Tag Archives: law school wife

My Husband, My Hero.

17 May

Today is the day. Our journey as a “law school family” is done, in just a couple of hours. As we speak, my hero, my husband, is sitting in a room with all sorts of other people, taking his last and final exam in law school.

He has sacrificed. He has endured. He has achieved. He has accomplished his goals.

Together, we have made it happen, and happen well, and it’s finally over.

I’m sure it’s easy to wonder why it’s such a big deal, and why I act like an excited puppy about finishing “grad school” but anyone who’s been through law school as a particular form of grad school, knows just how intense is. In law school, your grades and your efforts directly affect your earning potential and ability to create the future you want to have. There are an abundance of lawyers in Los Angeles, and not an abundance of decent jobs.

Before we started the journey, I had a co-worker who’s fiance had just finished law school. She was telling us about how he had $250,000 in school debt and was getting offers at companies who wanted to pay him less than $50K/year. She was stressed out, because they were planning a wedding and didn’t know how they were going to pay for it. In some parts of the country, $50K would be a decent living, but when you have a quarter million in school debt alone, and live in Los Angeles, it’s impossible. Now, I understand that though he finished school, and passed the Bar, his ability to get a good job, were probably limited by factors I understand now, grades being one of them.

We heavily processed this when we went into this new world, making a decision that we were going to have to give everything over to the process and let the process give us everything back. It worked. Our plan to sacrifice everything to make these 4 years of school turn into a successful 40 years ahead of us, worked.

My husband is in the top of his class. He’s worked tirelessly to make sure that the debt we’ve accrued will have a plan for attainable pay off, and that our family will be able to have a stable future.

Through all of it, he’s balanced the act of being top of his class, with being a loving father and husband. We have all sacrificed, but he’s worked double time to make sure that the kids, while they don’t see him for days at a time sometimes, know that their daddy loves them. The days we have been able to spend together have been the best days. He started this journey with one infant son, and is ending it with 2 small children; A 4 year old who only knows what it’s like to have a daddy, with books and a full backpack as his best friends, and an almost 2 year old who wakes up early in the morning, every morning, looking for the 20 minutes he gets to see his dad. Sometimes, he is there in the morning, and sometimes, he would have already left an hour before even the early riser would wake up.

This has been the hardest experience of my life, and I can’t believe it’s over.

 

My dear sweet husband, I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe it’s over.

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Monday Can Kiss It

2 Nov

Pretty sure nothing feels worse than leaving the house so early in the morning that you weren’t able to see/nurse your baby, just to sit in so much traffic, you’re actually late to work, BESIDES hearing your older son say “mama, I still need breakfast!” as you’re hustling him out the door.

If ever I’ve been optimistic, all optimism left my body by 7:30AM today. Seriously.

I packed everything up last night, had it all set and we were ready for this morning, as we went to sleep at 9. Pump packed, just add ice pack. Clothes set aside, just find pants in the morning. Snacks/traffic-style breakfast items packed, travel coffee cup clean and ready for brewing. Kid’s backpack packed and ready to go, just fill water bottle in the morning. Slow cooker dinner items set aside and ready, except for meats, which would be added in the morning too. R-E-A-D-Y… or not.

Couldn’t find my pants in the morning, kid watched too much TV while I got ready, and sure, he had a banana and string cheese, but I DIDN’T MAKE HIM BREAKFAST, so he ate dry cereal on the way to school in the car. And of course, the baby; asleep, unfed and uninterested in bottles still. #momguilt See ya later little guy. Hope you don’t starve all day. I’ll be home by bedtime.

Then to top it all off, traffic was terrible. Go figure. It was so bad, that as early as I left, I still got to the office later than I should have. This is going to be much more of an adjustment than I expected it to be. MUCH MORE.

If you see me before noon, don’t ask how I’m doing… just expect that I’m still shaking off the chaos of the morning and am feeling like a terrible mother. Asking me how I’m doing will likely open a can of worms that you don’t want the answer to. So, just be nice and say “it’s nice to see you” or “good morning” and accept my scowl as a kind “good morning, it’s nice to see you too” for now.

I’m sure I’ll return to my happy self soon. This can’t/won’t last forever. But, the mom guilt is strong and until I figure out how to have a giant commute on top of everything else, just hang tight cuz I’m trying to hang tight too.

QUEUE TOTAL MELTDOWN: While pumping in the super fancy closet/storage room for one of our clients, my brand new, fancy Madela Freestyle Pump, jiggled itself off of the table, and facedown onto the floor, breaking the screen. Now, none of the fancy features work, though as it is, I was manually pumping one side, while electric pumping the other, since for some weird reason, the suction wasn’t working BEFORE the fall even. As I bent down to pick the motor up, I spilled milk ALL OVER my legs. Like, ALL over, and the floor. and the everything, every where. #isitnotmondayanymoreyet?

Fighting the Working Mom Blues

23 Sep
Of course, this picture is fuzzy because I didn't take it. Daycare took it and sent me my son's first real life encounter with his beloved "Turler".

Of course this picture is fuzzy, because I didn’t take it. Daycare took it and sent me my son’s first real life encounter with his beloved and most favorite animal, the “Turler”.

Some days are just blue. You think about what your kid is doing, while sitting at your desk miles away from them, then when you do see them, they have learned a new skill, or set of words, or trick, that you weren’t there to experience with them. Or, you get a fuzzy picture from the daycare’s owner, of his first time touching a turtle, and you weren’t there. BLUE, I tell ya. Just blue… or grey.

All of the “I’m being a good example to him by working to support our family” condolences are sweet, but some days, I just wish I could sit on the couch with him all day, with no outside responsibilities. Or, go to the park, or throw him in the stroller and go for a late morning walk (like all the moms I see on my route between daycare and the office), go to the beach when it’s not packed, go to a toddler gym class, music class or swim class at 11:00AM on a Tuesday (you get the idea), but that is just not the case. Four to five days a week, he’s in “school” from 9-5 while I work, giving us a mere 2-3 days a week to spend time together. That is a hard pill to swallow. I’m not one of those moms who just “can’t give up their career”, or “wouldn’t be happy being at home all day”… I work to keep our family fed.

I’m not delusional either. I don’t think that staying at home is easier, and somehow that makes spending time with my kid/at home more enticing. That’s exactly opposite of what I think. There’s nothing about mothering that’s easier than being in my office all day. When I’m at work, I’m able to drink what I want, eat what I want, sit down to lunch like a human and actually eat my food while carrying on an uninterrupted conversation, pee by myself… there are a lot of perks to having the ability to go to work, but not one of those perks can replace the joy of witnessing my son smile so big at something new he’s discovered, or attempt to say new words (we’re currently working on making sentences I can understand. Today he said “more jelly” and I about burst). And yet, it’s a necessity. A necessity that comes with enormous sacrifices, and sometimes, those sacrifices leave me blue.

I’ve often said the words “I hate that someone else is raising my child, while I’m at work” and continued down the big blue hole.

While researching some mom blogs about how to make dinner prep time easier when you get home late and still want to salvage those precious 2 hours between getting off of work and bedtime, I found the encouragement I needed to continue on as a working mom, reset my understanding of my position in life, and leave some of the blue behind me.

You see, until now, I’ve been a huge part of the perspective problem. I’ve convinced myself that I’m doing something wrong by being gone all day, and letting someone else “raise my baby”, but that’s just not true!

NO ONE ELSE IS RAISING MY KID FOR ME. I AM. 

Our daycare teachers are not raising Remy for us. Not even when we had an in-home nanny, was someone else “raising” my kid for me. My husband and I raise our child. Together. Everyone else is paid to care for him in our absence while we’re at work, but like hell is anyone else actually raising our son for us. Last I checked, it was me he nursed from (still, at 19 months old), me who wakes up with him every morning and holds him as he goes to sleep at night. It’s my husband and I who feed him and wake up with him in the middle of the night. It was my husband and my bodies that made him, and my body that carried him for 38 weeks. We are the ones planning and scheduling and loving and caring for and holding and everything… except for a few hours a day, when our bodies are further away, but our minds… our minds and hearts are never absent. We rely on our amazing daycare for daily help, but that’s it.

We are the ones who determine how he will be raised and the ones whose hands, arms, minds, and hearts do all the work to accomplish that.

So, here I am… I initially started this post as a sad post about missing my son all day, and though I still am sad about missing him, and not getting to spend the time with him that I wish I could, I’m NOT sad because I feel like someone else is “raising him”, and I am not.

Thank you Kerry and Kristina for your words of wisdom and understanding, while also helping to remove some of my massive mom guilt. Thank you for helping me understand that I’m the mom, and that the absence of being at work, doesn’t replace me or trump me as a parent. Thank you for going the road before me and for helping me through… Thank you for helping me see a positive and honest perspective on our situation. Thank you.

New Mommy Must-Haves

11 Jun

When you’re about to have a baby, it seems that everyone has advise on what said baby needs to survive in the outside world. However, no one really talks about what the mommy will need to survive those first months of milky messes, dehydration, sleep depravation, and wardrobe malfunctions.

I managed to make it, as did so many of my friends before me, but as I watch my other friends who are becoming new moms struggle to perfect both their registries and homes in anticipation of their new arrival, I’ve decided to put a little list of mommy must-haves together. This is for you and your baby, because with the knowledge of these things in advance of having the baby, you will hopefully be a little more prepared, and you’ll be able to focus more on the importance of that new little lover. The list isn’t long, but I hope it’s helpful!

1. Water… all the time. WATER.

Keep Yourself Hydrated

Keep Yourself Hydrated

This was my number 1, most adored accessory (besides my new baby, of course). Brita’s individual water filtration system. I was/am a breastfeeder, which means that hydration is/was key for me to produce enough milk to nourish my baby. The biggest cause in my milk supply dips were typically related to how much water I was drinking. This thing saved me. You can fill it up anywhere and unlike a normal reusable water bottle, it doesn’t matter where the water comes from, it’s super easy to clean. It’s available at Target, or on Amazon. The replacement filters are available at either retailer as well. Super easy. No excuse to not be hydrated! I still use mine and love it.

2. Nursing Tanks

Keep 'em Comfy... and Available

Keep ’em Comfy… and Available

If you’re going to be a breastfeeding mama, you’re likely going to be living in a nursing bra of some sort for the next year or so. I wish I’d have been prepared for this. You will need to have access to your boobs ALL OF THE TIME, and sometimes at the worst time, plus your old sexy bras aren’t going to fit for a while. I found that the best and easiest way to be able to nurse in public (and even at home, in mixed company) was to wear a nursing tank under every other shirt I wore. Here’s the reason; when you have to nurse and you don’t want to be overly exposed on top, or show off your awesome new “tiger striped” (or flabby) belly on the bottom, the tank covers your tummy, and when worn underneath another shirt, you can lift the top layer up, and lower just the top part of the tank to feed your babe, allowing you to comfortable hide part of your breast with the top shirt, while totally accommodating your baby. I also found this extremely helpful when the weather was hot and the Hooter Hider was just too sweaty and clunky. I mean, don’t get me wrong. The hooter hider was awesome at first, but as soon as my baby decided that he didn’t like having fabric over his face, and could reach out and pull, there was no point. Buy nursing tanks. You will thank me.

Scoop Neck or Low Cut Tops/Comfy Bottoms

When we got home from the hospital, I struggled with not having a thing to wear, once the baby was out of my belly and in my arms. My very wrongfully dressed arms. I came home with a baby (and what looked like a 6 month pregnant, postpartum belly) and realized that it was too cold to wear tank tops middle of winter (in Los Angeles, but still). All of my long sleeve shirts were too high necked and I had a hard time feeding the baby without lifting my shirt and starting at my belly full of swollen tissue and bloat. I had to cut the necks off of long sleeved shirts, so that I had easy access to the “feeding station”, and so that the middle-of-the-night feedings weren’t a total cluster necessitating a clumsy, sleepy-eyed, wardrobe change. If you’re a winter birther, get some low necked tee’s or thermals, so you can stay warm. If you’re a summer mama, who cares. Live nekkid (or in cami’s). Additionally, your pre-preg pants will be too tight for a while, and you’ll be wearing your maternity jeans for longer than you probably expected as well. Make sure to be well stocked on comfy sweats (not tight pants right at first, or you’ll expose your fancy new under garments) or lounge/pajama pants. Shirts with a low neckline are also optimal for feeding baby when you’re home, or don’t care about exposure. Camisoles and V-neck T’s become a must.

“Granny” Panties

Comfy Matters

Comfy Matters

Because the kind you’re used to, just aren’t going to work for postpartum things. Thankfully, my older sister, Nadia (mother of 3), knew what I would need and made sure I had them on hand. She’s also supplied me with massage oils and other fun recovery items, and that was really great of her, but the big ol’ granny pants? Those saved me.

Nursing Pads/Mattress Pads/Washable Surface Pads

Most people know about nursing pads, but make sure you have a solid, waterproof (or milk proof) mattress pad on your bed as well. Some people (not mentioning names) can have REALLY high milk supplies in the early months and end up having to wash their sheets almost daily… Or just living in what feels like purgatory for a while, because you just can’t keep up with all that laundry, so you sleep in old milk. We co-slept and my babe would drool milk all night long, in addition to the spouts I found attached to my body, that had a mind of their own. I ended up cutting an old mattress pad up, sewing a sheet onto it, and creating my own “waterproof sheet”, which resembled a washable puppy pee pad. I put it on top of my regular bed sheets, and the baby and I just slept on that.   It’s much easier to toss in with other laundry, than it was to strip the bed everyday. I wish I’d have made it in advance, but then again, I probably wouldn’t have been so leaky if that were the case (Murphy’s Law loves me). Anyway, “water stains” automatically void your bed’s warrantee, so if that’s a thing for you and you want to have the ability to make a claim on your bed one day, should you develop a good “taco” in the middle from all the snuggling, KEEP IT SAFE.

A Flexible Mindset

Breastfeeding does not burn calories for everyone in the same way. Not everyone who breastfeeds (or exclusively pumps) will loose their baby weight by doing so. This is a fact. If you’re lucky enough to get back into your old clothes in the first few months of your baby’s life, god love ya. I’m still working on that 16 months later. Some of us just hold on to weight differently. I’m convinced that all of the crash dieting I did in my 20’s taught my body to hold on to every calorie it could, because it needed to feed someone else. It’s primal survival for your infant. Anyway, all of this to say, be flexible if things don’t go as you expect. It’s ok! Your baby needs your body to produce milk, not to lose weight. For me, every attempt at exercise or calorie cutting, negatively impacted my supply almost immediately. Not the case for everyone, but this was the case for me and that’s ok.

If you had something that was imperative to your early motherhood survival, leave it in the comments!

My Hot Bloggy Mess

5 Jun
One Hot Mess; A Linkup by The Fike Life.

One Hot Mess; A Linkup by The Fike Life.

I dream about blogging all day long. In fact, I have written hundreds I witty posts in my imagination that will never be remembered when I actually have the time to write them down.

In my head, I’m awesome. Hilarious. So entertaining. Helpful when help is needed, be it child-rearing advice (because I’m such an expert) or a bubble of laughter. I’m your blogger. You identify with me and I with you. I drink belinis every night as I sit on my porch overlooking the wilderness, computer on my lap, thoughtful gaze on my face. I make your life feel more understood, and well, we inspire each other’s Pinterest boards, because my photography of normal life’s events is just so amazing. I’ve always got my laundry done, my kitchen clean, my roots bleached, eyebrows waxed, bed made, dinner on the table by 5:30, and nightstands clear of glasses and tissues, and I still have time to make my husband feel like the rock of my fortress. Also, my perfect toddler naps for hours on end, and sleeps a perfect 12 hours at night, waking up no earlier than 7:00AM. Of course, I wake up an hour before my family (since my family is on a perfect and predictable sleeping schedule) and have time for “me” as I get ready for my day, showering away the perfectly unsweaty night’s sleep, sipping my cuppa’ coffee, all while preparing for another glorious day.

I am perfect. No, I’m not. 

Living in my wild imagination is pure bliss, but when you’re living in my body, it’s exactly the opposite.

This is my guest room... not that any guests could use it.

This is my guest room… not that any guests could use it.

Computer is still on the couch opened to work emails about motorcycles (yes I work with motorcycles) not all the blogs I’ve bookmarked “to read at some future date”, I don’t have a porch overlooking the wilderness (unless you call West Hollywood “wild”), I don’t know exactly what goes into a belini (just that I love them and have to pay $14 for them at any local restaurant – thanks, WeHo) and I have a house full of clean laundry begging to be put away, dirty laundry dying to be washed (lest my dogs pee on the pile again), dishes in the sink and bathroom needing to be scrubbed. Floors, oh the floors… wearing socks that accumulate the hair of my two dogs counts as “sweeping” right? I party all the time too, but those parties (like the one I just had) consist of cleaning out the fridge and finally cleaning up the sticky salad dressing that spilled on the top shelf two months ago. It’s a blast.

Hooray for reality, transparency and hot messes.

I can’t count on consistency in my family’s schedule, but I can count on the fact that no matter what… baby’s up. Gotta jam.

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