Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
And then Evie asked Chuck if he has big "nubbles." Yes, no, ignore the question? What's the correct answer?
He is so excited. He is wearing his little soccer practice outfit that I bought at Target. He's totally Beckham'ed out and ready to dig in the dirt and chase butterflies at his first practice tonight. He also gets to wear shin guards and bring his very own soccer ball (size 3). Did anyone know that soccer balls come in sizes? I had no idea, but I guess the sizes start at 3.
I never played sports as a kid so all this is new to me. I'm very excited that Luke is getting to play sports. I think I somehow missed a basic tenant of understanding competitive sports. To me, you go out there, have fun, and win or lose, you go home and get on with your life. Apparently, this is not the case. I know people who are competitive in every aspect of their life, whereas I'm more of a live and let live kinda girl. If someone bills more hours than me at work or makes more money than me, but they worked harder for it, then eh, who cares. If someone else kicks butt at golf , I think that's great and I just move on with my score of 120, pop another beer, and call it a day.
My friend Ginny, on the other hand, is super competitive about Trivial Pursuit and I think all board games in general. I just sit back and watch her control the game. Doesn't bother me in the least, and in fact, I find it rather amusing as I continue to sip my adult beverage of choice. ( I wonder if it would be less amusing without an alcoholic beverage - nah, probably not - she's freakin' hilarious). I think it's okay to be competitive when you're good at something (which Ginny is nauseatingly good at TP - no wonder she went ivy league for a while), but could you imagine someone who is horrendous at a sport or activity trying to be killer competitive? That would drive me crazy! For example, parents who boast about their mediocre kids as if they are the next Leonardo Di Vinci or Michael Jordan. Seriously, someone out there has to have an admittedly stupid kid or an ugly baby. (Not mine, of course, they're perfect in every way!) Why do parents feel the need to one-up each other. Two of Luke's friends are reading already - Luke is not and I wouldn't even try to say he is even close. One of Evie's friends can recite the Declaration of Independence flawlessly - Evie cannot. (Just kidding, but most of them do speak more clearly than she does, but c'est la vie). Some parents then say, well, my kid can't read but he has great hand-eye coordination. C'mon, give me a break.
Sorry, I went off on a tangent there. Luke's little soccer team is all boys. I really thought it would be co-ed at this age, but I obviously don't know a lot about sports, as evidenced above. Unfortunately, all of Luke's games are on Saturdays this fall so we won't be making it to many of the Aggie games and Chuck will be missing several of Luke's soccer games. No one seems bothered by this, so I haven't gotten my panties in a twist about any of it. We'll definitely miss Chuck when he's at the games, but each year I grow more and more accustomed to his A&M football addiction. I'm just counting on Chuck to be around when the baby is delivered or when I'm dilated 3 centimeters and the doctor says point blank to Chuck, "You should not go out of town." Luckily, it looks like we will be able to attend two games this year: one this weekend and one in November. That should be plenty for this prego Soccer Mom.
Yet another tangent, sorry. Well, I'll try to get pics of Luke in his soccer stuff and post them soon so you can see how much he looks like a real soccer player.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Friday, I got fed up with work and took off early after a hearing in federal court in which I won the hearing, but felt like an idiot in the end. Long, boring story over $5.43. That night, I wanted to do something fun for the kids so I decided that we should venture out to the Rainforest Cafe. Great idea, right? I thought the kids would love all the decorations and moving animals, but no, instead Luke sat with his hands over his ears the whole time (eating his hot dogs without his hands like a dog) and Evie cried every time the animals started going. The only high point of the dinner was when this teenager made these amazing balloon animals. Luke got a cricket and Evie got a butterfly. Pretty pathetic Friday night, right?
Saturday, I took the kids to the park. They had a great time and I felt good being able to do something fun for them since they clearly did not enjoy the Rainforest Cafe. Then we went shopping at Target. I've totally got red-basket-fever! Love the place. We stocked up on some items for the new College Station Estate (aka the redneck trailer). As mentioned above, Chuck and I spent the evening celebrating our anniversary over fondue. Yum.
But, Sunday, while boring, had some interesting highlights. We decided to spend Sunday driving around looking for where we want to move. We hit Aledo first (way out West and too far from anything, but great schools and good homes for the value). Well, we were in the car and decided to stop at our local Jack in the Box for drinks all around before setting out on our long expedition. (Good idea, except when you have a two year old who isn't stellar at holding it when she has to go potty). So we're pulling into the drive through and I'm asking the kids what they want to drink. Luke, like his Daddy, wanted diet coke. To convince us, he explained that "Caffiene makes me sleepy. I like caffiene. If I have caffiene it will help me sleep." He had a lot of conviction in this belief, much to our surprise. I said, "We'll see." We ordered him a small diet coke (which we all know is probably more than a can of coke). He drank almost the entire thing. Just like his Daddy.
Later that day, we are driving along a country road, fairly quiet, looking at houses when Luke (out of nowhere) announces with wonder, "Mommy, my penis is beeping!" My eyes widen in shock. Chuck cracks a smile and shakes his head silently. I bite the inside of my mouth to keep my laughter in check and then responded, "Just leave it alone, honey, and it will stop." Now clearly we all know his private part isn't beeping, but Luke has always had a problem distinguishing between beeping and blinking and one can only assume that he understands it to mean something that happens in a repeated fashion. I'm sure you can all guess (as we did) what he was trying to tell me. This is not the first time he has discussed his privates with me or anyone else. He has also asked Chuck what happened to Evie's penis. "Did it fall off?" To which Chuck responded, "No it didn't fall off. Evie never had one. Girls don't have penises." This was profound.
Days later, while we were socializing with other parents at Central Market, Luke announced to his little friend Savannah that he has a penis and asked her if she has a penis. (Must be a slow learner). Savannah then ran to her mommy and asked, "Do I have a penis." Thanks Luke, for introducing the topic of sex education for Savannah's parents. I'm sure they were just waiting for the opportune moment to explain the differences between boys and girls. Poor Savannah. Chuck and I grimaced, buried our heads and hoped Savannah's poor parents didn't kill us. I apologized profusely and told them that he has been asking about it since he is fascinated by his own private part and intrigued in the differences between himself and Evie.
For me, this is all new. My brothers were both quite older than me and we never bathed together. Luke and Evie, on the other hand, are very close in age and so we still bathe them together in spite of the differences in their anatomy. I guess we'll need to start curbing that. But, the dealings of Luke and his new found glory has been an eye opening experience for me.
In the morning, Luke will announce proudly in a wondrous voice, "Mommy, my penis is big!" To which I respond, "yes, just leave it alone and it will go back to normal." Then, on occasion, he will start hitting it. I have no idea why. I've asked Chuck and he has no idea why either. I have to tell him to stop and that it will go away. I'm totally at a loss as to how to handle this. Chuck says I should ignore it and not comment on anything that has to do with my child's private parts, but clearly I can't have him walking around at school after nap time hitting his penis. What is the solution? Chuck's suggested tactic seems wrong to me. (Sorry, Chuck). I believe in being forthright and honest and calling his penis by its proper name, but I'm not sure what else I can do to derail his fascination with it. Then again, perhaps that is just the difference between boys and girls, and a fascination with private parts is just a guy thing to do. As I've said before, it is like he's already a 15 year old boy. Luckily, it is all innocent and not constant. Anyone else know what to do?
As for Evie, we have a similar problem with her nipples. For a while, every time she took off her shirt or dress she would reach for her nipples, rub them and say proudly, "Nubbles!" Her attention to her "nubbles" has waned a bit, but I feel like I should really emphasize that there is a time and place to discuss your private parts. This feeling, of course, is in direct contradiction to my feeling that you should be open and honest about your kids' bodies and sex. Similarly, I don't think the Ken doll should be anatomically correct or that toy horses should be anatomically correct. Who knows what the right answer is?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Here are the lyrics.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Almost a full year has passed. This is what she looked like last night:
We were playing around before bedtime, which would explain why they were both still awake when Chuck and I went to bed at 10:30 last night.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Now, I know I'm not fat or obese, so don't go chastizing me for complaining about that. I know I don't look like Roseanne Barr or Kirsti Alley (pre or post Jenny Craig); however, I'm certainly not the moderately toned person that I used to be. And the frutstrating part about it is that I think Moms, in general, work harder (physically) than others. No, we don't have time to spend hours at the gym (unless a woman's husband supports her when she stays at home and sends the kids with the Nanny, or the like), but we Moms spend nights picking up toys endlessly, picking up children constantly, hauling two year olds or younger in our arms through grocery stores as we maneuver a full cart flawlessly through the aisles, throwing baseballs, chasing children, swinging them around, hauling lunches, backpacks, blankets, diaper bags, etc. all around (sometimes wearing heels, no less). I would think all these daily activities would shape a mom back up, maybe not into the shape of a supermodel, but at least not flabby everywhere. Instead, I fit back into most clothes, but not in the way I'd like. Plus, going shopping sucks, especially for jeans and swimsuits.
Almost two years ago I decided I needed some new jeans, so I went to Gap (where I always went before having kids) and I tried on my size - no luck and depressingly so. My thighs were too big for the legs and my waist was too small, still flabby, but too small to match the size of my thighs. Sadly, I couldn't suck in my thighs so I was stuck. I tried on a bigger size - no luck. I tried on a different style - that was worse. I pinched, and squeezed, and kicked off every pair of jeans in frustration. I got in my car, slammed the door and drove across the parking lot to Talbots where I promptley found a stretchy pair of jeans that fit over my unruly thighs, hips, and bottom. I walked out to the cashier, paid for the unsexy new jeans, and showed up at home in my Mom Brand Jeans, where I then confessed that I had lost all hope and that I intended to just eat whatever I wanted from then on since there was clearly no point in diet or exercise. Today, I loathe my Mom Brand Jeans from Talbots. I must reclaim myself - after I pop out George, of course.
The greatest thing about maternity clothes, is that everything stretches everywhere. God bless spandex and polyester. Until I get the go ahead from the Doctor after I give birth, I'm enjoying the fact that there are no panty hose cutting into my flabby tummy, no taut seams on my pants, and no reason to suck in.
Monday, August 18, 2008
I can't believe they would release the trailer and then pull the movie release. This sucks! Is anyone else pissed off about this? Maybe I'm the only Potter-obsessed-30-year-old.
At this point there is really no reason for buying new baby clothes for the little boy except to replace any of the clothes that Luke ruined by spitting up and drooling, but seriously, it's not like George is going to reject Luke's clothes because they're so last season. Anyway, I bought something for the little one which tends to make the whole situation much more real. Now, I need to contemplate decorating his room. I haven't broken it to Chuck yet, but I fully intend to buy new bedding for George. When Luke was born we bought pretty neutral bedding and said, "This is great because we can use it for the next kid" Of course, freako-hormonal-me went out and insisted on buying something girly for my precious Evie six weeks before she was born. I didn't think she should be treated like a second-class citizen just because she came second. And so, while I don't believe the whole "second-class-citizen" thing holds water, I'll admit that I just want to buy new bedding for this next one. I tend to like things to match.
The biggest hitch in the plan is that I have no idea where we will be when this little baby will be born. I'm intending to actually put a sign in front of my house next week, but who knows how long it will take to actually sell the house. It could be 2 weeks, it could be a year. So, instead, we're in a holding pattern until we get an offer or figure out that no one wants our house, which is currently my fear.
Yesterday, Chuck and I drove around a couple of neighborhoods looking for a new place to live (yes, we like to put the cart before the horse sometimes). There is this gorgeous new neighborhood in West Fort Worth that we really shouldn't even consider but, ugh - it is tooo beautiful!!!! It is called Montserrat. It's located on a cliff that has a pretty good view of downtown Fort Worth on one side and a sprawling view of land on the other. Very pretty (for Fort Worth). I fell in love instantly and we found this great house that has the perfect room for a Nanny (not that the nanny thing is set in stone yet). Ahh, so we really enjoyed looking at all the possibilities that are open to really rich people in Montserrat. Next weekend, I intend to set my focus on more realistic homes in Arlington and Grapevine. Of course, if we bought the cheapest house in Montserrat then we could go hang at our neighbor's kick-ass multi-million dollar houses. Right now, we're pretty much surrounded by old people so we can't hang out at their million dollar houses, but in Montserrat, there are tons of young rich people so we might have a better chance there. But then again, we'd be pressured to send our kids to some snooty private school and I'm not really on board for that.
Okay, enough chit chat - must get to work.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Listen closely, little children: Don't go to law school. You'll die a miserable, mean person, even if you thought practicing law was about helping people. Atticus Finch is dead.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
It has been progressing slowly over the last few months to a full case of Selective deafness. At first I only had to repeat things once or twice to get their attention, but now I have to screech unattractively at the top of my lungs to get anything done. For example, this morning I tell Luke, "Luke, please go put on your shoes." He continues to play with his car as I finish making his lunch - the deafness is clearly affecting his ability to hear my request. So, again, I say, "Luke, I asked to you put on your shoes." This time I watched him continue to play without a flinch or reaction to my voice - and I decide he really has lost his hearing. Otherwise, wouldn't he have at least looked at me and then decided to ignore me as he continued to play with his toys? Again, but a little louder this time as I stretch my head forward and look at him intently as if my laser-mom vision will spark his attention, "Luke, I'm only going to ask you one more time to put your shoes on." This time, he slightly reacts by pausing with his car, yet he continues to play as he makes his quiet vvroom-vroom noises. I wait only a half minute and then realize that the deafness is no longer partial but complete, and I screech in frustration at an escalated pitch and fervor: "LUKE! PUT YOUR SHOES ON NOW!!!" I expect him to jump and start crying because he is in trouble for not having heard me the first few times, but instead he looks up and says in a whine, "I've just got to finish playing with my car." Now, I realize he is not only deaf but quite possibly mentally challenged because there can be no doubt to anyone ages 1 to 101 that I am beyond the patience of asking him to put on his shoes. It was crystal clear that my last statement was a COMMAND - one that a 5 star general would utter resulting in chaotic running in the barracks as the troops rush to get their shoes on. Instead, my slow child decides to respond as if I had merely suggested that now would be a good time to put his shoes on. To my frustration I have to actually respond since he hasn't taken his hand off his car even though he has now heard me, looked at me, and responded. So make the evilest eyes I can manage by squinting, I lean my head forward, clench my teeth together and growl each word succinctly, "Get - your - shoes - on - nowwwwwww!" Usually this elicits Luke to throw down his car and run toward his shoes sobbing that "You're not being very nice to me!" But instead, this morning, he stops in his tracks still holding the car, and looks at me as he asks curiously, as if he is perplexed, "Why are you talking like that, Mommy?" Obviously, he now thinks I'm the mentally challenged individual in the room.
I couldn't help it but I turned my head and giggled because I realized how stupid I must have looked and clearly I wasn't creating the menacing, strict effect I was looking for. So instead, now having gotten his attention, I say in a calm voice (still stern of course) "Luke, you need to get your shoes on now or I'm leaving without you." He hops over to his shoes as he says cheerfully, "Okay!" I grit my teeth, take a deep breath, and chuckle to myself in frustration. Little did I know, I was about to repeat the entire thing with both of them as I hustled them to the front door (my arms full of lunches, brief case, purse, blankets and keys) and told them to get into the car.
So, I've decided my children are without a doubt suffering from Late Onset Selective Deafness. Now I'm trying to decide who needs to see a doctor: Should Evie and Luke see and audiologist or should I see a therapist?
Friday, August 8, 2008
We still don't have the Expedition back so Chuck and I are carpooling to work. It actually works out pretty well because he helps get the kids ready and forces us to be out of the house by 7:30, then he drops me off first (because it takes too long to drop me off after we take the kids to school), then he takes the kids to school, and drives to work. In the evenings he retraces his steps by picking up the kids and then picking me up. It's been great for my hours at work. In at 7:35, out at 6:20. What a great week! But, I'm basically stranded here without a car so what else am I going to do? My billables are really up this week too since it has been a crazy week of depos; I've already billed 39.3 hours, and I have a full day to go before the weekend. I try to bill about 40 hours a week, but it doesn't always happen. Of course, my friend Caroline is preparing for trial so she probably is already up to 45 or 50 hours and plans to work all weekend. Those are the times that create a month of billing over 200 hours. I think last time she prepared for trial she had a month where she billed about 300 hours (she had to have worked every day of the month for at least 10 hours! (Usually, if you bill 180 you've had a solid month, so that should put it in perspective). Enough about billing - the bane of my existence.
I find it intersting that "billable hours" (which I hate) and "happy hours" (which I love) sound so similar and share the word hours. Curious. Plus, there is no way to mix the two events, at least not at my firm.
Speaking of happy hours, the lady attorneys in my office (all of which are associates - there is only one female shareholder and she doesn't really hang with us) have a monthly happy hour at someone's house. Last night was my turn to host and everyone got to see all the changes we've made to the house. We had so much fun gossiping about everything - family, friends, my kids (no one else has any), work, etc. It's a great time to catch up with one another and to vent any frustrations we may be having at work and in life in general. Last night I had a meat and cheese tray, crackers, bread, olives, fruit salad, cheesecake and WINE. Yum- I love finger foods. Wish I could have enjoyed the wine. It was fun and it was great to catch up with everyone. I work with such a great group of ladies. There are seven of us now, but we're adding two more next month. We'll have to ease the newbies into our craziness.
Gotta get to work.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Here's the link: http://officespam.chattablogs.com/archives/2006/08/coloring-book-for-lawyers.html
Oh how I long for one of those little pink pills!
By the way, my phone has 33 buttons (not counting the numbers), but I only use three. Maybe if I used more of the buttons I would be a better lawyer?
The hectic lifestyle we are living continues to worsen. Our latest bad news includes the fact that we have to replace the transmission on our 2004 Expedition. It sucks! So, at the moment, we are carpooling which isn't as easy as it used to be when Chuck and I both worked downtown. Now, the kids and I are still downtown, but Chuck is 20 minutes away in North Richland Hills. It isn't bad compared to some of you all who commute in Houston or Dallas, but it has pretty much screwed up our routine. Hopefully, we'll have the Expedition back tomorrow or the next day, after we pay the $2,300 bill, of course.
I am just thankful that our health and safety continue to be secure. Plus, we are looking forward to adding the new little tyke to the family. We'll find out what we're having next Thursday, so stay tuned!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
For example, Lisa Marie Presley just announced that she is expecting twins. Angelina Jolie just gave birth to twins. JLo just had twins. Rebecca Romijn is expecting twins. And the list goes on and on: Marcia Cross (twin girls), Julia Roberts (boy & girl), Patrick Dempsey (twin boys), Mia Hamm (twin girls), P-Diddy (twin girls), Denzel Washington (boy & girl), Melissa Etheridge (boy & girl). Creepy? I think so, just a little. Pretty soon, to Jack's great delight, the world will be filled with twins and their "psychic connections." Just kidding, but it does make you wonder . . .
Still, the explanation that I've read in the news sounds plausible enough: (1) women are waiting to start families combined with the fact that women over the age of 35 are more likely to ovulate two eggs at one time - hence twins; and (2) increased fertilization drugs. Both reasons I fully support, so I guess I can't complain about the abundance of twins. Really, just an observation.
I grabbed a bowl of Lucky Charms, crawled into bed, read one chapter in a cheap romance novel to get my head cleared, and then fell asleep at 10:00 p.m. I didn't get up until 7:00 a.m. I was whipped! Now I'm back at work and looking forward to another long evening of depo prep. Oh, the joys of being a litigation attorney.
I know all working moms have their late-night commitments or the equivalent. I really miss my babies today and wish I could go get them early today. However, our fun will have to wait until depos are over and my deadlines are met.
Luckily, Edouard will be dropping some rain on us tomorrow. I'm certain the relief from the freakin' sunshine and heat will brighten my mood considerably.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Our kids are required to wear Crocs (name brand or generic) or slippers at their daycare when they are inside. Luke's generic brand pair from Target is falling apart so I promised him the other day that I would get him some A&M Crocs. This morning I found out that Evie is moving up to a big kids class so she'll need a pair too, so I ordered her some Cinderella Crocs. I hope they fit. I dropped approximately $35.00 per pair. Ouch. I think they're $10 at Target. Nonetheless, there is nothing that could have made me feel better about a $100 purchase than this Newsweek article telling me what dorks my kids will be for wearing these newly ordered shoes.
As I head into the weekend, I want to wish the best to little J.P.! Happy first birthday, buddy! Wish we could be there! Maybe I'll send you a pair of crocs for your birthday since you should be walking soon! And to Ashley, I hope Maggie isn't making you too uncomfortable with all this heat. I hate to miss fun baby stuff and yummy shower food, but I'm out this weekend. Hope you don't encounter too much traffic on your way to Houston.
Luke getting his hair cut:
Evie after a wash (what a brave girl - she's never had her hair washed at the salon before):
The dejected haircut victims:
All in all, it was a success. Notice how Luke is exhibiting his typical "boy" behavior - it is like he's already 15! We spent the next hour shopping while Chuck was at Coach's night.