Social Beings

Sunday resulted in a bit of a breakdown for me. It had been a really long week, made worse by the fact that the Magical Non Sleeping Baby reappeared, and wanted to party for four hours in the middle of the night, and by party I mean scream her fool head off for four unrelenting hours. Night terrors, you know.

 

I’m also a person who needs some alone time, and If I can’t have that, I at least need quiet nonsocial time, and unfortunately, when your husband’s twin sister comes in town and she lives far away, you get lots of socializing, too much time with said sister in law and mother in law and an over-stimulated toddler who won’t go to sleep or nap or anything. That being said, they are fantastic, and they wanted Lis all the time.  That meant I actually was around Lis less this weekend than I usually am, which in some bizarre way, only aggravated the situation, because the times where she was with me, she was a hellion. Basically, I ended up feeling like a terrible parent for being relieved that Monday was coming and with it, daycare, and when I had the stupidity to open my mouth and say so, Vor promptly reminded me that Lis had spent lots of time with her grandma and her auntie that weekend, so why was I feeling that way, exactly?

 

Tears, I tell you.  There were lots of them, served with several side dishes of hurt feelings and anger.

 

Anyways, Monday was supposed to be FANTASTIC. I took the day off from work, I had a massage, a manicure, a pedicure, and a hair cut all lined up, compliments of my husband and a Christmas gifts. I was so excited.

 

So, of course Lis gets sent home from daycare in the morning, sick. SO much for that day. Sick babies are delightful too—when they’re not snuggling your with their cute sweaty bodies, they are howling in your ears with anger and frustration. I feel awful when she’s sick, so they day was nothing I expected. 

 

 

 

We all know what happens when a kid is sent home sick from daycare, right? RIGHT? Yes, that means Lis is out today too, though she seems fantastic today, all babbling and chatty and taking things (5 blankets, 6 stuffed animals, a large metal mixing bowl, all of her bibs and washcloths, and a scarf) into the closet and making a nest. Surprisingly, she’s been very intent on playing by herself, with limited need for my participation and approval, which is fantastic, since I really need to get work done.

 

The work? Well, that would be a social media presentation, detailing the various ways and networks and apps and actions your child can get themselves into all kinds of bizarre situations and trouble.  Lest you think that the correct answer is to withdraw from the world into a location that has no kind of wireless or cell service or anything at all (especially given my above noted tendency to need alone time), the answer is actually more engagement. Lots of talking, lots of checking, signing up for all the crazy things kids are doing yourself, and so on [I actually have lots to say on this, so a later post will have to do].

 

While Lis was napping, I was typing up the conclusion section about being engaged, etc., and I thought about the difference between this weekend and yesterday and today. Lis was bouncing around all weekend, spending lots of time with her grandma, and other family, and her auntie, as she should, since she doesn’t get to see Vor’s sister that often. But when we’re around all that family, although we are all busy socializing with each other and Lis with them, I kind of lose track of Lis. Lis and I operate much better when we are in tune, and spending lots of time together. When other people are there and she is interacting more with them, I seem to go off frequency from her, and then I have problems of frustration, resentment, etc.As much as I love and need the (generally) once a week breaks that Mama Vor provides in the form of a quick overnight (late evening drop off, early morning pick up), extended time like this past week doesn’t work well for our family right now.

 

It’s partly that, and it’s partly the fact that Lis is pretty high intensity for people other than us to handle right now that resulted in this decision: We are not leaving Lis for a few days and going to NYC. Instead, Vor and I will go down to Brown County (very pretty, mountains [sort of]) by ourselves for a night and rent a cabin, and Lis will arrive the next morning with Grams, and then the three of us will spend the rest of the long weekend together, just being social, quietly, together.

Two Funerals And A Wedding (And A Deployment)

Oh my hell. What a trip.

On Wednesday, a second cousin died. On Thursday, my cousin died. I flew out Saturday, in time to start baby sitting babies, because the second cousin had a child who got married on Saturday.

I babysat twins (TWINS THERE ARE TWO OF THEM) on Sunday while we geared up for my cousin's wake, and went to the wake of my second cousin.

On Monday, I babysat most of the time for the wake for my cousin. I snuck in time to (1) attend my cousin's wake, and (2) attend my second cousin's funeral.

Today is Tuesday, and I'm sitting in the airport with wine, desperate to see my husband and my baby.

My brother had flown in by chance-he has training for his deployment nearby. So the siblings three took the backstage role of general baby wranglers and got to spend some QT with each other.

We got very (VERY) tipsy Monday night, and a good time was had, even if the whole thing was tinged with sadness.

Fuck Cancer

I had a post going. It was taking shape, and I thought it was a good one. But then.

My day was moving along, busy as always, when I stopped for lunch.  I thought of Lis, and then I thought of the twins in her daycare, because that morning, one of them had run up to me and hugged me. Then I thought of my cousin who just had twins. Then I thought of her brother, also my cousin, who is dying from cancer.

He has lung cancer, and he never smoked a day in his life.  He was perfectly fine, healthy, hearty, and hale, but in the space of three hours, he was deathly sick, and within 24 hours, he was told he had a week to live. That was six months ago.

I called my parents. "How is J?" I asked.  "He just popped into my head. Heard anything new?"

Isn't that always how it works? I wish I hadn't called. It was like a psychic moment, I just KNEW as soon as he popped into my head that the answer to this was not going to be good. It wasn't good. He had come home, and not because he was doing okay.

That was yesterday. He was still alive. He died this morning, in his sleep, with his two children snuggled up in his bed with him. I think my heart broke in a way I didn't know was possible.

I found out at 10 am, and I had a HUGE grant presentation and pitch at 11 am.  I went into the office bathroom, cried, fixed my makeup, then marched myself to the presentation.  I stood up there, in front of waaaaay more people than I realized would be there, and had a moment just before it started--Why am I here. This is stupid. It doesn't matter. Don't cry. Don't cry. I pushed it back, and did it. I hope it was enough, because it does matter, even if in that moment I just wanted to tell them to just give us the money already, and I had something more important to be doing.

I busted my ass at work today, clearing the deck so I could be gone Monday and Tuesday for the funeral. I'm leaving Vor and Lis Saturday morning, returning Tuesday night, and I feel panicked, panicked at the thought of leaving her, panicked at the thought of an airplane, panicked at the thought that this can happen to you: when you're only forty years old, you can die from a cancer from a risky behavior you never did.

I just can't get that image of them, curled up with their dad, who wasn't there anymore.

Cue Cards

Scene: Last Saturday, at Vot's work party. Keep in mind, these are IP people.
Cast: Me, a partner, and bystanders (Vor, one other partner, newish associates)
Topic: Interview questions

Partner: Yeah, the guy seemed okay, but I really just wanted to ask that killer questions, the one that just gets to the ESSENCE of a person.

Me: You've found the ultimate question? For life, the universe, and everything?

Partner: YES. Star Wars, or Lord of the Rings?

(I inhale my wine, laughing)

Partner: Let see if I would have hired you, Grace. Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?

Me: If it's just me, I'm going to watching Lord of the Rings.  That being said, I CANNOT wait to show my daughter Star Wars.  It's opening up an entire universe to her in a way Lord of the Rings doesn't. To put it simply, Lord of the Rings is clearly a clearly superior trilogy all round, but Star Wars has the untouchable classic status.

Parter: Hired.

End scene.

The Hypothetical (Normal) Child

A friend of mine from college sent out an email the other day.  She works full time, is considering going back to school, and she and her husband want a baby.  She wanted to know what we all thought—some of us who have older kids, having had them either in college or right afterwards, some who don’t have kids, some who are pregnant with no kids, and some of us in the trenches of poop and vomit and newly mobile babies who get sick all the time from daycare. 

The responses ranged from “YAYAYAYAYAY BAAAAAABIES!” to “OMG NO.”  One girl and I were silent on the whole email chain.  Her baby is only 4 months younger than Lis, and we are the only two who are lawyers, working full time at notoriously stressful jobs, like the original email sender, with young children.  The rest have older kids, or not yet born kids, or no kids. 

Obviously, our silence went noticed, and she eventually asked—what about you two? What do you think?  I held my breath, then put on my big girl panties, and waded in.

The actual living breathing child is always worth it, even when so you’re frustrated you want to cry and scream and throw things.  That child will always be worth it, and you will always love him or her.  The hypothetical child is another question.  The hypothetical child gives you none of the “benefits” (smiles, hugs, and snuggles), and all you can see is the struggle.  That struggle is very real, and even more so when the hypothetical child becomes the actual one.  Your schedule, your life will be disrupted in ways you can’t possibly imagine.  So, in my opinion, there’s never a good time to become a parent, because it’s always inconvenient.  It’s never worth it, until the hypothetical child is a real one.  Then all of a sudden, it is. 

Well, you can imagine how that went over.  Perhaps I should set aside my crazy career and bask in the glory of being a stay at home mom and be all things to all people, but especially all things to my daughter.  Perhaps I am selfish.  Perhaps I am a terrible person for even suggesting something like this.  Perhaps I am a terrible mother for not loving every minute of this.  Perhaps I am a disgrace to working mothers, since I obviously can't handle this grace and aplomb. Perhaps I should never utter a complaint about working and being a mom, because I am doing a disservice to feminism.

Perhaps I need another child, a sibling for Lis, to—I don’t know what the point of that suggestion was.  To make me more humble? Embrace motherhood? Give Lis a sibling? Make things easier because there is a playmate?  I’m really not sure.

Actually, the whole conversation after that didn’t bother me, because, whatever.  I’m not judging their choices—it’s great that they feel that way about being a parent.  That works for them and their family.  This is what works for me and mine.  SO, mommy wars, whatever.  It honestly didn’t bother me.

What bothers me is the suggestion of a second child.  Now that Lis is over one, I’ve been getting that suggestion quite a bit.  That bugs the hell out of me.  I’m not ready.  Vor’s not ready.  Maybe we never will be ready.  That, other people of the world, is none of your business. 

But, by way of a PSA, let me explain something to you, the public at large who may or may not be reading this.  If you say something to the effect of “When are you having another?” and you either get no response, a vague one, or a response indicating “never” or “not any time soon,” That is your stopping point.  By way of a further PSA, if you know the person well, and you know that the babyhood was hellish for some reason—bad pregnancy, horrific birth, surgery on an infant, never sleeping screaming colicky baby, NEVER say anything to the effect of “That wasn’t normal! It will be normal next time! It won’t happen again!”

Normal.  Normal.  Normal.  When you say stuff like that, that’s all that rings in my ears.  The echo of the ringing sounds something like this: Not normal. Abnormal.  You’re not normal.  She’s not normal.  Not right.  All wrong.  And then, for the final kicker: INVALID. 

Listen. I get it’s not too likely that will have another cranio kid.  I get that not all babies have such major sleep issues. Every parent out there of a “not normal” child or experience gets that too. But that is OUR NORMAL.  That is my life, and that is what is normal in my life.  You don’t get to invalidate my fears and my experience and my life with a wave of your hand and the use of the phrase “not normal.”  So when you tell me that I should have another kid, and not worry, because things will be normal this time, I kind of want to take your head and rub your nose in my experience until your face is absolutely steeped in the terror and exhaustion of the whole thing.  Normally (NORMALLY) I would not wish what I did on my worst ENEMY, but by saying that, you almost take yourself to a whole new level of worst enemy.   When you tell me I should have another kid, and not to worry, because things will be normal, you sound like an insensitive idiot who needs a good dose of reality and what is actually normal in the world.

When you tell me my life is not normal, you tell me it's invalid. It's not invalid. My experiences aren't invalid.  They make up a decent percent of the population, and it's normal for that percentage too. 

You don't get to tell me that that my life isn't normal--it's my life, and it's my normal, and I'm not ready for any more normal right now, hypothetical or otherwise.

The Russians Are Coming

I spent yesterday totally immersed in child molestation cases and the CPS/criminal case that came out of them. It sucked. Fortunately, I got to end the day on a lighter note, presenting to a group of 3^rd-4^th graders at a local public school. I go to three public schools once a month, and present on different law topics. Generally, I avoid my area of law since (a) its boring to anyone outside it and (b) these ARE kids, and at least some of them are likely in the system, and they get enough of that in their home life, thankyouverymuch. So one month was animal law, then it was sports law, and then movie law, and this week, it’s laws in and about national parks.
 

For the most part, it’s about creating national parks, and what you can do in them, and federal law, blah blah blah. But I have a section on weird state laws that apply in the national parks. Did you know that in Indiana, it’s illegal to catch a fish with your bare hands without a permit? Alrighty then. Also, in Alaska, it’s illegal to push a live moose out of a moving airplane. I’m glad someone told me, I might have accidentally done that. In Arizona, cutting down a cactus can be punishable by 25 years in prison. I’m sure some of these edge closer to urban legend line, though I did look them up, and there are lots of exceptions, and’s, and or’s, but there you have it. NO CACTUS FOR YOU.
 

Also very cool about my job today was meeting with a delegation from the Russian equivalent of the department of child services. Yeah, that’s right. The Russians came to my office, and I got to tell them about our program and how the Indiana DCS is set up and the non profits that back it up. I got to learn about their system as well. We were talking for two hours, and it was really great. It was awesome. I can’t even tell you how TOTALLY FREAKING COOL it was.
 

They were amazed at two things about our system—(1) the fragmentation, both between the states and within the states and (2) the volunteers. From what they were telling me, volunteerism is not really a concept that has caught on in Russia, and instead, there are government agencies that employ massive amounts of people to take care of things that volunteer agencies take care of here. They were amazed that my nonprofit and DCS do similar work—apparently, there are NO nonprofits in Russia that overlap with what the government does. They were in turn baffled by our system—there’s us, on the civil end of things, and then there’s CPS, and there’s DCS, and there’s the foster care system, and there’s the residential treatment facilities, and so on. All these systems, although they work together, are separate. Not so in Russia—it’s all one massive department.
 

I’ve never taken a single Russian language class. My language was (is) French. I have always known that I had a gift for language, and to this day, I kick myself for not doing that in college instead of English/Biology/Psychology. I lived in Finland for summer, and by the time I left, I could get by. I spent three weeks in Germany, and in that time, I learned enough that I could get myself unlost and find the bathroom or whatever. Even as I was sitting there, listen to them and the translator, I quickly got “yes”, “no”, “child”, “government”, “money”, and “thank you”, as well as a few others. I miss languages. I miss having time to learn and read them, and I miss being able to flip on the TV or radio in another language and just listen. I would love to go audit a class at one of the local colleges in another language, but I barely have time for a ten minute workout right now.
 

Well. Maybe someday. Until then--Do svidaniya!

In Which Grace Displays Her Loss Of Mind

The Grace court decided that writing this book [prospective publication date of 2014] can be extremely depressing at times, especially when working on Chapter 10 [Sexual Abuse and Child Molesting]. Id. at 1298. See also In Re Paternity of Poor Kid Who Has Craptastic Parents Who Beat The Hell Out of Her, 123 N.E.2d 456 (Ind. 2013) (holding that these parents sucked and the trial court was totally right in terminating their rights, go away and stop appealing this case, no you can’t have transfer to the U.S. Supreme Court, don’t you know anything about how this works).

 

The Court opined that I, Grace, am fantastic for coming up with another word besides stated or held, and that opined is a really great word to describe what they are doing in their opinion. Grace the Fantastic v. The Evil Publication Taking Over Her Life, 789 N.E.2d 123 (Ind. Ct. App. 2013); but see In Re Grace Loses All Memory of How to Bluebook, 456 N.E.2d 789 (Ind. 2013) (noting that Grace totally forgot how to use contra, infra, and supra, and started making this shit up).

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Obviously, this Deskbook that we are writing and publshing has invaded my brain.