“Name your hero and why?”

“Who do you look up to and why?”

“Describe a person who has influenced you and how their influence affected your life.”

We’ve all seen these questions before. They’re on college applications and in job interviews and the like. I have never been able to answer these questions. Up until recently, I’ve never had a “hero” or “influential person” that I could write/talk about. I think it’s because I’ve always done my own thing. I’ve never quite had anyone that I wanted to emulate or “grow up to be.”

Does that make me self-centered. You may think so, but I don’t. It’s never been an “I’m better than everyone” thing for me. I’ve seen people’s accomplishments and thought, “good for them.” There’s just never been a “I want to be just like her” or “meeting this person made me want to do this with my life.” I just never had it.

I’ve generally just gone with the flow of things. I graduated high school and went to college, because that’s what I was going to do. I majored in psychology, because it seemed interesting. I decided to go to law school because I didn’t want to go to grad school for psychology. Ok. Decided to work for the state as a prosecutor because I am passionate about it. Fine. Got married, had a kid. It was the right time for me.

Me. Me, Me. Ok, so maybe a little self-centered. But all through my educational years, I never encountered someone that I looked up to as a hero, etc. Well, I had actually, but I didn’t realize it until later.

Now, married, a toddler running around, and working for over a year and a half, I can honestly say that there are two women who I look up two. The first is a judge I had the pleasure of appearing before. She had two young children and was able to run her courtroom in such a way that she didn’t have to miss any of their important events. She had the support of fellow judges in that she could find coverage if she had a family emergency or a doctors appointment to attend. Brava. It is possible to be in my line of work and be present for your children. That is a goal of mine. I want to be around. I am happy to have had that influence in my life to keep me going and to know that, yes, I can have a family and my chosen career.

The second woman is someone that I knew from birth. My Nana (maternal grandmother). This is interesting for me. She and I used to butt heads. She was a very strong willed woman. Small, and dark, like you’d picture most Sicilian women, she had a fiery temper and vivacious personality to match. It wasn’t until I was older, married, a mother, and working until I realized exactly what kind of influence she was.

My nana could do everything and anything. Give her a sewing machine and she could whip out a formal gown. Not kidding. She made my mom’s prom dress. A dress that was so beautiful in it’s simplistic design, and so well made that I was able to wear the same exact dress to my senior year homecoming dance. She made Halloween costumes for my sisters and I for years. She even made clothes for our Barbie dolls when we got bored of what we had.

Put her in a kitchen and she could feed an army with the most delicious food you’d ever tasted. She was a natural in the kitchen. Cooking and baking. It was so easy for me. I used to watch her in the kitchen and not think anything of it. It’s what she did. I was fortunate enough to pick up some things from her in the kitchen, but I didn’t get the full education I now wish I could have.

That woman did everything in the house. Her level of functioning was unbelievable. When I started undergrad, my school was only about 15 minutes from her house. I used to go over there all the time. I even spent the night a few times. I remember one time I spent the night, I got up at 9 or 10 (the normal time for college freshman) and she had already washed the clothes I had worn the night before, washed both cars, made breakfast for her and my nano, left some for me, cleaned the kitchen and god only knows what else. It totally blew my mind.

It’s not that I never appreciated her when I was younger. It’s just that my perspective changed after I had a family of my own to look after. I know that I will never be able to be like her. There is no way that I can do all of the things that she could do. But now, I strive for that. I have an idea in my head of what I want to be like. For the first time in my life.

In my line of work, I hear quite a few excuses on a daily basis.

“I can’t get a valid license because I can’t pay all 10 of these delinquent tickets.”

“I didn’t know my license was suspended.”

I can’t afford an attorney (even though I haven’t looked or spoken to anyone to determine the cost of a private defense attorney.”

“It wasn’t my car.”

“My client will lose his/her job if he/she enters this plea.”

You get the idea. The last one really irritates me. I deal with a lot of DUIs. Most of my cases are DUIs. If I had a nickel for every time I heard from a defense attorney that their client will lose their job if they enter the plea to the DUI, I’d be able to get a soda out of the machine. A bottle, not just a can, that’s how many nickels I’d have. Those sodas are expensive now, you know. However, all we have at work are Pepsi machines, they got rid off all the Coke machines. Which strikes me as odd, but I do have access to Dr. Pepper, which makes me happy. But I digress…

I recently had a defense attorney request a reduction based on the fact that he defendant was a sports coach at a high school. That irritated me more than most of the “but he’s gonna lose his job,” arguments. I took a very objective view when I reviewed the case, but the defendant looked terrible on video & admitted to having had too much to drink. Now, what’s the best course for this guys student athletes? One, give him the reduction and let this be a lesson that even though you really screw up, if you’re an influential person in the community, you can get away with it. Or two, hey kids, if you screw up and endanger your lives and the lives of the general public, there will be consequences, accept them and learn your lesson. I don’t care if this guy loses his job. If his getting fired teaches one kid that there are consequences to his actions, then it was worth something.

Should I be more concerned about the coach losing his job over a DUI than a single parent with three kids losing her job for the same charge. What about the underage college student that has a parent who went to school with the defense attorney and he’s doing a favor? Should I treat that review any differently? Regardless of whether you think I should, I don’t. People make decisions every day. Good, or bad, they make them. People make mistakes. I’ve made mistakes. Working in the Juvenile justice system, I learned that I could have been arrested several times for things as benign as hoping the fence of the school we lived by to play on the playground equipment on the weekends. I do put myself in the position of the defendants at times. What would I think if I were facing these penalties? Then I remember, I wouldn’t have put myself in that situation to begin with. I’m not saying I’m perfect. Far from it, just that I try to make good decisions, and I usually do.

This brings me to the second request I had to deal with recently that just irritated the hell out of me. I worked out a deal with a defense attorney for a jail sentence. The defendant had months to consider and an attorney to discuss it with. At a court date prior to the holidays, the defendant accepted the offer and decided to take the jail sentence as long as he could enter the plea after the holidays. Fine. That happened a lot in December. Well, his court date was this week, I was expecting a very easy plea and turn in. Apparently that was asking too much. A month had gone by since the defendant decided to accept the agreement.

After that month, the defense attorney came to me asking if the defendant could “do weekends” or reduce the time so he doesn’t lose his job. Ugh. He had a month to make arrangements. One month. Then I get the, “he has kids to support” argument. That pissed me off. Not because I think the kids should suffer by not having their dad around, but because he should have thought about that before he broke the law. It’s just an excuse. I can’t imagine that he is that terribly concerned about his kids if he’s going out with no regard for the law and doing whatever he wants to do.

This is where I put myself in his shoes. On the one hand, losing my job and being away from my son for any period of time would be unbearable. However, every time I look at my little boy, I couldn’t fathom doing anything that would or could jeopardize him. That’s where good decision making comes into play. This isn’t a case of someone shoplifting formula to feed a baby, this is a marijuana case. I have no sympathy for this defendant. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

So, in short, make good decisions. If you don’t, be prepared to accept the consequences and leave the excuses at home. Those of us that the excuses are aimed at influencing aren’t buying it. Grow up.

Ahhh, boobies. Mine are riridiculous. Ri-goddamn-diculous. They have been for a while – this isn’t a new development. What brought the bitchfest blog post on, is the debilitating headache that I’ve had for two straight days. Headaches aren’t new for me either. I carry a lot of my tension in my shoulders. I don’t do it on purpose, just one of those things. Because my boobs are rather large and heavy, the weight from the bra strap puts pressure on my shoulders, thus releasing evil tension toxins into my body. The pain from my shoulders goes up my neck and into my head. Most of the time, it stops there, and I just have a tension headache all day. No big deal. I can deal with those. What really sucks is when the tension headache turns into a migraine. Like it did yesterday. Then it lingers for a couple days and the slightest thing will set it off again. i spent two days straight with the lights in my office turned off doing work. While it is rather peaceful, the nausea from the migraine kills the peacefulness from the dark quiet atmosphere.

So, what can I do? I know exactly what I can do & what I want to do. Breast reduction surgery. Woo hoo! And, with all of the constant issues I’ve had over the past several years, insurance would probably cover it (see History of my Boobies below). I do want, and am looking forward to having my breasts reduced, but there is one…well two actually…issues that are giving me pause. Both revolve around my desire to have more children. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. First, a history lesson…

History of my Boobies

I got my first bra when I was in 5th grade. Nothing terribly exciting. It was that awkward, if I don’t wear something it looks funny, but I don’t actually need any support right now, kind of situation. I think I was a B cup in 8th & 9th grade. At the beginning of my 10th grade year I was around a C cup, then I lost my summer pudginess & shrunk back down to a B. I stayed  B for most of high school, getting up to a C at some point. My first couple years of college I was a B, then I hit my early twenties. Something happens to a woman’s body in her early twenties. It’s called getting more of a womanly figure. My hips got a bit bigger and so did my boobs. I realized that I would never be a size 4 again – I don’t think the pelvis of my skeleton would fit into a size 4 anymore. Anyway – I digress… I got up to a C cup. What a wonderful size. I was a 34C for a while. They were full and wonderful. I could still wear strapless bras and spaghetti straps. Hooray.

Then, I gained some weight. I won’t bore you with those details, that’s for another bitchfest blog post, at another time. Some women complain that when their weight fluctuates, the last place they gain weight and the first place they lose it is their boobs. Not me. The first place that I gain weight & the last place that I lose it is in my boobs. When I was in college and I gained weight, I got up to a size 14 & I was a 36DD. After I graduated, I lost the weight, dropped down to a size 6, but my boobs only went down to a 34D (really I was probably a 32DD – but I dare you to try finding that size anywhere). Keep in mind, that this time period was prior to Victoria’s Secret carrying Ds & DDs with any regularity. It was very difficult for me to find bras that fit properly. Since I’ve always had a very slim & narrow bust-line, my bust size has always seemed disproportionately small compared to my cup size.

During law school, I gained some weight. I gained a lot of weight actually. But, on my way up, I spent some time as a 34DD. I thought that sucked then. Now it’s almost easy to find that size. Anyway. When I started my last year of law school – just prior to getting pregnant, I was a size 14 again and a 36DD. Then I got pregnant. Put on more weight – you can see where this is going – and got up to a 38DDD. Whatever. That was inevitable given my size and the fact that I was pregnant. I was expecting my breasts to get larger, but I was hopeful that after the baby & after breastfeeding, they’d shrink a bit. By this point I was already banking on the fact that I would get a reduction after I was done with kids, so I wasn’t super concerned.

Well, my boobs didn’t shrink at all after I was finished breastfeeding. Here I am, 2 years after giving birth, a size 14 again…and guess what size bra I wear? I am at least a 34DDD. Are you fucking kidding me. 34 inches around. 34. There are women who wear a size 8 that aren’t even a 34. But I am. (And I’m not guessing, I’ve actually been measured by a woman who really knows what she’s doing). And, I say at least a DDD because the last bra I was in was a European size – and DDD is the equivalent. But since I lost some weight, it appears that only the bust line and not the cup has shrunk. Even with my “sizeable” hips, I’m top heavy.

My boobs are comically large right now. Comically. Seriously, there is nothing sexy about them (except in the right shirt with the right amount of cleavage – but naked – ha!)

My Issues

I want the have my breasts reduced. I want to be a nice perky C again. That was a lovely size. There is no way that I’ll get there on my own. Even if I was able to drop enough weight to get down to a size 6 again (not gonna happen with these post baby hips – and 8 is doable, but not a 6) there is no way that my boobs will shrink that much on their own. I have terrible back pain – including back spasms & the tension headaches. All that stem from the two lumps of heavy, annoying tissues hanging from my chest. I’m not afraid of the surgery, nor do I think that I will mourn the loss of the size. I’ll welcome it, with open arms, and hopefully a nice spaghetti strap sun dress. My problem is that I want to have more kids.

I foresee two issues with getting pregnant after having breast reduction surgery. First, the inevitable weight gain & breast enlargement. I refuse to go through all the trouble and pain of reduction surgery, only to have them balloon back out once my hormones go all wacky. No. Not gonna do that. Second, all the research I’ve done shows that breastfeeding after breast reduction surgery is very difficult, if not impossible. This is due to the fact that the surgery itself involves removing the nipple which can damage the connection to the milk ducts…blah blah blah science blah biology…http://www.webmd.com/skin-beauty/breast-reduction. I refuse to give up the ability to breastfeed my child. As I told my husband earlier – any decision that leads me to voluntarily not be able to breastfeed will have to involve life or death. That’s how serious I am about this.

The Argument Discussion

As today was the second day in a row that I left work early due to a migraine which was due to a tension headache, which was probably spawned from my boobs, it lead to a discussion with my husband, where he asked my to consider getting the reduction earlier than I was planning. I understand his point. Really I do. He doesn’t want to see me in the pain that I am in because of my boobs. But there is something that he doesn’t understand, and will never be able to understand.

I breastfed my son for 7 months. I wanted to go for the full year, but at 7 months, he had top and bottom teeth and a propensity for biting. I stopped before he drew blood. I knew that once that started happening I would have to stop anyway and it was really painful when he would chomp down. It was easy enough to wean him off the breast and exclusively onto the bottle. That’s him though – he’s the best/easiest/most perfect child ever – but that story is for another gushfest blog post. I missed it though. It was this amazing bonding experience that is 100% impossible to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it. Not to mention all of the medical reasons that show it is the most healthy thing you can do for your baby. I have attitude towards women who refuse to breastfeed. Not towards women who can’t for whatever reason, but towards those who won’t because it is inconvenient. I think that’s selfish.

Granted, it is selfish of me to not want to miss out on the amazing bonding experience with any potential future children. But, the only person really suffering as a result of my selfishness is me, so whatever. I will not intentionally do anything that will result in my not being able to breastfeed again. If it means spending every waking moment for the next 730 days in pain, I will do it. And gladly. I am willing to make that sacrifice. I’m a mom – that’s what we do.

My husband doesn’t understand my willingness to endure the pain. I can’t explain it to him. I know that I am not alone and that there are other women out there that would make the same sacrifice. I will someday get a breast reduction. But it will be after I am done having kids and all surgical options for preventing pregnancy have been exhausted. Call me selfish, but that’s what I intend to do.

In order to deal with my day-to-day responsibilities, I have to employ a great deal of balance. It took months after I began working to get a good balancing act system in place. As my work schedule shifted, so did the other aspects of my life so everything could move like a fluid water balloon jelly filled plastic bag cohesive unit.

It was pretty rocky at the beginning. I began working when my son – a.k.a. littleman – was nine months old. I had only held a part time job during the three month period prior to that. My new job/career meant daycare and a whole slew of issues I had yet to encounter. First, there was the issue of getting littleman too and from daycare. As my job is in another county, and takes me approximately 35 minutes (with no traffic) to get there, my husband – a.k.a. geekboy – got stuck with graciously volunteered to provide transportation. The days when I’ve had to take littleman in usually involve getting to work late and/or leaving work early. The next step was for me to learn my job. While I had done legal work clerking after law school, this was different. I had my own case load and I was responsible for managing that case load and all the fun that goes with it (I’ll spare you the details – in this post at least). It took me a while. There were a lot of reasons why. Mostly though, it was because there wasn’t adequate training after all the state wide budget cuts, and the person who was “training” (and I use that term very loosely) me had no idea what he was doing either. After I was able to get the appropriate guidance, training and practice, I became much more efficient at my job. In the beginning though, I worked late a lot and brought a lot of work home with me. There were many nights when geekboy fed, bathed and put littleman to bed. There were days at a time when the only glimpse I would get of my son was when I would peek in on him when he was sleeping. That was a truly heartbreaking time.

Eventually work did calm down and I was able to get the hang of my schedule. There was a time when I was working 40 hours a week (instead of the 50+ I started out at). Then the changes at work happened. With my job you are assigned to a division. You deal with the same defendants, public defenders and judge all the time. Well, I was reassigned to a different division. This happens all the time. It used to happen more often, but it’s a good rule of thumb that once you get comfortable with your situation, expect that things are going to change. They did. At first I was thrown for a loop, but I recovered quickly.

Then, things changed again when our judge changed. This made my life more difficult. The judge that came in was a brand new judge. She had prior experience in the Public Defender’s Office and had knowledge of the Juvenile system. That was a huge plus as she knew the applicable law and procedures. The down side to her was that she was very thorough. Now that is a good thing, in that it will make her a better and more knowledgeable judge later, but it was less than pleasant at the time. By less than pleasant, I mean that thoroughness takes a great deal of time. Time that kept me away from my office. I know wah, wah. Well, the time that I normally spent in my office, which was now being spent in the courtroom, had to be made up somewhere.

And at that point I had come full circle. I had more work than I had time to do it. I had to weigh my options and figure out how to get my life back in balance. The first and completely implausible option was to go to my new judge and tell her to speed things up a bit. Yeah. Not a wise career move for a brand new attorney who wants to keep her reputation. The last thing I needed was for my reputation to become the “girl who knows it all and isn’t afraid to tell the judge how to run her courtroom.” Not a good option. Chuck it in the bin.

Option two. Stay late until all the work is done. This was a crap option for so very many reasons. First, I wouldn’t get to see littleman. Second, geekboy was back in school two nights a week and had another obligation on a third night. We would have had to hire an evening babysitter for those three nights. Third, by that time of day/night my brain was shot and I was completely unable to function properly at work. Terrible option. Chuck it in the bin.

Option three. Go in early. Get the backlog of work done prior to heading to court and leave on time. Downside? Wake up at 4:00 a.m. Get to work when it is still dark out. Force myself to become a morning person. Yuck. Upside? Tuck in littleman every night of the week. That last upside completely obliterates all the downsides. Completely viable option. No bin chucking.

Option four. Take up Wicca and cast a spell to lessen the amount of time I spent in court and increase the amount of time I could spend in my office. Ehh. Not really my thing. Chuck it in the bin.

So, Option three won out. I started waking up at an ungodly hour. I became a morning person. I began to function on a higher level in the wee hours of the morning than i ever had before. It was amazing in a very sucky way. I was able to get most of my work done and I was able to leave work at 5:00 p.m.

So after I figured the work thing out, I had to manage the home thing. It took a bit of practice, but I eventually got the schedule down. This was a good thing for myself and littleman. The thing I have in common with toddlers is that we both thrive on schedules. Structure works. I had a schedule for the evenings down pat. And I was even able to start going to bed early. I was getting between 6 and 7 hours of sleep most nights, and, occasionally, 8 whole hours. A downside. I rarely got to see geekboy (which could also be an upside on occasion).

My day was full. Extra jam packed. I had two fulltime jobs and I worked from the minute I got out of bed until the minute I got back in again. My schedule looked a little something like this:

4:00 a.m. – Alarm goes off

4:01 a.m. – 5:00 a.m. – Fight with the snooze button and wonder why strange sounds that i was unable to turn off kept invading my dreams

5:00 a.m. – Get dressed, put on make-up, take the dogs out, make my lunch, make geekboy’s lunch, peek at my sleeping angel

5:30 a.m. – 6:00 a.m. – Leave for work

6:00 a.m.-ish – 5:00 p.m. – Work

6:30 p.m.-ish – Get home, take dogs out, start dinner, wrestle with littleman, yell at the dogs, serve dinner, explain to littleman the difference between throwing and eating dinner

7:00 p.m. – Clean up after dinner & hose littleman down

7:30 p.m. – Bathe littleman

8:00 p.m. – Put littleman to bed

8:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. - Take a shower and get ready for bed

I rarely sat down to watch TV on those nights, nor did I sit down at the computer. I went to bed. I would be exhausted beyond belief. Then, it would start all over again the next day.

I really hate to call the time that I spent with littleman work. It is work in the negative sense, but it is work. That kid can really exhaust a person. I love every minute I get to spend with him, but every minute is still a minute I am wearing my “I’m a responsible mommy” vest and name tag. It’s a second job. Well, it’s the first job really, but you know what I mean.

Now, yet again, the balance will be thrown out of whack. I was moved again at work. This time from Juvenile over to Misdemeanor. There are things that I will have to learn to do that I have not had any experience with in the 14 months I’ve been at my job. I’ll probably stick with the morning person schedule, since it seems to work for everyone involved. Hopefully, things will calm down and I’ll be able to wake up at a normal time and get to work at a normal hour. I’ll keep my fingers crossed, but I won’t hold my breath. Wish me luck.

What is the purpose of this blog. I purchased the name and started setting it up with a concept in mind, but I have yet to have been able to put the proverbial pen to paper and get started. I want this blog to be about being a mom and a lawyer and the balance that is necessary to accomplish both. I am a mom first and foremost. Nothing is more important to me than my family. I am a lawyer after my family.

I do enjoy my job. It is stressful. So is being a mom. Managing my life takes a great deal of patience and balance. I’ve learned patience. It was one of those things that just came to me, naturally, after my son was born. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me and I lose my patience. But, all-in-all, I’ve become a rather patient person. Balance is something different. After I started working, it took quite a while to figure out how to begin the delicate balancing act that is my life. I’ve gotten much more proficient at balancing, but it is an evolving process that I need to constantly readjust.

So, this blog is about that balance. How I manage certain aspects of my life from my unique perspective. It could be rather interesting. It could also be a load of whiny bullshit shenanigans. Regardless, it should be entertaining.