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Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

It’s been over a year since I’ve blogged.

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I’ve been meaning to blog, but with the birth of my second child, I just haven’t felt up to it. Blogging was constantly on my mind, but it was hard for me to do it. Honestly, going back to writing is about as awkward, unsettling, and weird as having sex for the first time after giving birth (if you don’t know what I mean, read Erin Donovan’s “Dead Vagina Walking” to get caught up to speed). Plus, there was just so much to write about I honestly didn’t know where to start.

Since blogging about all that I had wanted to write about in the past year would take forever, so I’ve just made a timeline. Here’s a year of my life, condensed:

12/2013: I give birth to #2! After laboring at home and giving up because my beloved husband FELL ASLEEP while I was dancing to speed things up, we end up at the hospital, 6cm dilated and me yelling for an epidural because 1) holy oxytocin, back labor and 2) I was so desperate for sleep.

Eight hours later, my husband would help deliver a sunny side up, 7 pound 3 ounce baby girl. Unlike with my first baby, the moment they put Juliette into my arms, I was in love. Unlike with my first, I was not overwhelmed with the knowledge that I was now responsible, legally, morally and otherwise, for a tiny human being whose survival depended on me. Instead, I felt proud and confident. The past nine months had been terrible, both physically and emotionally, but after giving birth I felt amazing.

dancegome

Of course, no way could I ACTUALLY do this immediately after giving birth.

1/2014: On New Year’s Day, we go to Disneyland with my son and my brand new baby girl. Being in the hospital had been terribly tough on Tiny Boss, and I wanted to do something special for him. Unfortunately, this turns out to be a horrible idea and I end up with a sick, feverish infant and several sleepless nights. Those sleepless nights haven’t disappeared, by the way.

2/2014: I am pumping so I can save milk for Tinier Boss because FFS, she is going on the bottle as soon as we get her two month shots. I am NOT making the same mistake I did with her older brother (who never took a bottle and therefore I never got a break).

3/2014: I have way too much milk because she’s not on the bottle. I’m going to start donating milk. Or maybe I should sell it. I found a website that puts you in touch with parents who need milk. This person is willing to pay $2/ounce for fresh, unfrozen milk. I’m pumping 6-12 ounces a day. I am literally a cash cow! Wait, not a cow. Poor choice of words.

Later in 3/2014: I make $20 selling breast milk! After emailing the buyer, who promises to be discreet (ok?), we meet at Starbucks.

You’re K.C.?”

whaaa

Fine. Maybe he’s a dad? But a few hours after we meet up, K.C. texts me, “Your milk is delicious.”

ewBut maybe I shouldn’t judge because thanks to Google, I’ve learned that some cancer patients drink breast milk (it is full of nutrients and extremely easy to digest). Also, some bodybuilders do it too, although based solely on appearance, this guy wasn’t a bodybuilder . . . I speculate that I have sold 10 ounces of my breastmilk to an adult baby (thanks Wikipedia!).

4/2014: I am still disappointed that I can’t make money with my boobs.

sad

What happens to a dream deferred?

8/2014: We travel to Mexico with both kids by plane.

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

The kids do awesome and I am proud. On the return flight we are stuck in a holding pattern for almost two hours due to bad weather and no one under the age of three in my row has a meltdown. On the other hand, our surrounding passengers must have been coming back from a convention for assholes. I regret not being a Tom Clancy fan; otherwise I could yell out spoilers at the man sitting next to me pretending to read but he can’t due to the amount of eye rolling going on. Bless his heart, he can’t seem to stop alternating between rolling his eyes and huffing like he’s trying to get to the head of the Hometown Buffet line. dwight

Next time I board a plane with kids, I’m printing out required reading (including this and this) to pass out. How’s that for goody bags?

booobitch9/2014: My son is potty trained! I’m forever grateful for the 3 Day Potty Training method.

At first, this is awesome, but then the realization that my schedule is now ruled by his bladder (or worse) quickly sets in. I learn the importance of always knowing the location of a bathroom or a good bush wherever I go and accumulate bad juju for the number of times we have peed on the seat or elsewhere (shudder). I spend good money on a Kalencom portable potette that is used and accepted by every American toddler except for ours.

11/2014: Flu season has set in. You know what’s worse than being sick with one kid? You guessed it.

12/2014: Baby girl is one year old. I can’t believe a year went by.

And that’s what I’ve been up to since I last blogged.

IMG_9513Actually, it wasn’t that bad getting back into writing. Stay tuned for my next post, which will be about transitioning from one to two kids, and the number of new gray hairs that have coincidentally sprouted at the same time.

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The Mother of Procrastination

When I was in college, I worked on a public access show called “The Feminist Half-Hour of Power,” which interviewed local feminists and activists in Madison, Wisconsin. Yes, I know it would have sounded better if it was an hour of power, but we were only given 30 minutes from the station, so we had to make it work.

Today, I’m trying to start my “Two Hours of Power” – what I’m calling my two hours of alone time that I’m supposed to “get a lot of work done!” But I’m having the hardest time getting started.

You see, I’ve carefully negotiated no less than two hours of time alone so I can start on my homework for a new writing class I’m taking. My phone is off, I’m at a coffeehouse, but I’m having the worst case of writer’s block. I’m suffering from cafe curse – where you’re settled in with your coffee, laptop open and ready to work, but all of a sudden you notice how crowded and noisy it is inside. You move outside, but the shade is too cold and it’s impossible to see the laptop screen in the sun. I’ve kindof compromised by being half in, half out of the shade but I can feel my elbow getting sunburned.

Annnnd now I’m hit with that mysterious work-induced narcolepsy even though I just drank a bunch of coffee, sugars and calories. Welp!

I'm trying! It's just not happening right now.

I’m trying. It’s just not happening right now.

So I decide to waste some more time on Brainpickings.org do some research on combating writer’s block and here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

  • No more cafes: “The crowd is the gathering place of the weakest; true creation is a solitary act.” – Charles Bukowski. Oh, and “Avoid cliques, gangs, groups. The presence of a crowd won’t make your writing any better than it is.” – Zadie Smith
  • Reduce expectations: “You starve to death for ten years before your publisher knows you’re any good.” – Raymond Chandler
  • Just do it: “Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper.” – John Steinbeck
  • Forget your audience (sort of): “Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.” – Kurt Vonnegut. Also, what John Steinbeck said: “Forget your generalized audience. In the first place, the nameless, faceless audience will scare you to death and in the second place, unlike the theater, it doesn’t exist. In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person—a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.”

Lastly, my favorite (at least for blogs): “Never write more than two pages on any subject.” – David Ogilvy.

I better stop here.

New name?

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I’ve been trying to come up with a new name for my blog as I start revamping it to be a parenthood blog rather than a t-shirt design company. Yes, that’s what vixenvillian was supposed to be, several lifetimes ago. I was living in Corona, CA at the time and snowboarding a lot on the weekends. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then I got burned out being a lawyer, moved to the beach, got even more burned out, had a baby, and the rest is history.

I wasn’t going to list all the names here, after a biter fellow blogger recently stole was inspired by a post of mine*, but I decided I should just go ahead and do it. Do any of these sound interesting at all?

  • Mental mom jeans
  • Sarah Connor was a mom too
  • You’re a mean mother! And other spoken half-truths
  • Mamanista
  • Momtopia
  • RAYNOR I AM YOUR MOTHER
  • Nerdmom
  • Confessions of a lawyer mom
  • Motherhood is a RPG – level grind
  • Momnoob
  • 18 years, or 9,467,077 minutes
  • 18 years, 18 years, I got one of these kids he got me for 18 years
  • A mimosa for mama
  • This moms mom jeans
  • <– not a tiger mom
  • Nobody puts mom in a corner.
  • Tiny Boss Says…
  • Can we put some pants on please?

I also have a couple of talented friends in the advertising program at the expensive prestigious Art Center College of Design who will ultimately come up with a better blog name for me, so biters can suck it!

Oh, and can you tell I just discovered this strikethrough text feature in WordPress?

I’m leaning away from Nerdmom and Motherhood is a RPG – level grind, because 1) I don’t play many games anymore, unless you count Legend of the Cryptids on the iPhone (which I don’t) and 2) I’d have to constantly fill this blog with content like this:

Maybe Tiny Boss Says or something to do with being a lawyer mom, but people generally don’t like lawyers. I don’t blame ’em.

I guess I’ll wait to see what my clever and creative friends have to say.

Thank goodness for breastfeeding babies liking to eat at night as well as a propensity towards insomnia, otherwise I would have never gotten this post out.

* Asterisk because I’m a lawyer, and I like stuff like this. Just kidding. I was going to link my post that got jacked, but I remember reading somewhere that this is bad form for blogging and WordPress can actually shut the blog down for doing that. Is this true? Or am I just making shit up because it’s 2:15am and the dogs are snoring louder than my husband which is a sign I really need to go to bed now.

On the 12th Day of Blogging

The 12th day was skipped – the first time I missed a post while during my 30 day challenge to write each and every day. I’m blogging on Day 14, and because I also had to blog Day 13 today, I won’t be doing a Day 14 blog so I’m still behind.

You know, a funny thing starts happening when you miss a commitment: you start making excuses or trying to cheat. Like – oh, I wrote a blistering letter to opposing counsel and she’s going to be pissed when she reads it, or I posted a really interesting update on Facebook today!

My excuses are pretty much The Baby Made Me Do It – which is kind of valid, since babies make everything harder. All the things I took for granted – showering, driving, working out, eating – are now a true accomplishment. Completing a blog post – something that was already hard for me to begin with – is sort of the icing on the cake.

Consistently meeting commitments, makes me pumped and proud that I’ve stuck by something, especially if the going got tough and I got through it. It’s kind of like working out – if I get a good run in, the next day I’m less likely to eat a Big Mac because ruining the hard work I did the night before just isn’t worth it.

Although I never eat Big Macs anyways. I’d go for the King, or Jack, or even the Colonel (“better be an old man’s darling than a young man’s slave!”) over Ronald any day.

You know, I could blog about food so easily. Here’s a list of my comfort food. You know, in case you ever want to befriend me, or lure me into a bear trap.

Rice Krispie treats

Tater tots – Napoleon Dynamite knew what’s up

Watermelon

Jollibee’s spaghetti

Stouffer’s lasagna

Prego pasta sauce with mozarella cheese mixed in

Fettucine Alfredo

Van de Kamp’s froze fish fillets

Totino’s 99 cent pizzas

KFC fried chicken (crispy)

These are some of the foods I ate after school growing up (well, except for Jollibee’s). It’s not just the flavor; it was being a hungry kid and having the fortune of coming home to a mom that liked to make snacks out of processed frozen food 🙂

Now it’s midnight – I know what I’ll be dreaming about.