, but the minute she left the room I couldn't remember if I was supposed to leave it open in the front or back.  I tried it on both ways and neither seemed right (I went with the back).  I just love going to the doctor!

She did the regular checkup, and at the end asked if I had any additional questions.  I did, in fact.  Sadly, my aunt was recently diagnosed with breast cancer.  She is 62, and thankfully, it looks like she is going to be okay.  Coincidentally (or not so much), my grandmother, my aunt's mother, also was diagnosed with breast cancer at 62.  My grandmother lived with it for 15 years before dying in 2003.

Given this, I wanted to ask if I should be concerned at all, or if I should get tested for the breast cancer gene.  And you know what the doctor said?