A Decade in Review

I saw this on another blog and thought it would be an interesting post so here goes...

2000: I was in my second semester of my first year of law school at LLS. I am in a study group with all guys. Arthur is a particularly annoying guy who does not know how to make his own sandwich and asks me to handle it for him during a study group session. I was glad when he transferred out at the end of the year. Brian tells me I will be a terrible wife and mother because I have no domestic skills and I can't cook. I tell him I don't want kids anyway. I lived next to the Beverly Center with a very very happy girl named Jill who I don't speak to anymore because she lost the cable boxes when we moved out and stiffed me with the bill. Good times. I went to Greece that summer to "study" abroad for 10 weeks...I got REALLY homesick. Got back and started my second year of law school.

2001: Still in law school. Really, that occupied most of my time and energy. I studied a lot. I got a job at a firm that summer and that firm is now no longer in existence. It taught me a lot about people and about how law firms work. I actually stayed at that firm until I graduated at which time they let me go when the two main partners went to work for a much larger firm. Nice timing. I know. In the Fall of 2001, I started my third and final year of law school and tried out for the Giles Sutherland Rich Moot Court team and made the team.

2002: I started my last semester of law school and started going to practice rounds for the Moot Court competition. We went to various Socal firms where we got drilled by attorneys at those firms to prepare us. At one of those firms, I met J. He talked to me by an elevator, he wasn't wearing a ring, and I liked him. But I was busy dating a guy my parents hated. When the competition ended, I sent him a thank you note, he asked me out to dinner...then he asked me to go dancing. I fell in love with J and called my best friend that night to tell her I'd marry him. The next day I dumped the guy my parents hated. In July 2002, I took the California State Bar. In August 2002, I went to Peru with J. In November 2002, I found out I passed the Bar which was AMAZING. So, I sent out 12000 resumes because I was unemployed. In December 2002, I sent an email to an attorney (Marc) who interviewed me at one point wishing him a Happy Birthday...we had the same birthday. He hired me and I went to work in January.

2003: I worked for a big downtown law firm. I wore suits every day (except Friday when I wore jeans). I met my good friend Liz and we had Starbucks and went to this breakfast burrito place all the time. It was awesome. I worked and worked and loved it. It was fun and good times. J proposed on March 20th, less than a year after our first date. We got married on August 30th. We honeymooned on the Cayman Islands. We moved into our condo in Los Al and we fought all the time except when we did not fight. J was building his parents' house so he went there every Saturday and most Sundays which was SUCH a HUGE point of contention. {{It is funny now because I am so happy when J leaves these days. Ha.}}

2004: Still working for the downtown law firm and then on St. Patrick's Day the shit hit the fan and Marc, the partner I worked for, leaves the firm. Everyone wanted me to stay but I felt my future was with Marc and I am a loyal person. So, I left the big downtown law firm. Marc is charismatic, interesting, smart. We raid the offices of a client of his that owes him some coin and we start working on the case that forced him to leave the firm. The office has orange Mr. Furley chairs and no light in the bathroom. Much, much drama ensues. Though it felt like crap, I resign and take an in house position at a nutritional supplement company as IP counsel starting January 2005.

2005: Here I am, working in house. There is no variability in the hours but the people are nice. I pass the patent bar. I work. I go to a meeting up in Gig Harbor, WA. The guys up there are not warm and fuzzy. They want an in house IP counsel up in Gig Harbor. I wouldn't move to Gig Harbor if you deeded me Gig Harbor. I get laid off and negotiate a nice severance package and then I am home, alone, trying to figure out what to do next. J tells me to start my own practice. He tells me that every day. I have no clients. Not a one. So, I print cards on my printer. Create a website and start my own practice. I network, all the time. I despise networking but I start getting clients. In July, we go to Greece and J meets my extended family. J sees me happy and getting clients and growing a practice. He decides to quit his job and join me. We start trying to have a baby.

2006: In January 2006, I find out that I am pregnant and am due October 1st. We still live in our little condo in Los Al but we are building a house in Pomona that we were going to sell. Neither of us commute anywhere anymore so it does not matter where we live. J convinces me that we should move to Pomona which should be ready before the baby is born. I concede with the strong proviso that we will not stay in Pomona any longer than we have to. {We are still in Pomona...sigh.} In September, we (VERY PREGNANT me and J) move to Pomona but there is no gas or electricity. I go to my parents house while Julio roughs it in Pomona. A pregnant woman in her ninth month has no business being in a 110 degree house that has no air conditioning. My OB tells me to have the baby any day but October 2nd because that is Yom Kippur and she is not working. I go into labor at 5 am on October 2nd and by 5:40 pm, I had my Lulo. My angel baby. Now, I am a new Mom. I live at my parents' house until the week before Thanksgiving and move home, to Pomona, with my baby and my J.

2007: I love Lulo. We move into the house that now has temporary electricity and gas. I have a series of college girls who are nannies. I work. I adjust. I become a fan of letting Lulo cry it out and schedules and nap time and meal time. It works for us. Lulo is a good baby. Happy. I think things are actually going kind of nice. I get pregnant again in August and the ultrasound shows one baby. In September, I start puking and literally cannot stop. I puke and puke and puke and puke and puke. I have never been sick so much in my entire life. I can keep nothing down. I drag myself to an appointment, alone, where another OB tells me that I am in fact carrying twins and that one of them appears to not be well, probably Turner's Syndrome. I need an CVS STAT. I admit myself to hospital. Get an IV for the afternoon since I am dehydrated and dying, literally. The next day I get my CVS. The next day I end up in the hospital again for a week because I still can keep nothing down. I am a mess - thyroid is off, heart is off because of thyroid, more puking. Kids not doing well. Lots of tears, lots of dilemmas. In November I find out, not Turner's actually, Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome. Ultrasounds 2-3x a week. Tons of appointments, waiting, lots of unknown.

2008: The twins were viable (24 weeks gestation) on January 10, 2008 and that's when they admitted me to the hospital. J stayed home. Lulo moved in with my parents. My heart ached. I did not leave the hospital until after they were born on March 25th. Then, my miracles were born, Juju and Jojo. Amazing. It was quite a ride. Scary, frustrating. 2008 is a blur of tears and frustration and survival. I juggle and work and survive.

2009: All three boys and J are great. I look at myself and I am a heiff. I join Extreme Bootcamp and chronicle that on my blog, this blog which I started last year. I still do EB. I lost some weight, I gained some weight, I feel sooo much healthier. I work. I got nominated to be president elect of my local NAWBO chapter. I reconnect with people on Facebook. I fit into my clothes again. J and I start to have a more normal existence and resume a pattern. Lulo starts preschool and he grows and changes and talks all the time and is this little fabulous person who is into elephants and penguins and dinosaurs and challenging my patience and sanity. And, I am amazed and stunned by him. Juju and Jojo astound me. They are doing well. So well that I cannot believe how close I came to losing them and I just love to watch them and tickle them. I think they are all too cute for words, though, I clearly do not lack for words. We go to the Dominican Republic in August. We work. Our firm is doing well. We are growing. I can't and won't complain.

It's been quite a decade. You don't realize it until you write it down. I am blessed. I wonder what the next 10 will bring.

Tromba

So, Lulo is sort of into Christmas this year and along with the story of Mary, Jofef and Baby Jesus he knows that he is getting some presents.

Now, I asked him what he wants and he said: "An Elephant."
What else do you want? An Elephant Tromba. (Tromba is the Portuguese word for "trunk". Two Portuguese nannies and a absentee mother...do the math.)

Anyhow, he wants this because Murray on Sesame Street spent a whole episode wearing an elephant tromba the other day. And Murray's sort of appeared to be made of a rubber band and a vacuum tube. Um, this is all I can find?

If 3 people tell me this is not phallic or frightening, then I will buy it. Speak now before the shipping charges kill me.

Need Further Information

The last time I went to Disneyland was with J before we got married over 6 years ago. My cousin is somehow affiliated with Disney and she gave us tickets as a gift for some pre-wedding festivity, perhaps the bridal shower. Anyhow, we went and it was fine. We were pretty much in agreement that we would never go back unless our future children had somehow been told that there was a place called Disneyland in existence and that they had to go for some homework assignment/field trip.

The funny thing is that I think that this commonality and one other thing that makes me a little strange cemented my relationship with J. Most people have deal breakers and I think my 2 deal breakers would have been (1) a spouse who wanted a season pass to Disneyland and (2) a spouse who wanted to have a dog or animal of any kind living in my house or on my property that I would be required to feed or care for. J basically agrees with this and so when times are rough (and they aren't often), I always think back to these two particular things and love J even more because (1) he'll never ask me if we can get a dog and (2) he'll never take me to Disneyland. I heart him.

Anyhow, I digress, as of late with this Facebook phenomenon whereby you can see everyone's status updates, I have noted that I have a lot of friends who totally LOVE Disneyland. They go at every opportunity. It completely baffles me. Can a Disney lover tell me why they love it? Let me into your world. I want to understand. Long lines abound. It is SO expensive. The food isn't notable. Am I doing something wrong? Where is the happy at the happiest place on earth?

A season pass at Disneyland is $429/person. To go for one day to Disneyland, for my family (excluding the twins because they are still 20 months) it would be $206. $206. I can get an 80 minute massage, a cocktail, and dinner for $206. Ok, that's selfish. The other day I managed to get my kids a HUGE BAG of clothes consisting of what is essentially their entire winter wardrobe for less than $200.

Moreover, I really can't go anywhere with these little people for more than a 3-4 hours or so because then they spontaneously combust with exhaustion and I proceed to combust. So, I would pay $206 for my entire family to disintegrate into tears in less than 4 hours.

Alright, so, I won't get to see the pure joy in the eyes of my children. I would pay $206 for the pure joy in the eyes of my children but is that why you Disney-philes flock there? Because honestly, I can get pure joy at the zoo and the kids almost burst with joy at the aquarium a few weeks ago and it was perfectly doable in a 4 hour block of time without breaking the budget. And then, there are those people who always loved Disneyland - as kids, as adults, pre-kids, post-kids, etc. And they will always completely baffle me. I almost can't imagine any place I would want to be less (excluding jail, underground tunnels trying to cross the border, and traffic school).

I need an explanation. Digame.

You Can't Change DNA

Though, I have not been diagnosed as clinically obsessive compulsive, J often jokes about the things that I am extremely anal about and how I need things a certain way. I am getting better now that chaos and Fisher-Price have exploded in my abode. But, we are very routined around here, and in my own existence, things are done the same way, all the time, or I get a little flustered and off.

Examples, the sheets have to be just right so I can sleep. If the sheets are messy in any way, then I will get out of bed and make the bed and then unmake it so I can sleep. J makes fun of me because he says I make the bed in the morning while he is still in it. {Sheepishly, yes, I make my half but otherwise, he doesn't and then I have to look at a mess.} Anyhow, that is beside the point.

When I was a kid, I remember repeatedly getting up out of bed because I was not sure if I had checked the closets for the monsters and The Night Stalker. Closet and then under the bed, maybe 7 times. I use the word kid loosely because I think I just stopped doing this in my 20s.
I also had the same Good Night ritual with my Mom, every single night. I would say the same thing in the same order. And, if she did not respond correct or if I did not hear it, or if I wanted it said again, then I would keep saying it and saying it and saying it. Totally psycho. And yet, my Mother never was like OMG GOOD NIGHT FRIGGEN ALREADY!!!

OK, OCD. So, here is my question. My Lulo is totally like me and you know what, it drives me a little nuts sometimes, makes me laugh other times. Mostly the nuts one. Am I allowed to get annoyed sometimes when he is really just doing what a little me would have done? Is this my genetic curse?

He wants his blankets on a certain way and if I tuck him in a little different, if the satin on one of his blankets is flipped over a little bit. He is like FIX THE BLANKET, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIX IT. And then, his Good Night ritual is the same, he wants to hear it, he wants to hear it the same way every night and he makes me repeat it and repeat it until it is how he wants it. I have a 100 examples of this kind of nonsense. These are just a few that are 100% identical to me.

He is soooo my kid. But, I do not think it is right to get irritated when he really is just me all over again. I mean, come on! He can't help himself, his genetic code is embedded with this anal retentive, weird borderline OCD stuff. I love that kid. He may not look like me, but he is totally me. How did my mother do this?

Discrimination in the Work Place

I know this is primarily a blog talking about my family and life and stuff. But, I do work. I am an attorney and my husband and I have our own practice specializing in intellectual property. The only reason the area of law is relevant is because this is not Family Law or some area where you may prefer to have a male or female attorney because of some kind of philandering issue or some money grubbing whore issue. Anyhow, the reason I bring this up is because today my Assistant fielded a call from a potential client that I thought was so comical and I am trying to get to the bottom of it.

The man called and said he wanted a "male attorney only." My assistant (a female) asked him what kind of issue this was regarding and he responded "internet law". She told him that the "man" here does not really do internet law and that most of these matters are handled by ME (not a man) and that I am FABULOSA.

He tried to convince her to put him through to the "man." (Seriously, he did.) But she was wise and did not put him through. (A) J would tell him that he does not handle internet matters and (B) on principle alone, GO FIND A MAN ELSEWHERE!!!

This firm was founded by a woman. Look at our WEBSITE (which is where he found us) - 75% WOMEN ATTORNEYS. Figure it out.

And because I am a discriminating a-hole with a middle eastern father who I respect and love dearly even though he'd rather talk to J than me, I asked her if he sounded like an AY-rab. Nope. No accent. And so, it was just some dude who likes dudes. And I don't get it? A porno website? Maybe that is the only thing - lots of tits and ass on the website and so he was like, how can I ask a woman to click the OVER 18 box and look at tits and ass? Just thought this was humorous. A MAN ONLY. A penis is the only thing that could solve his internet issue? Bastard. Hope he finds a MAN who charges him too much and does not pay for his porno subscription. OK, am I wrong here? Seriously, I don't get it. Why call a professional law office and ask for a man? I get wanting a woman gynecologist, I even get wanting a particular sex for a family lawyer, but OUR firm? Seriously? Gimme a break.

Puzzle Pieces.

20 months ago today, the twins were born after a long hard pregnancy. And so, of course, today on Thanksgiving-eve, I am thankful for a whole boatload of stuff - my family and friends most of all.

But, today, 20 months to the day of their glorious and splendid birth, I am very thankful for the fact after many many attempts over the last several months and a heated session this evening in the garage, J and I finally figured out how to fit the twin stroller AND Lulo's stroller in the trunk of the minivan.

If that is not a marker of success in a marriage and in parenthood, then I don't know what is. Happy Thanksgiving.

The Ex-Nanny Chronicles Part IV: Jane Doe

Before Herpes nanny, we had Jane Doe nanny. And the reason I call her this is not because she died without identification but because I cannot remember her name. She was young, bright eyed, and bushy tailed. She came to an interview all dressed up and just so. Her cousin brought her and she was also one of her references because Jane had been taking care of her kids.



Anyhow, she came on a Sunday night with all her stuff. She loved scrapbooking and took copious notes (like 4 pages worth) on my one page to do list. This should have been a sign. What can you annotate next to "Do Laundry." She had squiggly big letters that reminded me of this girl in high school who used wide ruled paper, took up the ENTIRE line, and dotted her i's with hearts.



Jane came on a Monday, on Tuesday night she locked herself out of the house when she went outside for a walk at midnight, on Wednesday she came into my office crying that she missed her family in New Mexico and was giving her notice...for Friday! She then asked me to help her buy her plane ticket with her paycheck that she had yet to earn on my computer with my credit card.



This story is funny in and of itself but the punch line was when Herpes nanny spent the night in Jane's room the first time. She came up to me and told me that she found a roach in the room.



To which I responded, "HOLY SHIT a roach. Now we have ROACHES. I hate Roaches. Ew, roaches. There is never just one roach. Ew, ROACHES. I hate roaches. We better get an exterminator in here."



To which Herpes Nanny generally responded in the following fashion, "No, Dear Tina from Orange County, not that kind of roach." This kind.



Oh, Jane Doe, let's just call you Pot Smoking Nanny.