law and disorder

In my "previous life," life before being a mom and moving to the Midwest, I was a public defender. It was a difficult career, thankless and tiring, but my absolute favorite job thus far. I no longer practice because I am not licensed here, but I hope one day to return to it, when trials and hearings no longer interfere with my baby's bedtime. I remember driving with the hub discussing our two very different career paths, when I came to the conclusion that in a career you could either work for the money or work for a passion. The two rarely collide. And my life as a public defender was a passion, so much so that the lack of salary didn't matter all that much.

I bring this up because I was contacted last week by a previous client's new attorney. He goes to trial this week, on a charge stemming from events which I witnessed. Allegedly, my client kicked two police officers who claim they were attempting to remove him from the courtroom as his allegedly disruptive behavior escalated. Now, I say "allegedly" not to be tongue in cheek, but because the story as I have laid it out is as the complaint states. But a criminal complaint never states all the facts - it is simply the allegations that lead the prosecutor to charge a person with a crime.

Some people think that as a public defender I got people "off" for crimes they committed. That I led rapists back to the street and child molesters back to the park. That wife beaters were freed by me to finish the victim off. Because life is ever that simple? The only thing I ever did was hold the prosecution to their constitutional standard in proving a defendant guilty. And in "A Man for All Seasons," a play by Robert Bolt, Mr. Bolt states it better than I ever could:

Margaret: Father, that man's bad.

Sir Thomas More: There is no law against that.

William Roper: There is! God's law!

Sir Thomas More: Then God can arrest him.

William Roper: Sophistication upon sophistication!

Sir Thomas More: No, sheer simplicity. The law, Roper, the law. I know what's legal not what's right. And I'll stick to what's legal.

William Roper: Then you set man's law above God's!

Sir Thomas More: No, far below; but let me draw your attention to a fact - I'm not God. The currents and eddies of right and wrong, which you find such plain sailing, I can't navigate. I'm no voyager. But in the thickets of the law, oh, there I'm a forester. I doubt if there's a man alive who could follow me there, thank God...

Alice: While you talk, he's gone!

Sir Thomas More: And go he should, if he was the Devil himself, until he broke the law!

William Roper: So, now you give the Devil the benefit of law!

Sir Thomas More: Yes! What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?

William Roper: Yes, I'd cut down every law in England to do that!

Sir Thomas More: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned 'round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, from coast to coast, Man's laws, not God's! And if you cut them down, and you're just the man to do it, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake!


Oh, even just re-reading that passage here gives me goosebumps. Because protection of (and sometimes from) the law isn't something you deserve, earn - everyone is entitled to the same rights, same liberties, same processes and procedures. The same laws and the same order. You fight for the crack-addicted homeless jerk's rights because when we begin to pick and choose who is entitled to protection under the law, we cease to have any protection at all. Because someday it might just be you who gets denied the protection of law, and where will you be then?

So, my thoughts this week will be with my previous client and his new attorney. Just let his trial be fair and just.

And of course looking forward to my own (and first!) jury summons next week. What? Am I the only person who has hoped for jury duty? Maybe if we all realized what was at stake, we'd all be excited about jury duty. Remember...

"They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." ~Ben Franklin

five years later

It was five years ago today that my dad died. In fact, it was five years ago almost exactly to when I got the call from my mom. In shock, my hand still on the phone, my sister called with the same disbelief I was experiencing myself. And after our phone call ended, I called the hub, then my fiance, to tell him. It was in telling him that it suddenly became true. Luckily he was on the way to visit me (no surprise has even played out so well in timing) and by the time he arrived I was packed for the seven hour haul to Virginia Beach. We drove to the courthouse for me to drop off papers for the judge for whom I was clerking at the time, some useless work I'd brought home that I never finished, and we left on that cold January night. The hub drove the entire trip, and we pulled into my mom's driveway at dawn.

When he died my life was in a very different place than it is now. He died six months before my wedding, one year before my first move to Oklahoma, three and a half years before the birth of Britton. I never got to share any of it with him. See, we weren't especially sentimental with each other growing up. My dad, because of reasons I know and reasons I'll never know, couldn't be a huge part of my daily life. I think when it came down to it, he just didn't know what to do with my sister and I. And as I got older I released the resentment and accepted whatever part he wanted to play in my life. I just wanted to appreciate whatever it was of him that he was willing to give to me.

I miss him. It's not every day, but the ache will hit me at random - a song, a moment, something just sets off his memory. And I hate that he can't see me now, can't be a part of the life I have created, can't know how incredible his granddaughter is, won't ever take me out on his boat for Fourth of July fireworks, won't meet my sister's husband or new baby, couldn't walk me down the aisle, couldn't give me away to the groom, will never send me another card with the words, "Love Dad."

But I have to believe that he really hasn't missed a thing - he knows it all, just in some other way. Call it heaven, call it afterlife, call it whatever you like. He's as much a part of me as he ever was, even if he's not in front of me.

over and out

The hub and I got up this morning at our normal time, even though we weren't going to work. We wanted to get Britton's snacks and juice packed and hidden so that they would be ready right after her surgery. Her tubes were scheduled for 9:25 am this morning, and no matter how much I pleaded with the scheduler yesterday, I couldn't get it moved any earlier.

See, my biggest issue is that Britton is used to going to daycare at 7:00 am with a bowl of fruit and a sippy cup of half juice/half water, and I didn't want her inability to have anything to cause her a major meltdown. With her scheduled time of 9:25 am she was allowed to have food up until 2:25 am, and water and "clear liquids" until 6:25 am. This of course put us in the tricky position of deciding if it was worth waking her up at 6:25 am to have a drink, knowing she wasn't going to be allowed to keep that drink.

We decided it wasn't. The lady from the hospital suggested that we could wake her at 2:25 am for a snack, but apparently she doesn't have a seventeen-month-old as that was an absolutely ludicrous suggestion. Yeah, wake her up in the middle of the night to EAT, then expect her to just go back to bed with a kiss goodnight. So we decided to let her sleep in as late as she would (7:15!), dress her, then throw her into the car and head out. Hanging out at the house would inevitably lead to her sauntering over to the fridge for some breakfast treats.

We arrived early and got prepped, which really just entailed Britton changing her shirt into the baby hospital gown. Does it not just break your heart that they have gowns this little? We played in the "game room" waiting room, chock full of toys and even more full of nervous parents and hungry/thirsty kids. Twenty minutes early I was led to a pre-op room with Britton while the hub was directed to the waiting room, as per the hospital's policy of allowing only one parent to hang out before surgery. Britton had to get "giggle juice" (their term, not mine) which is an anesthesia spray up the nose, which causes the child to become "drunk" (again, their term). Britton was not a fan of the spray and coughed and gagged on it, all while giving me the "why would you hurt me?" eyes. We played with the OR's Dora the Explorer toy while Britton did give in to the anesthesia. She looked slightly drunk and downright giddy. She was escorted out by the nurse, and dang it all if that girl didn't even say bye to me, as by then she didn't really know what was going on or care.

It was no more than ten minutes later, and we were being updated by her ENT that the tubes were successful, there was a lot of fluid behind her eardrums, and that she would be ready to go home in about thirty minutes. Finally someone came to get us and took us back to the recovery room. Poor Britton, all hung over and ornery, was attempting to eat a popsicle but not enjoying the cold temperature of it at all. She refused to hold it by the stick, then refused the popsicle all together, and finally in a downward spiral just melted into a crying mess. Frankly, I can't blame her. The recovery room smelled of that distinct "hospital" smell, it wasn't exactly a cheery experience to begin with being a children's hospital and all, and that poor girl just wanted some apple juice and cheesy eggs stat. We got our discharge instructions after the nurse finally noticed that I was packing up to leave with or without the instructions. We changed Britton into her own shirt, collected all the stuff we dragged there (toys, Winnie, blankie, etc) and headed to the parking garage to go home.





We were warned that her tummy might be upset, she may run a fever, and a host of other side effects, but so far (knock on wood) Britton has been her normal self. Except for one huge difference - her pronunciation has already improved! You know why? She can finally hear well without all that fluid behind her eardrums! For instance, "abble" became "apple" the minute we got home. So, we're taking it easy this weekend, going out to the park tomorrow morning and staying close to home for the rest of the day. And just celebrating that my little girl, who has had TWO tube surgeries, is on the way to fantastically healthy ears.

winter

Winter is different here than any other place I have lived. In Virginia Beach the winter weather was mild, and ice and snow sent people into emergency mode. I remember school being closed for the lightest dusting of snow, sometimes the snow not lasting for more than a few hours. Blacksburg was my first experience with real winter weather, and also my first introduction to the necessity of a four-wheel-drive vehicle.



In West Virginia I learned to love snow. Even now the first few flakes of snow falling through the sky are magical. There is always beauty in snow-covered landscape. Of course, in West Virginia that snow would stick around for weeks, turning black and slushy under tires and mud. It was in West Virginia that I also became familiar with the continuous grey sky - it could be weeks on end before I'd see the sun.



I love these pictures - the outright joy caught in a run. She is not in any way self-consciousness or over-thinking, the way us adults are all too often. Just my little girl enjoying her cold winter afternoon.




Oklahoma was my first encounter with an ice storm. Absolutely stunning in its beauty, everything covered in a case of glass. Oklahoma weather was always unpredictable to a fault, but it also gave me a white Christmas for my daughter's first Christmas. And for that I'll gladly take the wind.

But Texas, that's a new one for me. All I know is that Britton loves the outdoors, cold or not. So Texas winters seem to suit her just fine.



"Little January

Tapped at my door today.

And said, "Put on your winter wraps,

And come outdoors to play."

Little January

Is always full of fun;

Until the set of sun.

Little January 

Will stay a month with me

And we will have such jolly times -

Just come along and see."


~ Winifred C. Marshall

i heart etsy

I have finally made time to finish Britton's room! Not much needed to be done, except some finishing touches. I really wanted to put a tree on her wall, but I'm not so artsy and my sister isn't close enough to do it for me. So I ventured onto Esty and found a vinyl tree that goes on the wall but doesn't affect the paint or drywall. It may be described as "easily removable" but it was also "not so easy to get it to stick to the walls"! The poor hub got stuck (bad pun intended) trying to get it to adhere to the wall while Britton was in an especially foul mood. Even though my mom and I attempted to distract her while I helped him, Britton only wanted me to hold her. We finally got it put up in pieces over the last week.

It came with butterfly decals as well, but instead I found some whimsical butterflies at Michaels with clips on the back. I screwed small eyehooks into the wall and clipped the butterflies to them. Because we have 12 foot ceilings, I wanted to take advantage of the height and make the butterflies look like they were flying up into the sky. Voila!








I had also had this Etsy artist bookmarked for a while, and decided to go ahead and order the print I loved so much. Can't believe I hemmed and hawed over $15 for so long because it is stunning. See, I sing this song to Britton while changing her diaper in the morning, as it seems to distract her long enough for me to get her business done. But I also used to sing it to her every morning on the way to daycare in Oklahoma. It's our thing, and now this beautiful print hangs outside her bedroom.

tale of two winnies

Britton has a stuffed "lovey/blankie/security object" consisting of a Winnie-the-Pooh head sewn to a little blankie. To say that Britton loves her Winnie is an understatement. Britton adores her Winnie, never willingly separating for more than a few minutes. In fact, the approximate hour it takes to wash and dry Winnie is a nightmare for her, the addiction controlling her mind and mood until she gets it back in her hot little hands.

And it just so happens that I got this Winnie from my co-workers at one of my baby showers. Approximately eight months after said baby shower, Britton deemed Winnie the love of her life. Approximately seven months after Target stopped carrying it, along with the entire line of the Classic Disney stuff available when I had registered. The hub and I knew that the clock was ticking towards disaster. Your kid can't have a prized possession like that and it never gets lost, never gets left at the store, never meets an horrific end with a lawn mower.

And Britton has made Winnie earn her love. She drags it everywhere. She sucks on the little blanket part, even with a mouth full of food. We wash it when we can, but the stains won't get out. And the smell, dear God the smell, of that thing after a long week will burn your nose hair. Winnie is, quite frankly, gross.




So, trying to avoid the parenting mistake of not being 100% COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY PREPARED, I began scouring the internet for a substitute. And I found one I thought was identical. When it showed up in the mail, we inspected it and found that it was NOT the same. The Winnie head was ever so slightly different, and Britton promptly dismissed it from her life. We now refer to that Winnie as "Imposter Winnie" and it is rarely spoken of in our house.

I gave it one last go this past week. I googled it, trying every keyword I could think of. And I finally found it. On Ebay. For four times what it was priced at two years ago.

But it was blue.



I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but Winnie is pink. Or at least was pink. Cammy was under the impression Winnie is beige. Regardless, it IS NOT BLUE. But I figured, hey, I can remove the blue blanket and sew in Imposter Winnie's blanket and she'll never know the difference.

Well, it arrived yesterday and the hub automatically gave it to Britton, without consulting me and my overly-intricate plan about switching the blankets. And you know what?

She accepted it without question. She has been dragging New Winnie around but hasn't started chewing on it yet. And while I am relieved that we have a back-up to her lovey object of affection, part of me is a little sad that she so easily moved on from her first love. The hub says that I am playing with fire if I bring Winnie back into the mix, but I may just have to switch them back and put New Winnie in its hiding place, to come out if Original Winnie goes missing. Fine, maybe I'm the one holding onto it, maybe it's because I know how much she loves it and I want her to always have it. And just because the new one is pretty and clean doesn't mean it's better. The Old Winnie doesn't need replacing because it hasn't gone anywhere.

Because even though it's stained and stinky and ragged and faded, it's still Winnie.

cammy came to town

My mom came into town this weekend to visit and we had a great time! I took Friday off of work and went to pick her up from the airport. We made it back to town to go register my car (I had to take advantage of being off work), then went to go get some Mexican food for lunch. We then went shopping and picked up Britton from daycare. Britton wasn't too sure of Cammy at first as she hasn't seen her since her first birthday, but a little game of peek-a-boo broke the ice. And a rousing chorus of "One Little Duck."



Cammy gave us a nice surprise Saturday morning by stealing the monitor from my room and shutting my door. The hub and I blissfully slept in while Cammy and Britton played at the horrendously early hour of 7:00 am! Cammy and Britton bonded over stickers and coloring books and Britton's all-time love (second only to her Winnie) - the Glo Worm. Cammy did ask if we had batteries on hand as Britton felt the need to play the Glo Worm's songs for her at least 500 times in a row.



On Saturday Cammy and I went to get pedicures while Britton napped. Then we all met up with Grandma and Grandpa at Babe's, a Texas restaurant specializing in fried chicken and "home cookin." I'm a big believer in taking guests to restaurants/sites they won't get to experience outside of your visit. Olive Garden? Not so much, since Cammy can get that anywhere.



But the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo? Only in Texas, baby...

So we went down to the Stock Show and Rodeo bright and early Sunday morning. Now, the hub saw online that they opened at 8:00 am, so we figured we were covered by arriving around 9:00 am. But it seems that even if it opens at 8:00 am, nothing gets started until 10:00 am. So while waiting for the petting zoo to get their act together (let's just say much poop needed to be scooped), we wandered into the coliseum and found a Mexican rodeo troupe practicing their show for later that night.






And then we made our way in the drizzle to the petting zoo, where Britton was not nearly as excited about the goats and chickens and bunnies and alpacas as Cammy and I were.




So we skipped the pony rides and went into the trade show indoors. Britton got to sit on a John Deere tractor and meet Elsie the Cow!




And once home, we all took naps. Britton woke up first and Cammy brought her into the family room to wake me up from my nap on the couch.



Cammy took our picture, so we decided to "kiss" at the camera. A lazy evening was ahead of us, just hanging out, grabbing some burgers to go, and wishing that Cammy's visit hadn't been so short.

going tubing, yet again

I picked up Britton early from daycare today for her ENT (ear, nose, and throat) doctor appointment. She was in the middle of snacktime, so we brought her chocolate chip cookies with her, as evidenced by her chocolaty mouth...



Don't worry about the straps - I tightened them! Then we were off to Fort Worth. See, I work in Fort Worth, but I live about 20-30 minutes away. So today I left work, got Britton, went back to the medical building not more than 3 blocks from where I work, then drove back home afterwards. Ugh.

Britton did well during her hearing test, even letting the "needs to learn bedside manner" non-personality audiologist put plugs into her ears. We went upstairs to the doctor's office to wait and can I just tell you there was the weirdest assortment of people in there. One woman was wrangling three kids while yelling at her doctor's office on the phone about not faxing over a referral. Another woman and her husband were screaming into their phones for someone at home to pick up (as I eavesdropped I learned that they did not have their new insurance card with them), all while corralling a young autistic girl. Britton just wandered from person to person, checking them out and eating an apple.

We finally got called back and the ENT came in. He checked Britton's ears and reviewed her hearing test and took a deep breath. See, we've been on the "wait and see" program, trying to not redo the tubes if we don't have to. But Britton now has fluid behind both eardrums, a significant drop in hearing function, and her right tube has jumped shipped along with her left one. As he put it, "there's a problem with her plumbing," meaning her eustachian tubes, and she needs long-term tubes. We could continue to fight the infections with antibiotics, adjust to her hearing loss, or we can go ahead and fix the underlying issue causing the problems. So we're scheduled for tubes January 28th.

I hope it works this time. I hope Britton will no longer have to tolerate ear pain, infection after infection, all while acting like it doesn't bother her. But I know her armor is cracking. After we got home, after dinner was eaten and toys pulled out for play, Britton gathered her glo-worm, doll, Winnie, and blankie and climbed into my lap. While I rocked her back and forth she continuously played her glo-worm's lullabies, and snuggled close. For those who don't know, Britton isn't a big snuggler. She's sweet, yes, but she would rather run and jump and play than be held down by a hug for too long. But tonight, I think she just got tired of it hurting. And I'm glad she gave me that 15 minutes to rock her, to hug her so tightly, and to tell her that it's all going to be ok.

didn't see that coming

Like the "first" of visiting the emergency room didn't make our weekend hectic, today was also the first time we have seen snow in Texas. Granted, it wasn't a lot and it didn't even stick long enough for Britton to see it (she was napping), but here it is. Don't you just love how the sod pieces look like a patchwork quilt? Me neither, and I'm really hoping we have a decent lawn by spring!

some more firsts

Yesterday morning, seeing as the weather was supposed to turn cold and snowy, we took Britton to the park. She loves the slide, and had a great time. We got home and I was starting to get ready to make her lunch. She walked over to me in the kitchen, threw her arms up to me, and wanted me to play with her. I grabbed her arms, as we do so often, and started swinging her back and forth. But when I put her down, she started whimpering and grabbing at her left wrist area. I didn't think much of it at first, thought maybe I had just grabbed too hard or caught her shirt against her skin in an irritating way. But the whimpering didn't stop, and the more she tried to use her left arm the worse it got. A quick call to the ER to see if we should come in became a frantic drive to the hospital.

Luckily when we arrived there wasn't a wait, and we were seen pretty quickly. The hub had called Grandma and Grandpa for reinforcement and to pick up a Happy Meal for Britton, as we really had no idea how long it would take.

Diagnosis? Nursemaid's elbow. Or, as the doctor put it, "radial head subluxation." I had basically dislocated my own child's elbow. I half-expected to see Social Services rushing in, whispering in hushed tones with accusatory glances, and be questioned on why I was injuring my child. But everyone was very kind, including a great nurse who brought Britton stickers and a popsicle. One quick rotation of the arm later, and the ER doctor had fixed her arm without even a flinch from Britton. Less than five minutes later she was using her arm fully and we were discharged.

Let me tell you, it was a low point in my self-confidence as a mother. I didn't know toddlers have loose tendons and ligaments and that swinging her would throw her elbow out of whack. The hub and I regularly swing Britton from her arms and legs onto the bed, and she loves it. But no more. I find myself second-guessing even touching her arms, the left arm in particular, as I am scared that I will hurt her again. I know that no one blames me for what happened to Britton, but does it really matter if I'm left blaming myself?

Back at home, here she is lugging out her Mega Blocks, displaying full use of the left arm...





And, later that night, another first - her first teeth brushing. Yes, I know dentists recommend starting at the first birthday, but Britton has only recently shown interest and curiosity about what I am doing when I brush my teeth, so I figured now was fine. I even picked her up some fluoride-free toothpaste with a "berry" flavor. She doesn't quite get it, and she mostly sucked on the toothbrush bristles, but that's the idea. I want her to get used to brushing her teeth every night as part of her routine now.

a little piece of advice

frus·trat·ed   [fruhs-trey-tid]
–adjective

1. disappointed; thwarted: an announcer who was a frustrated actor.
2. having a feeling of or filled with frustration; dissatisfied: His unresolved difficulty left him absolutely frustrated.

My coworkers are on my last frayed nerve. The issue isn't work, the ridiculous monotony I subject myself to for the opportunity to pay my bills with real money, but the people themselves. They are all procreating (or trying to).

Not with each other, mind you, but with their spouses and it is driving me nuts. It's not like a "been there done that" issue at all - it's more that they are all asking my advice on things AND THEN NOT TAKING THAT ADVICE. And then, on top of that, they are talking as "experts" on subjects they know nothing about, TO ME. THE ONE WITH A CHILD.



In my office I am a novelty as I am over thirty, married for (gasp!) four and a half years, and I have a child. Only two other people out of twenty can say the same thing. And there is little the other people want to discuss other than getting pregnant/being pregnant. Except it goes a little something like this:

Co-Worker: "My husband doesn't want me to get any ultrasounds because the radiation will hurt the baby."

Of course I asked her the same thing you would - "So, you're turning off your cell phone too? Because it's the same amount of radiation."

Chirp chirp. Silence.

Or my favorite - "I'm never having an epidural or any drugs AT ALL when I give birth." Well, good for you. And admittedly this one makes me feel like I'm being judged because it always begins with someone asking me if I had an epidural. Yes, I did. The pitocin made my contractions so unbearable that I would have had an epidural in my eyeball if it meant the pain would stop.

Chirp.

Sidenote - I do have a co-worker whose wife gave birth naturally in their home to FOUR children. More power to them. But when he said that the husband's job as coach "was as exhausting as actually giving birth" I made a mental note to slip laxatives in his coffee when no one was looking.

On to my favorite - the inevitable conversation on immunizations wherein I end the topic by congratulating the person for having so much faith in every other parent in the world to immunize so that their own unprotected child won't be exposed to a preventable horrific disease. Because, you know, I myself wouldn't know anything about actually making THE SAME DECISION but I did it with my OB/GYN and pediatrician and husband. Not a chat room on babycenter.com.

Chirp. Silence.

Or how it doesn't matter how much folic acid you pop into your mouth, drinking green tea inhibits the absorption of folic acid by your body. But go ahead, drink up. Don't listen to me. You asked me what I knew about folic acid and I told you. Don't dismiss the information because it doesn't conform to the answer you want.

Chirp. Confused look. Silence.

Because a lot of having children is hearing/doing/seeing things you don't necessarily want to. Like breastfeeding every two hours whether you're exhausted or not. Or having a baby that doesn't want anyone but you holding her, at least 23 of 24 hours per day. Or giving up sushi and goat cheese while pregnant, not to mention deli meats, coffee, and yes, green tea. Or saying no and meaning it when it counts - every time.

So here's my advice to you. Don't ask me if you don't really want to know the answer. And be prepared that, as a parent, I do know what I'm talking about.

seventeen months old

Fine, I'll admit it. This picture was actually taken today, January 3rd because I forgot yesterday was the 2nd. Heck, if you'd have asked me the date yesterday I would have given you a blank stare, then distracted you while grabbing my iPhone and checking for the date.

This was the real January 2nd...



See the chicken nugget on the keyboard? And the spinning chair? And the pen? Britton's favorite things, not unlike Oprah (except Britton's are less desirable to the average adult).

So onto Miss Britton's month...Her vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds. She gets more talkative at nighttime, and will string together "words" in sentences, especially if she is "reading" from her books. She has added "baby," "Sadie," "Gampa" (Grandpa), "Nana" (Grandma), "no" (already?!?!), "baaaa" (for sheep sounds), and some more but I can't remember all of them. She is also still attempting to dress herself, and can successfully put her arms through sleeves and her feet/legs in her pants (but not pull them up).

She is getting more adventurous as well and loves the slide, running, attempting somersaults, and bouncing/climbing on the hub. She can get into and out of the Cozy Coupe by herself, and shuts the door every time she gets out (it cracks us all up). She has a zebra that she rides and she can now use both feet to push herself on it across the room. The independent streak is alive and well now, as Britton throws a tantrum if she doesn't get what she wants, even if you have no idea what she wants or she decides once given her desired object she no longer wants it. She loves to hold my hand and "guide" me to where she wants to play or if she wants me to get her a certain toy.

Eating is still going well. Twice last week Britton took an avocado from the shelf, stuck a finger through the peel, and commenced eating the entire avocado. She is also a big fan of oranges and grapes lately, as well as spaghetti, broccoli, rice, scrambled eggs with cheese, toast, milk, and pretty much all veggies and fruit. I can't really remember a time when she wouldn't at least try a food item. She is off morning bottles, only getting one at bedtime.

She is growing like a weed - wearing 2T shirts and mostly 3T pants! And the most recent shirt I bought her that was 2T was too small, so we can get away with 2T in Carter's clothing, but not many other brands. Britton did get a lot of new clothes for Christmas, with some fitting now and some for later.

We are waiting on a doctor's appointment next week with her ear, nose, and throat doctor to see if she has to get tubes again since the morons at the urgent care place flushed her left one out. Other than that she has had some colds, ear drainage, and teeth pain but is trying to be our trooper.

Likes: baths, her Twinkle Toes shoes (they light up when she walks), books, coloring, covering herself and everything else with stickers, climbing the stairs, throwing the ball for Sadie, putting lotion on herself, her new playhouse and slide, being outdoors

Dislikes: the carseat in the hub's car (because it leans her back too much), being told no, being rushed, her recent diaper rash, not being able to do something herself

happy new year!

The hub's parents took us all out for dinner on New Year's Eve, so we went early to try and avoid the crowds. We tried Chuy's, Mexican food, and it was incredible! One thing I have learned for this new year - if you ever want to entertain a toddler at dinner, forget the Cheesecake Factory or Olive Garden. Go to a Mexican restaurant - festive music, bright colors, tons of people to watch, and stupid fast service. And don't forget the straws!





What else have I learned?

1. A secretary by any other job title is still a secretary. Even if you have a law degree.

2. In regards to #1, the worse the economy the worse the glass ceiling.

3. There are few problems a long hot shower and good nights' sleep won't fix.

4. Moving gets harder the older I get.

5. The deciding factor on how many children you'll have can be the ridiculous cost of daycare.

6. My dog still likes me even when I'm being rotten to her. Sometimes that is harder than if she would just get mad back.

7. Taking off work early to pick up Britton and hang out counts as sick time in my book.

8. People in Texas are some of the worse drivers I have ever seen. Even worse than Maryland.

9. When I work hard and do a good job I throw myself a parade and pat myself on the back. I have to, because so often people mistake gratitude for weakness.

10. If it's not written down, it'll never get done.

Hope everyone has a very happy and prosperous 2011!