lawmummy

Today marked the second day that Katie missed her "Me Museum."  She was devastated and cried for much of the morning that she wanted to go to school.  We gave her a couple of chances to prove that she could manage but the poor girl was so tired, she couldn’t even get up off of the sofa to get dressed (a feat that she is normally eager to do ).  She begged and pleaded to go.  It was heartbreaking.

I emailed her teacher about the "Me Museum" and she graciously agreed to extend Katie’s time so that she got her full week, which is very important to Katie.  If all goes well, the "Me Museum" starts tomorrow.

Chris claims that she is feeling much better this evening.  I wouldn’t know.  I went to a board meeting at 5:00 p.m. and did not get home until almost 10:00 p.m.  Ay carumba.

On the plus side, Amy was thrilled to have her sister home for a little bit more.  Amy is a riot these days…  After she argued with her sister, Katie smacked her.  Amy then replied, "You can’t hit me, Katie, I am very special."  Continuing her assessment of her own specialness, she hugged Charlie this morning and told me, "I am very nice."  Indeed she is.  She’s also quite a chatterbox, sometimes not quite getting the words just right.  She told Super Nanny and me, "I’m having duck for dinner."  We were stunned.  And then we sorted out that she meant, "Duck and I are having dinner."  She’d never give up Duck. 

A little ramble-ly, I know.  Sorry.  I’m tired.  It’s been a long day.  Did I mention tired?  I have a long day tomorrow.  And I was soooo disappointed to get home from my meeting in time to catch "Top Chef" and then realize it was only Tuesday, not Wednesday.  I was stuck with "My Boys" instead; I don’t know if I like it or not.

And I’m losing my hair.  Post-pregnancy hormones?  Winter?  Rare tropical balding disease?  Not sure yet. 

Still rambling.  Going now.  And no, I’m not drinking (but I sure wish I was).

I just feel compelled to say that Bob Kearns is an idiot. 

Mr. Kearns ordered this wreath taken down since it was potentially "divisive."  And, three or four residents (whew!) complained about it, one or more apparently saying that it was "a symbol of Satan."  Right, you remember that photo of Satan with a Santa cap on (wait a minute, as I was typing, I just realized that Santa and Satan have the same letters… maybe Mr. Kearns is onto something…)

You can read the whole sad story here.

If he had the balls to stick with his committee’s decision, I would understand.  But he fired the whole damn committee?  Tell me that’s not someone with an agenda.

You go, Lisa Jensen!  I say keep the wreath up until August! 

A little tired today (see earlier) so today’s Top Ten Monday is more a list of numerically-related objects that relate to the long weekend than a true top ten.  It’s the best I could do. 

And I missed Green Thumb Sunday, sorry, I was violently ill.  Blech again.

1:  Number of dresses that I made over the weekend.  Yep, I whipped up a little A-line Strawberry Shortcake dress for Amy.  She loves it.  It was fun to make.  I bought it on Fabric Row while with my mother; I also bought some faux fur to make pillows.  The faux fur was $19.95 for a yard (I only bought one).  Mom nearly had a heart attack when she heard how "expensive" it was.

2:  A tie:  The number of times I had to shower Katie today (though one actually involved mass quantities of finger paints and her sister) and the number of meat dishes that Chris bought for Thanksgiving dinner.  There was some confusion over the cell phone while he was at the market on Wednesday so he bought a turkey and a ham.  It’s all good:  we have no turkey left.  Really.

3:  Also a tie: The number of people that I brought up on Thanksgiving that managed to annoy my father (his mother, his aunt and my ex sister-in-law) and the number of times that I changed pajamas Saturday night after being ill.

4:  Days remaining in Katie’s "Me Museum" week.  At school, they have a whole week dedicated to each student, where the student brings in items to share so that the other kids can learn more about them.  Katie has been dreaming, begging and crying for this week for ages…  And she missed the first day of it because she was ill. 

5:  Number of cheeses that I bought at DiBruno’s for Thanksgiving Dinner:  Brin D’Amour (one of Chris’ favorites), Feta, Fresh Mozarella (for salad), Mascarpone (for tiramisu) and Raschera.  And this brings up one of those tricky little things that you can file away about me…  I am not a shopper.  I do not own a lot of shoes.  I have one expensive purse and it was a gift.  I do not own any diamonds (really).  I do not live in an expensive house.  I do not spend money on a lot of things.  But I am a sucker for spending my money on three things:  travel, food and my kids.  And so, when I cook, I do like to buy nice items.  What’s the point of processed cheese, if not on a cheesesteak or nachos?

6:  The number of loads of laundry that I had done before 1pm today.  I think I have, by now, washed everything in my house that does not move.  We are really close to being germ-free.

7:  The hour at which two of my three children were asleep this evening.  It was short-lived.

8:  The number of coloring books currently on the floor of our family room.  I have some serious cleaning up to do.

9:   The hour by which Chris and I were finished with our dinner out and dessert out (at two separate places) on Saturday.  My fabulous friends took the girls overnight on Saturday and Super Nanny watched Charlie for a few hours.  We mangled our dinner plans, the place we planned on having cocktails was having a concert so no go, our new dinner plans were moved up as a result to much earlier than we hoped - and I threw up a few hours later.  Nonetheless, it was a delightful evening.  It was nice to chat with Chris without having a child hanging on me.  He’s an entertaining guy.

10:  Number of people that I thought would show up for the church coffee hour on Sunday (it was my Sunday to bring stuff).  I was wrong.  There were closer to thirty, which is good on the one hand but not so good on the other.  I was sick, so I sent Chris out for pastries at Cafe Roma; he, of course, bought for how many folks I told him to buy for which was too few.  And I wasn’t used to the coffee maker so the coffee wasn’t great.  And did I mention (again) that I was sick?

If you’ve ever spent your morning trying to convince a toddler to let you wash the vomit out of her hair, while trying not to vomit yourself, you’ll understand why the posting has been sporadic for the last couple of days…

My brother is on his way, parents to arrive shortly for the holidays. I am woefully unprepared. Those of you who know me well will not be surprised to learn that the day before Thanksgiving, I have not

• cleaned my bathroom
• vacuumed any inch of my house
• sent an email to my in-laws to bring more chairs
• bought a turkey
• settled on a menu

I have, however, managed to drink half of a cup of coffee by 1pm on a Wednesday, so things are looking up.

I’ll be at the Philadelphia Thanksgiving Parade tomorrow, then home for dinner.

Enjoy the day with your families! I’m sending out good vibes to all.

My holiday advice (cause, what kind of holiday would it be without someone like me pretending to know it all?):

• Eat all you want. It’s the holiday. The calories will take care of themselves later.
• Don’t listen to your parents. Your hair is fine. You haven’t gained weight. And your kids are well-behaved.
• Nothing has to look perfect. Nobody can do it all; Martha Stewart has a huge staff to put things together, so don’t feel like you have to do it by yourself.
• If you’re hosting at your house, let folks do things on their own. You don’t have to entertain everybody every minute of the day. That’s why God made TiVo and Netflix.
• Don’t yell at anybody for watching football on Thanksgiving. Yes, it counts as family time if you want it to. My girls love to cheer on the Eagles (though, sadly, there’s not much reason to this season, sob, sob), they love a reason to yell and jump without being scolded. And some of the players are cute. Why not pull up a chair?
• It is not Christmas. You need not get all of your shopping done on Friday (hell, I don’t get anything done before December). For God’s sake, have a martini, put your feet up.
• It’s Thanksgiving. Despite the looniness, don’t forget to be thankful…

I will post sporadically throughout the holidays… If your crazy uncle
gets on your nerves too much, check in on me. Maybe I’ll have
something clever to say. Maybe I’ll be available to Skype. Or maybe
I’ll post some photos of a half-cooked turkey. Either way, it’s worth
the click, no?

I figured I’d take a moment out of my whining to reflect on the things that I am really thankful for during this holiday season.  So, today’s top ten is my list of those things:

1. My children are beautiful and healthy.
2. My brother is back from sea and coming to my house for Thanksgiving!
3. The elections.
4. This is going to sound a little odd, but I am really thankful to live in Philadelphia.  I have been fortunate enough to travel to a lot of places over the years, from my little hometown in rural North Carolina to such destinations as Rome, Singapore and London.  And while I love many of the places that I’ve traveled to (the food is amazing in San Juan, the people are divine in Cardiff, the architecture is breathtaking in Prague…), nothing has compared to that feeling that I had the first time that I visited Philly.  It felt like… home.  The people in Philadelphia are just so real, there is no pretention.  You get what you see.  The weather is great - all four seasons!  The history, the culture, the arts, the restaurants - so much to see and do in this fabulous city.  Maybe we don’t have any recent championships to brag about (and there go our hopes this year for the Eagles) but there is just so much to be proud about and love about this wonderful place that I am lucky enough to call home.  I am thankful to have found such an amazing city to make my home and raise my children.
5. Sewing.  It’s something that I used to have fun doing, and I haven’t had the opportunity to do it for a bit.  After I made the girls’ costumes, I decided to pick up some additional fabric and patterns.  I just finished a pillowcase and duvet cover for Charlie’s room and psst, it was really fun.
6. Good friends.  I know it’s cliche.  But I do have really, really good friends.  My friends Madeline and Suzanne have just been awesome, not only to me but to my kids; not a day goes by that my girls don’t ask about them.  And it’s so nice to have friends that I can trust with my children, and feel good about, knowing that my girls genuinely enjoy their company.  I do, too.  I am fortunate enough to work with Madeline.  She listens to me complain about the RDC and gripe about the stupid accounts receivable department at Sports Illustrated that can’t seem to get it together for a silly magazine subscription renewal (and um, newsflash, it’s their job).  She’s been a great back-up for me since Charlie’s been born.  I could not have managed without her.  And I have so many other good friends - Chelle, who I never see anymore but love dearly, and Bren who has moved "to the sun" and I miss all of the time.  And Court, Trin and Malis, who helped me find myself a little bit when I was in college.  And Roxy, Agnes and Ginny, the finest women in the entire history of NCSSM, who are just so great and so brave - Roxy is living in Atlanta following her dreams (how cool is that?), Ginny just became a mom again and is now becoming an activist (who would have guessed?) and Agnes is making her mark being a big deal marketer (she has you under her spell) and is still so cool to hang out with.  And my group of friends here, like Rana who I owe drinks, and Darree who walks with me on Tuesdays (I know, I should be in bed now, I have to get up at 5:30am tomorrow), and Angel, Ee-Lin and Sue, and all of my other mom friends from the ‘hood…  And my "twin", Kristin who is the only person that I would let dress me (and that includes my mother)…  And my virtual friends, you bloggers and blog-readers, many of whom I have come to know so well…  You see what I mean?  Damn lucky.
7. My garden.  I love to dig around in the dirt.  And read gardening books, and watch gardening shows (that Matt James is such a cutie).  And shop at garden shops.  And did I mention the digging?
8. Football.  Yeah, the Eagles are sooo out of it this season, but doesn’t Tom Brady just make you a little giddy?  Just a little?
9. Opportunities to be involved.  It’s contagious, I think, this idea that one person can make a difference in the world.  I am so thankful to be able to chase those things that I think matter and hopefully, make the world a little better place.  Remember, it was Margaret Mead who said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world…"
10. My husband.  Yes, even more cliche than good friends.  But also just as true.  He is, as I’ve posted before, not about sparks and flash.  We have very little in common.  And he is not perfect.  He is, however, the very best thing in my life.  And even though he drives me crazy from time to time (must he rearrange the dishes in the dishwasher after I load it? ), I am, as Amy would say "ABSOLUTELY" thankful for him.

It’s Green Thumb Sunday!

And, as I’m in a funk, I felt the need to post a funky picture.  This is a photo of one gaillardia that I planted this spring - obviously with a bit of photo-trickery to manipulate the light so that the colors pop. 

Gaillardia are sometimes called blanket flowers, and I can see why - mine propogated fairly quickly and the blooms were spectacular.  They’re perennials and I was told they were short-lived.  I was told wrong.  Mine started blooming in spring, and now, as most everything else has died out, it remains, along with my mums and Sweet Kate (which I’ll confess I bought only because of the name - to make Katie happy while we were at the nursery - and turned out to be a fabulous plant).

Gaillardia are great plants; they live through drought (in fact, there are many native to parts of the southwest), cool weather (also many in the northeast), bugs, rain, you name it.  And the coloring is phenomenal - there are many shades of red but I was partial to this one.  It looked amazing near the echinacea; reds, pinks and purples together in the garden are just such a lovely combination.

If you’re combing through your gardening catalogs this time of year, give them a second glance.  You just can’t beat ‘em.

I am, to put it mildly, a little dispirited. 

Earlier this year, I finished my first novel.  Now granted, it’s not Hemingway.  It won’t change the world.  It is not a breakthrough in the annals of American fiction.  But I thought it was pretty good.

Since summer, I’ve been querying publishers and agents.  A few actually expressed interest and were sent some variation of my synopsis and partial manuscript.  Of those that received more than a simple query letter, I have not heard anything in return.  Well, until today.

I was rejected by an agent.  And it wasn’t one of those simple, "Sorry, too busy" or "Not my style" rejections.  It was a full, in your face, you stink rejection.  Among the jewels in my rejection letter, "I ultimately concluded that your writing was not strong enough…" and "I found the opening slow and disjointed."

You see, I’m okay with the vanilla rejections because I can twist it any way that I want in my head.  But this one?  This one says pretty clearly, "You suck."  And that is tough to take.

When I was younger, I wrote all of the time.  I had journals and journals filled with story ideas, poetry and the like.  In college, I transitioned to mostly angst-y poems and what I thought were cleverly written research papers; I also edited two sections of two separate newspapers (one, a school paper, the other, a local paper).  It was great fun.  It was, however, never anymore because my parents spent a great deal of time convincing me that writing was a dead-end job.  I should, they thought, focus on something a little more practical.

Law school was a natural next step for me.   I wanted to get out of my small town.  I had great academic credentials, I tested fairly well and my writing skills were (I thought) good enough to pass muster in the legal world.  And I was right.  My ability to put my thoughts on paper saved me more than once - to this day, I know nothing about Evidence but managed to bluff well enough to pass the course.  And while I still don’t understand why you can’t park a ship in the channel if it breaks down, I did okay on my Maritime Law exam.

I missed writing after law school.  Sure, I did lots of technical writing in the legal profession but ultimately coming up with a clever tax apportionment clause didn’t yield the same satisfaction as finishing a good story or putting a good poem on paper.  So, I started to write again.  My friend, Kristin, gave me a great notebook for my dabblings and I jotted away night and day.

Last year, I got serious enough to write that novel I’ve been meaning to write - the one based on the story of my first big legal case, the one that I always told at cocktail parties.  With three kids, a legal career and a lot else going on, it took me a year to finish.  But I did finish.  And I edited.  And I edited some more.

About halfway through the process, my mom sent me a couple of books, including one from my favorite columnist from back home, Celia Rivenbark.  The book was a collection of essays about Southern life.  And Mom wrote a note in the book that said that she hoped I would follow my dream and become a writer.

This year, as I thought about my life and the direction it was headed, I realized I didn’t want to die and have my whole life be that I was a lawyer (yes, this is because I read the obituaries, it’s a sickness).  I wanted to be able to say that I followed my dream.

So I did.  I wrote that book that my friends have always told me to write.

I didn’t expect to have agents falling over themselves to hire me.  But I didn’t expect to be told that I sucked either.  It’s not a good feeling.  And quite frankly, I’m not really sure what to make of it.  Mostly, it just makes me a little sad.  And disappointed.  And filled with more than a little bit of self-pity.

I knew it was going to be a tough week when I spent the majority of the weekend in fits over the possibility of ruining Katie’s social life forever if something happened to the Pre-K guinea pig.  You’d think it would be impossible to harm a guinea pig, but with two toddlers with an over-fascination with said guinea pig and a dog that doesn’t listen, it was a challenge to keep the guinea pig in his cage and out of harm’s way.  Fortunately, we did it.

And then scheduling overload hit:  client meetings, a presentation at the Pennsylvania Bar Estate Law Institute, board meeting, launch of my new tax blog (and related agita, which I’ll spare you), planning Katie’s teddy bear picnic, coordinating two business community events for next week, Charlie’s check-up (he’s terrific but he didn’t love his shots)…  Combine that with Thanksgiving dinner plans (cast of thousands, my house), Katie’s class dinner plans (thankfully, we’re only doing drinks) and various other personal matters…

The result?  Well, really tired, for one.  I tried to put baby formula in the coffee pot this morning (yes, you read right, it said formula - I’m not expressing for Charlie while Super Nanny has him on occasion, no apologies); I suspect that wouldn’t have enough kick.  I’m approximately 20,000 words behind on my NaNoWriMo.  My house is a wreck:  I’m pretty sure that something reached out and grabbed me as I walked by a pile of laundry in my house high enough to hide several families.  I have no Thanksgiving menu planned, nor have I done any shopping.  Based on what I have in the cupboard, I’m forced to develop some kind of casserole with Cheerios, canned tuna and black olives - either that or I’ll have to go to the supermarket at midnight to actually buy a turkey.

Amy has decided all week that she must be in Halloween costume at all times; she is, at any given moment, dressed as a frog or lion, roaring or hopping around the house.  When she takes off the lion costume, she spend about 20 minutes asking me why she doesn’t have a tail anymore…

Katie and I are at odds all day long, every day.  Whatever happened to my cute little girl?  She’s been replaced with a four year old who thinks she’s eighteen.  She informed me earlier in the week that unless I bring the baby to school, she wants her dad to pick her up.  She refused to let me pack her lunch this morning ("I can do it myself") and then got agitated when I insisted that she needed more than applesauce and a plum.  She added a can of chickpeas and a tupperware full of olives.  I said no.  Yelling ensued.  And her wardrobe?  Forget about me helping in the morning ("I can do it myself") - you’d think she was wearing a costume all day…  Wednesday’s ensemble was particularly enjoyable:  a salmon striped long sleeved rugby short over which she wore a handpainted "Big Sister" tee shirt a few sizes too big; salmon capri pants with fringe and brown suede ankle boots with flowers.

I’ve seen the other parents at Katie’s school.  I am sure that they are convinced that she’s being raised by wolves.  Those other kids match and have their permission slips in on time.  My kid looks like a homeless Betsey Johnson and her lunches are something straight out of a 1960s hors d’oeuvres party…  All she needs now are little toothpicks with those plastic flags on top (and trust me, if we owned them, she’d probably pack them).

It was also particularly enjoyable when, after teaching my seminar on Wednesday and finding myself without Chris (who was in a five hour meeting), I vetoed cooking in favor of the diner.  There, Katie ordered a turkey platter - she ate the whole damn thing and then some, so I’m not quibbling - but while waiting, she grew angry and started yelling "I’m hungry!" at the waitstaff because they were being slow.  I was mor-tee-fied.  I could not make her stop.  All of the threats, etc., meant nothing.  Grr…  (Yes, that is steam coming out of my ears.)  Prior to that, she had been humming and writing music notes, her latest confusing behavior - does she know what she’s doing?  Is she actually writing music?  She hits a beat on the page for each music note…  When I told her that was my favorite drawing, she promptly scribbled through it and ripped the edges.  Again, whatever happened to my cutie pie?

Sigh.  When I don’t feel like killing her, she is pretty darn cute.  I realized that I forgot to post Halloween photos of the costumes.  Check in later today…

Some of you may know that I’ve been gearing up for the launch of my new tax blog… Well, it has officially happened!  If you have a second, take a peek!  And if you have a tax question that you want answered, you can ask the taxgirl.

Enjoy!