Natie's Cute Sayings, Vol. 1

Nate is one of the talkingest near two-year-olds I've ever met. Some of my favorites:

He sees something. He starts to tell me about it. I am thinking about other things, probably work. So he has to get my attention. So it's: "Ooh! A wheel. Mommy. MOMMY. [Now has my attention). Wookit, a wheel."

To total strangers at the mall: "Hi." [They say hi back.] "Merr Kissmas."

Wants to sit with Uncle Jeff at dinner: "Sit wif Unca Dood."

Wants water: "Waller, peez."

Any truck: "Biiig truuuck."

Wants McDonald's: "Hammy Meeal." And of course: "Chickn Nuggen." And: "Fies."

What do you want to drink? "Joose" or "Schockit Munk." (Chocolate Milk)

Tackles big brother or wrecks Aron's Legos: "Sawyee, biggie bruuher." (Sorry, big brother.)

Gift Update

We have the Mack Truck, but no Wii. Guess Aron's getting an I.O.U. from Santa!

And Natie wants...

See post below. Same idea, but for this Pixar Cars Mack Truck, and for Nate. It's about $15.99. Please help!!!
[Mommy guilt hand-wringing time: I can't believe that I may not have the good stuff for the bebes for Christmas. I can't believe I am now old enough to be swept up into this Cabbage Patch Kid crap. I can't believe how I have embraced it with such gusto. OH HELP ME! They'll be felons if I don't give them a nice Christmas! Kidding, I know that's ridiculous. Kind of.]

Wii need your help

Aron has asked for a Nintendo Wii for Christmas. I am coming up empty handed.

I am BEGGING you: if you are out shopping and you see this gaming system, PLEASE buy it. I will reimburse you for the system, shipping and your trouble. Call me on my cell if you are out and you happen to see one (email me if you don't have the number). They are about $250. This is the kind of gift that's really for the whole family.

Won't you please help? A needy five-year-old boy is waiting for you to pick up the phone right now.

This job rocks, Part II

My boss told me today we are going to get badges!!! Prosecutors can do that. I have always wanted a badge. I'm going to pass out with glee.

Cops & Alcohol

For the last few days I have been taking a NHTSA Alcohol Detection and Prosecution class. This class is for law enforcement officers; it teaches them how to administer Field Sobriety Tests (yep, on the roadside) and how to gather and document evidence for prosecution of OVIs. It has been an invaluable learning experience for me. I am steadly working towards my goal of becoming an A-1 bad ass prosecutor. I hate $4,000 per case OVI defense attorneys. I just want to eat them for breakfast when they swagger in and try to suppress evidence, trying to save their client (a.k.a. Drunk Loser) from a few days in jail. It's on like Donkey Kong now.

I'm hanging out with Sheriff's deputies all day during this training, and I can tell you, those guys are nuts. They keep trying to convince me that I should "take a Taser." As in, let them fire a Taser at me; the barbs will pierce my skin deliver 50,000 volts of electricity for five seconds. Despite having given it about two seconds of serious consideration, I'm sticking with my original answer of "Hell, no."

Kurt and the bebes are gone this weekend to Tiger Country, Ohio. I will be at home by my lonesome, decorating for Christmas. I have to take the class tomorrow from 6:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., then it's home for the game!

GO BUCKS!
MI SUCKS!

Or whatever. I'm not from around here, y'all know that.

%$#@^*!!!!!!!!

I am SO F*ing mad!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some idiot stole my cell phone out of the diaper bag when I shopping yesterday. The cell phone was in the diaper bag, which was in the shopping cart, which I was pushing with Nate in it the entire time I was in the store. So I call my cell using Kurt's phone after I realize it is gone. Here's what happened:

Her (answering my phone): Who is this?
Me: Um, you have my phone.
Her: Oh.
Me: Where are you?
Her: Where are you?
Me: Where did you find my phone?
Her. In a shopping cart at Marshall's.
Me: I'm AT Marshall's right now.
Kurt (in the background): Why the hell did she leave the store with your phone? Why didn't she turn it in to customer service?
Me: Can you bring my phone back?
Her: I would cost me money to get a ride back to that store.
Me: Where are you?
Her: East side of Columbus. Like, 30 minutes from there.
Me: Oooookaaaay. Is there some place public we could meet?
Her: Public?
Me: You know, like a gas station or something?
Her: Umm...
Me (Rolling eyes): OK. Will you mail it back to me?
Her: You mean, like, go to the Post Office and mail it?
Me: YES. (At this point I realize that I am dealing with a teenage kid, probably.)
Her: I've never done that before.
Me: (Starting to get very angry) Is there a Verizon Wireless store near you?
Her: (Perks up) Oh yeah!
Me: Well, will you take it back there tomorrow?
Her: Yeah, yeah, I can do that.
Me: Thank you. Goodbye.

Me (two seconds later): Hello, Verizon? Please suspend service to my phone.

I mean, it's unreal. That person had to reach in and take my phone in the milliseconds my back was turned to grab something. Watch your stuff, you guys, when you are shopping.

And don't call my cell. Hopefully I can get it back (sh'yeah, right) or at least have my new phone reactivated to my old number. But, I lost everyone's numbers. I'll be emailing or writing you to get them again.

Back in the day

Remember when I used to post every other day? Yeah, me too. Well, I'll hit some highlights for you regarding our goings on.

Work is good. But draining. At 8 a.m. I make it to court and go fast, fast, fast all day until 5 p.m. Then I want to crash.

Speaking of crashes, I hit Kurt's car with my car backing out of the garage the other day. Frickin' IDIOT! [Napoleon Dynamite voice]. I was in another world. So now we have to pay two deductibles. Sigh.

We are joining our church Dec. 3. The boys and I were baptized Oct. 29.

My buddy Jill is pregnant with her third baby! I'm so excited it's her and not me. Just kidding! She makes cute kids, so I can hardly wait to meet him/her.

Found a babysitter for Nate & Aron next summer: one of Aron's teachers from school is going to watch them. That'll work out great.

No cavities for either me or Aron at the dentist last weekend.

The Barbara Streisand concert was wonderful. Sorry I never hit the highlights for you all. It was divine. I could've sat there for days. Ol' girl can't hit the high notes any more, but who cares? She's still her!

Christmas is at our house this year! Should be exciting.

Mommy's Little Hippie

I buckled under the pressure and finally took Nate to the Barber Shop. He is 20 months old! [SOB!] I loved his long locks, but even I had to admit it was time for a cut when a stranger at the grocery proclaimed "her" a cutie. Enjoy the before, during and after pics. During wasn't too bad, but he wasn't a big fan of the electric clippers. His lolly was covered with hair mid-way through and he was agitated by that, but the barber was a pro and done in less than 10 minutes. I have a lock of that sweet baby hair to keep, of course.

Niki & Ehren Forever

My wonderful friend Niki married the love of her life, Ehren, last weekend. Here are some of the photos. Credit for some goes to my husband, but most of these photos were by an exceptional Indy-area photographer, Leslie Stedman. Please visit her website.

It's late and I'm feeling ragged, so I will hit the highlights for you soon. Hopefully I will also have more photos to post! If you were there and you've got some, email me!!!

Here comes the happy couple!

I love this picture. Sheer joy.

Time to take a load off!

A beautiful cake that I didn't get to eat one piece of, because, frankly, I was too busy guzzling champagne.

All the Ohio University Alums in attendance: Clint, John, Traci, Niki, Moi, and Anita.

Anita, Moi, Anita's daughter Tori (named after me; the greatest honor of my life) and Julia.

Traci (with Emma in the oven) and me.

Anita, Niki and Moi. This is probably the last picture of the evening, but you can still feel the love.

Like BUTTAH

For my birthday, Summer is taking moi to see Babs this Friday. I am so insanely excited about this, I may cry. J'adore Babs. Expect the full report next Saturday.

Trailer Tales

Another smashing day in court today, my friends. Today, a bench trial for a man charged with disorderly conduct (fighting). He represented himself. Beauty part: his wife filmed the entire altercation with a video camera through the trailer window. Defendant did not object to the admission of the video, in fact, he wanted the judge to see it. Or, he thought he did. Unfortunately it showed the defendant had ample opportunity to retreat and call the police and that he threw the first punch. So he was guilty (fine = $100).

We open with a view of a palatial trailer park where numerous shirtless, shoeless, long-haired children are running about. Herding them are black t-shirt and black jeans-wearing adults, waiving their arms about like, well, apes trying to defend their territory and scare off other rival apes. The non-verbal communication is fascinating. We couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but I'm telling you the body language came straight from the wild kingdom. More proof of evolution, me thinks.

Highlights included a one-legged woman on crutches trying to intervene between the combatants, then getting tossed aside like a broken rag doll. Next, two really large ladies pulling bleached hair, slapping and wrestling in a disjointed dance of undulating, exposed mid-drifts. There were about twenty people -- and young kids, remember -- fighting, kicking, slapping and screaming.

It was a pathetic moment in human history. It was all we could all do to keep from laughing our asses off. I thought, "Oh my." Then the defendant turned to look at me and I realized I said it out loud.

The beast rears its head

Our local Democratic Party website is a hoot. Check out this link, which refereshed the news page and gives updates on Wally World news. It seems to be pulling the news from Wal-Mart Watch, a site happy to provide you numerous reasons why you shouldn't ever shop there.

I is a lawyer

News, news, news, my friends. I am now gainfully employed full-time as an attorney. I start tomorrow with a very well-established and respected local firm. I'll be continuing my work as prosecutor, plus handling real estate, property, estates and probate and divorce law. Upside is that I can work full-time and start making the long-anticipated lawyer money, which is sorely need to pay the long-ignored student loans. Downside is that I no longer get to hang with the rugrats all day after court adjourns in the a.m. Oh well. Can't have it all. Like other working moms, I'm sure I'll salve my guilt by buying them toys and spoiling them beyond recognition. I will proceed to further self-medicate by buying that Mercedes Benz sedan I've wanted since childhood. What? Don't I deserve a Mercedes? Yes, I do. But I probably won't get one for many, many years to come. If ever. Because the next vehicle purchase will be a minivan. Snore.

29 and holding ...

9/11 is not just a wholly depressing day in history. It is also my birthday. Kind of a drag, but I can't complain. I'm just hoping most people will totally forget about my birthday and I can go on being 29 forever. It's never too early to become a "woman of a certain age."

He's everywhere, and I'm ... confused

Little Richard is everywhere. He's on that new Celebrity Duets show, which I only watched one time because my mom was visiting and she seemed interested to watch it. I don't watch competition shows like American Idol anymore. Truth is, I can't be bothered to spend my valuable time listening to people who have no talent. I'll stick with my Barbra, Simon & Garfunkel, The Beatles, etc.

But anyway, back to Little Richard. I haven't seen that much pancake since my last visit to IHOP. And to my horror he was on Sesame Street yesterday singing [butchering] "Rubber Duckie." It's just weird. I guess everybody has to work what they have, but I'm not sure what he has any more. I didn't understand half the stuff he said on Celebrity Duets.

Why am I posting about this? Bored, I guess. But isn't this a great pic of him with The Beatles? I note Ringo looks a bit freaked out. As if he's thinking, "How much longer do I have to touch this guy and sit here smiling ..."

Gorgeous

Her father may be a crazy person, but Baby Suri is absolutely gorgeous, no? Look at that hair! Those eyes! Makes me say, "Shiloh who?"

Fairly Fun

Here's the boys at the Stark County Fair last weekend. Unfortunately, I forgot to take photos of the fair freaks, which is my hobby when we are at the various county fairs throughout the summer. I started that about two years ago when I was pregnant and couldn't ride any of the fair rides. Last weekend along the fairway, we dodged lots of women who looked like Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders, twenty years and fifty pounds later than her heyday. Chrissie still looks like the rock royalty she is, but these women were far from rocking her look. Sorry this reporter let you down, but you'll just have to use your imagination! What's even more entertaining than the photos of the freaks is me photographing them without their noticing. It's a skill. But I may very well get the crap beat out of me by a very large, unattractive woman in the future.

Anyway, here's the boys, zooming around on the car rides.

Triumph!

Nate got the memo. At the end of last week, Mr. StubbornNateTeenyPants decided to start saying "Mama." Thank goodness, for I was under the impression that I had offended him or something. As if it were his way of getting back at me for all the ridiculous nicknames. But, even though I had to wait 18 months for this moment, I must say, it's totally worth it.

Mema & Grandpa's House

The Mamarazzi stalks Mr. Pretty: so gorgeous, yet so ticked off! "Can't I even take a stroll through my grandparents' yard without you people bothering me?"

Mr. Biggersons waters the garden with gusto.

Forget this. Let's cool off in the sprinkler and pretend this ice bucket is a pool!

Reenactor in the making: a witness on the grassy knoll in Dallas.

Don't just stand there, bust a move!

First Day of School

Here's our big handsome man, off to his first day of school. Notice how he conquers riding the bus as if he's been doing it his whole life. I was more freaked out than he was! But he's so big and we are so proud.

Kurt: Man of Many Talents

Forgot to tell you guys that on Monday, Kurt replaced a belt on our old car that shredded and fell apart, taking the power steering with it. All by himself. With his socket set. It was very cute and quite impressive, since he knows how to check and fill fluids and that's about it. Told you guys he was good at flippin' everything. I'll claim some of the credit: I told him to at least try it, because I've known some really stupid mechanics in my life and if they can figure out how to fix a car, my geekazoid, computer genius husband certainly can. I was right! Plus, again, he's just good at everything.

For the love of PETE, just SAY it!!!!

Nate is a stubborn little bugger. He says quite a few words, including things like combine and helicopter. He knows the names of his friends and babysitters. He identifies various animals and tells me what noises they make. He calls Aron both "Arn" and "Bruddah." When Kurt gets home he RUNS to the door, points at him and screams "DA-DA! DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

But he will NOT say "Mama." No amount of begging, pleading, repeating or bribing aids me in this endeavor. He simply will not say it.

This is a bit unnerving, since "Mama" was Aron's first and favorite word. Nate's first word? It's in the baby book downstairs, and I don't recall offhand. But it wasn't Mama. Harrumph.

Still here

I am not sure about the possible success, or not, of moving this entire blog to a different URL. I don't want to lose what has been my diary for this last year. I'm going to do some research and find out if it is safe. Until then, I'll still be here.

Mountain Mama

Yeah, I changed my posting name. I told you I was trying to go incognito! And it's a tip of the hat to John Denver and his song "Country Roads." Because it's one of the best songs ever. And that's a picture of the Blue Ridge Mountains, beneath which I was raised, thank you very much.

By the way, are you listening to enough music these days? Think about it.

Incognito

Hey, everyone. I am going to be changing my URL to something new, and I think that www.happyfam.blogger.com is what I'll be going with. It's not taken as of today, so on or about Wednesday, I'm going to switch over. Now that my name is "out there," I need to make sure that this blog is read only by those who are invited to read it. So please make a note of that new URL, and see you at the new addy in a few days.

Ugh, gross.

Are they not the most vile couple ever conceived? I don't think I've ever seen her smile. And, I don't wish divorce on anyone, but for these two, please. The writing was on the wall from the get-go. They say you only get one true counterpart/match/love in your life. You may not find him/her until your fifth marriage, but, she/he is out there. For Sir Paul, it was Lady Linda. Not this uber-thin eurotrash, what with her one-legged dancing and all, right, Summer?

We win

Well, the guy pled to both charges this morning; not lesser charges, but the original charges of domestic violence and obstruction of official business. This was after some tense moments when the judge basically was not going to allow the guy to plead because the jury was there and everyone was ready to go.

In chambers the defense attorney and I met with the judge, because we had evidentiary issues to discuss; we were primarily the 911 call. Long story short, the courtroom has no way to play digital computer files. I had to bring my own laptop in to play the .wav file. My laptop cord promptly exploded when I plugged it in. I could play the 911 tape for the judge, but there was no way that my battery life would last for the remainder of the trial. Partially as a result of that, the judge allowed the plea and released the jury.

I'm relieved we got a conviction, because it was vital in getting these people the help they needed. I'm tapped out on adrenaline, though.

Kurt took yesterday afternoon off to watch the kids so I could prepare. And Jim took more time and gave me more specific advice than anyone else to help me get ready. You guys rock.

Moderately bummed that I didn't get a chance to try the case, though. I had almost 10 witnesses. I was ready to party, so to speak. Ah well, it's going to happen at some point in the future.

Let justice be served

Hey, friends. Tomorrow I have my first jury trial. I'll hit the highlights for you tomorrow afternoon. From this vantage point, I'd say we can win it. But it's out of my hands once it goes to the jury.

Bronze Mini-God

"My cocoa pretty brings the girls to the yard, and they're like, he's better than yours, damn right, he's better than yours, he could teach you, but he'd have to charge."

Why this moronic song by Kelis has been forever changed and is part of Nate's original 2006 summer soundtrack, I cannot say. Well I could: I watched a SNL rerun and saw Kelis singing it and well, what happened next is the result of my inability to make more headway on my hobbies.

But Nate's all tan, like a little bronze god (you know, a cast idol), and with that crown of sun-bleached hair, he's answering to yet another nickname: Mr. Cocoa Pretty. And the girls do come running; plus he charms the mommies at the mall play area. Flippin' great.

Four hours? That's plenty of sleep

Note the time of this post. I am up, because I can't sleep. I have my first jury trial next Friday and I just woke up thinking about the Rules of Evidence.

It's a domestic violence charge and the victim does not want to go forward, so I have to figure out how to prosecute her boyfriend (and the father of her kids) without her testimony. Tonight I'll be familiarizing myself with the exicted utterances exception and the statements made for the purposes of medical treatment exception to the rules of evidence. Basically, hearsay is admissible if the victim made her statements for those two above reasons. Plus I've got to voir dire the jury, and hell if I know what to do.

I'm freaking out a bit. I'm not nervous, I just want to make sure all the stuff I learned in school is actually what we have to do in real life. I need to know specifically what to do.

Now watch me do all this preparation and the the guy pleads. He'd better, because I will recommend the max jail sentence and fines if he does not. I'm not tripping on power, really. I'm a prosecutor. I'm here to do justice, just like Daredevil, the superhero who in real life is a blind lawyer. That's him pictured here.

I'm just glad I don't have to wear a superhero suit. I'm pretty sure I'd lose some credibility with the jury and the mommy body would look pretty sad encased in tight, red leather.

Birthday Boy

Sometimes I never want my soft, sweet little babies to grow up. I find that the joy of knowing and loving them consumes me, and I wonder what I will do with my days when they are grown and gone.

I'm sure I'll manage.

We had fun at A's party, and A got lots of cool stuff. He really liked his Harry Potter cake and informs me he'll be Harry Potter for Halloween. Sorry there aren't more photos, but Kurt took mostly video. I guess I'll be taking over the designated photographer duties in the future and letting Kurt open presents. Seems only fair.

Ted for Guv'nuh

OK, all you Ohioans, "guv'nuh" is what we call the chief executive officer of a state in the South. Up here, I hope we'll be calling him Governor Strickland in January.

I expect everyone to be registered to vote and to motor on out to the polls this fall. May I humbly suggest that you seriously consider voting for Ted Strickland, who is in my opinion, the only worthy candidate for governor this year. Learn more about him at his website. He's a minister, a psychologist and a professor. He's smart, sensitive and very motivated. He's steadily moved through Ohio politics for some years and has demonstrated his commitment to justice and to the people (ALL the people) of Ohio.

A few weeks ago his wife, Frances, was here in Bittytown and I'm here to tell you, she was SO nice. Yes, I did take this picture of her. I wanted to get a pic with her, but I chickened out. I know, you're thinking, "Tori, chicken out?" Yeah, I just didn't want to look like a groupie.

There were maybe 20 of us who got to sit with her and speak one on one. She was very sweet, a great guitar player and had written some hilarious songs about her husband. It was great to see a potential first lady a pickin' and a grinnin', since typically all they do is the grinnin'. Like her husband, she is also Dr. Strickland, and her degree is also in psychology.

I feel that Ted has the strength of character, the experience and the demeanor of a governor. He has wonderful ideas about where our state needs to go forward and what has to be done to make that happen. I urge you to vote for him in November.

Hair you go

As promised, Schweetie McSchweetersons and Mr. McBiggie.

Yeah, I'm here

Blogger is not letting me upload images tonight. Sorry, since I was planning on updating.

Well, I guess I'm up

Old age is really setting in around here. I want to go to bed at 9 p.m. and get up at 6 a.m. When I'm up that early I sit around twiddling my thumbs, wondering why everyone else isn't up.

Actually, I'm having trouble sleeping. I wake up thinking my cell phone is being called. The police will call me if they make an arrest overnight and I need to be present for the arraignment. I wake up thinking about cases, or something else that I need to do.

This morning my cat, Tiger, who's supposed to spend the night outside, walked into my room and meowed. That was his way of saying, "get your @$$ out of bed and gimme my canned food, beyotch." He has a potty mouth and bad manners: he's been peeing on the carpet. I am going to be getting him a dog kennel so he can sleep in that overnight. He can't be trusted anymore. I never thought I would think of my other cat, Luna, as my good cat.

My parents are in for Aron's FIFTH birthday. I feel like I need to be issued a walker and orthopedic shoes: my baby is FIVE tomorrow! Only thirteen years until college.

Pardon me while I vent

I look for a new job every day. Not because I hate my job now, because I don't; I love it. I look for a new job because my current job pays sheeeeyit. Actually, it pays less than that.

But some of my favorite sites are like this one, which is posted on my school's online alumni career center. Scroll down and check how they basically don't want your resume unless you when to at least a top 40 school, and beyond that you'll have to be top of your class. These are the jobs that pay through the spleen. Sure, you work 100 hours a week, leaving you just 68 hours to sleep, eat and drive back and forth to work. But you get paid. And for a few years, that would be nice.

What I'm really jealous of is that somewhere someone is under the impression that these other young lawyers are smarter or better researchers/writers ('cause they ain't litigating crap for at least five years or more) than me because U.S. News & World Report rated their school much, much higher than my fourth-tier alma mater. Put me in same room with those people, and give me a file and a computer. I dare you to tell the difference between my work and theirs.

Bah. Sour grapes. Too bad I can't put "had two kids in law school" on my resume. Then I would totally get the job. NOT.

Plus, I'm also fairly hacked that every job I look at won't give you the time of day until you've been an attorney for three years. Most want five or ten years of prior experience. I need a career remote with a fast-forward button.

And, frankly, I'm really tired of being poor. I know, aren't we all? But when I look at that stack of bills every month, all I can think of is that yes, I really, really wanted to be a lawyer, but it doesn't seem worth it.

I have never been under the impression this would be easy. Especially since Jim has been lawyering for almost three years now and he told me, multiple times, that the grass was not greener on the other side of the bar exam. I accepted that. But it's easier to nod your head in agreement that the river is deep than to tread water when you're neck deep in the middle of it.

Sorry. I know you stop by for the funnies. But they can't all be good days. So sue me. I know a good lawyer who can't get a job and has all the time in the world to deal with this.

Marlboro Country

I love this picture. It's true, smokers are second class citizens.

By the way, doin' good on the stopping smoking campaign. Haven't had one since Monday. But I have consumed quite a bit of chocolate.

My dirty little secret

I started smoking when I was 18 years old. Why? I have no idea. I saw other kids at college doing it. It looked mysterious. And of course, it was forbidden. I spent many, many years under the tight reigns of over-protective parents. I looked at smoking as a way to carve out a piece of my adulthood. To be really naughty. But it has been a screeching, chest thumping monkey on my back for years.

I've quit maybe 20 times. I've been able to go months, even years without a smoke. I didn't smoke while I was pregnant or nursing (and if I snuck one while nursing, I'd pump-n-dump milk). I've quit cold turkey, I've quit using the patch.

But something always happens. I always start again. Usually there's some stressor that triggers it. I think, "I need a smoke." It's immediate, it's necessary, it's vital. Either I get one RIGHT NOW or someone's head it going to be bitten clean off. So I get one, in one of two ways. Typically I will bum one. If I bum one, I feel guilty, because I know that smokes are $4 a pack now. But bumming turns me into a junkie. I don't know when I'm going to get my next fix, so I get nervous and paranoid. When will I see another smoker soon? Will I really ask a total stranger for a smoke? Yes. I will beg a total stranger for a cigarette.

So then I graduate to option two: buying a pack. It always starts with the same internal dialogue. "Now look, these are expensive so you can only have one a day." But then it turns into one in the morning and one after lunch and one after dinner ... then more get squeezed in as the days progress.

This is what addicts do. We convince ourselves that we can handle it, that we can regulate our intake. But that's the Catch 22 about addiction -- your membership in the club has benefits, including the ability to bullsh*t yourself into thinking you can handle your drug of choice. There is no room for regulation of an addiction. It is absolute and relentless. You can't just do it a little bit. If you can, it's not an addiction.

Not all my friends know I smoke. Those that find out I do are quite shocked usually, I don't strike them as "the kind of person who smokes." I take that to mean that I don't strike them as a complete moron. I guess I appreciate not that, but typically I just feel more guilty that I am lying to everyone. That being a smoker is yet another part of my personality, but one I feel compelled to hide because I am so embarassed by it.

And I am embarassed. I am not proud in the least to be a smoker. I am one of those self-hating smokers. I'm glad that smoking has been banned in many public places. I know it's stupid, I know that no person of even meager intelligence at this moment in time could be under the impression that every cigarette smoked is just another nail in his of her coffin.

Why am I fessing up? Because I have to quit. I have to stop. I have to get the point in my life where I deal with stress instead of kill it with smoke. I'm doing fairly well, I ran out last week and I have not bought any since. I may have bummed on Monday.

But I've got my heart in the right place; I have no intention to do this anymore. Moral support on this issue is welcome.

No bleepin' fair!

Whah? Who? This lawyer/writer gets to hang out with the Dixie Chicks on tour and write their blog? Arrgh! How do I get that gig? Pardon me while I go throw a tantrum.

Oh, and according to Prof. Junichi, the chicks do searches for the phrase "Dixie Chicks Suck" on a regular basis. I totally get that. On a much smaller scale, I want to know who's hatin' on me, so I can counteract their negative energy with a preprepared snappy comeback. And you know, the sad thing about haters: they keep on hatin' because they have nothing of value to contribute. So, it's not some kind of weird obsession on the Chicks' part, it's more of a diversion, much like playing a PS2 or getting your nails done: "Well, I've had a long, productive day rocking the free world; let's see who's jealous as sin."

Anyway, maybe my Chicks will come upon this blog while doing their daily search and decide that me and five of my closest friends simply MUST be given complimentary backstage passes to the Columbus show July 23. That would be swell, because that $50 ticket price buys a month's worth of diapers. C'mon, Chicas, help a fellow working mommy out!

This job is going to rock

Things are going swimmingly around here. I've had a couple of days on the job and it looks like I am going to be able to handle it. So, that's a relief, what with my imposter syndrome (kidding, kind of). But, oh man, are there going to be some GREAT stories to tell. And it's all public record (see! That journalism degree comes in handy!), so I can share the details with great abandon. Heck, I could even use their real names.

Like today: a man and woman were arrested last night for robbing the local Burger Thang. She was a former employee, so she knew the lay of the land. He was her toothless, wrinkly boyfriend. The burst in wearing pantyhose over their heads and ski masks (damn, that must have been HOT) and held the joint at bay with a BB gun. Yep. A BB gun. Beauty part is that they actually succeeded in getting the employees to empty the safe, but as they motored out the back, two employees jumped and overpowered them.

The felony prosecutor handled their arraignment (both had bond set at $100,000 -- you're on notice now that you do NOT try to rob the Burger Thang here in Bittytown). But it was hilarious to look at these morons and think, man, crime DOES pay. Because it exists at least in part to amuse the heck out of me.

Let me tell you something about parenthood

Mommy's poopy baby (with a little cat scratch on the nose; lesson learned: don't mess with the cat).

I'm going to quickly dispense with the concept that this is all "worth it." Well, yes, of course, all the trials of being a parent are worth it. You will never know how much you can love something until you have a child. You may think you love your spouse, partner, etc., but I am here to tell you, it won't even approach the totality of love you will feel for your child.

However, let me tell you that there will be days. Like today. I'm in the kitchen, trying to cook, and I hear Nate complaining. He's just making a low, hacked off, uhh, uhh noise. No big deal; he does that when his blocks won't go together right or that a toy car's door won't open. I take my time and finish what I am doing, then go check on him.

There is liquid human feces EVERYWHERE. All over the carpet, all over him, his hands, his feet, his hair, his arms. Up his back, down the legs of his jammies. He's been sick for a few days and vomited in his bed about three nights ago. I do what I can to clean him off with baby wipes, cart him at arm's length upstairs to the bath tub, disinfect him.

Then I have to scrub the carpet, which thankfully is dark, so it won't show baby poop stains. Then I have to get the baby crap out of the jammies, which I would otherwise have thrown away, but couldn't bring myself to because they are cute. And jammies are expensive.

So parents, you know where I am coming from. But parents to be: steel yourselves. There will be days of liquid poop. Hours after changing a diaper and washing your hands, while you are eating a sandwich, you will find a small piece of baby poop under your nail. You will be thrown up on in a public restaurant. You will get pink eye, the stomach flu, and your personal property will get destroyed by the mere normal wear and tear dealt by a toddler.

And yeah, yeah, it's worth it. But I just thought you ought to be on notice.

We lurve the zoo

I'm rough and I'm tough. I'm four.

The komodo dragon doesn't scare me.

Tame goats are better than dogs, because the don't jump on you. Maybe we should get a goat.

Pardon me, but I find myself summarily unimpressed.

What shall become known as Aron's "Rodin period."

Movin' right along

I got that part time position! I'll be a solicitor, which is basically a prosecutor, for a small town. I'll advise their council, write ordinances and prosecute their misdemeanor crimes. It will probably take 1-2 days a week of time.

I'm really excited about this because I would like to work for the government and I would really like to end up as a prosecutor.

I'm so glad that I can quit my other job and finally start being home with my family again in the evenings. That's what really matters.

Another fine Microsoft product

Well, thanks to the fine minds at Microsoft, my flippin' Microsoft Outlook has totally messed up all your birthdays, anniversaries and other important dates to remember. For some reason it advanced them or moved them back. This development is quite unnerving, what with my ADD and general inability to remember just about anything. Please email me (personally, don't post) your birthdays, anniversaries, kids' birthdays and stuff. Thanks.

By the way, this is my 100th post! It's no surprise to any of you, I'm sure, that I have so much to say.

Well, good luck with that.

This is a blurb from my local bar association's newsletter:

Law School in Two Years Flat
From The National Law Journal

At the University of Dayton School of Law, 40 students are participating in a new program that will allow them to complete course work for a juris doctor degree in two years. The chance to shave a year off student expenses and get on with life after law school may be one reason that the school's applications are up 13 percent, despite a decline in law school applications nationwide. The school is believed to be the first to offer a five-semester, 24-month accelerated schedule.

BWAHAHAHAHAAAA! You crazy, crazy kids. And if you aren't crazy now, you soon will be.

Serially unmotivated, perennially optimistic: time for new hobbies

I have had a few long-term goals in place for a while now. I think I'd like to share because I find that when I mention them to others, y'all tend to get on my case about not doing something about it. I need that, because I am not much of a self-starter. I'm not. I know that getting started has always been the biggest hurdle to any project for me. Once I am going, I'm a machine. I can't be diverted, I can't be stopped. But in reality, I'd have to say that procrastination, delay and generally ignoring stuff has been a way of life for me.

Anyway, since Jim & Karen's moving wedding last year, officiated by a darling woman who expounded upon the joys of marrying people, I decided that I am going to become an ordained minister and licensed to perform marriages in the state. Why? 'Cause weddings flippin' rock. And plus it's like a two-day process and costs next to nothing. And I can put my name in the phone book and get last minute calls for shotgun weddings, or backyard garden weddings, or perhaps officiate the wedding of a friend, ala Joey at Chandler and Monica's wedding.

And dude, I can give them my other card just in case things don't work out. I believe any truly successful business provides for all its customers' needs.

Next, I have decided to learn Spanish. All that study of German in high school and college really hasn't proven to be that advantageous professionally, since I decided not to backpack through Europe then settle down and wait tables in Hamburg.

I'm going to study some CD-ROMs I've got then try to find some people with whom to converse. It's going to be a long-term process, but I know that it will be really rewarding. And plus, you can't stop learning. Else your brain will shrivel up and you'll start forgetting to wear deodorant. Then no one will want to hang out with you.

And I'm finally going to start running again. The running program has been on hold for six years. How I am I going to look like Madonna at her age (or any age, for that matter) if my typical workout consists of nothing more than opening the screen on this laptop?

Anyone who wants to share in the joys of these new hobbies is welcome to drop me a line.

Being a sport is wearing thin

Well, like I didn't know it was going to happen, but working for the world's largest DIY lawn and gardening company is starting to become a bit tedious. I am finding that I can't get a damn thing done on the lawyering thing. I am biding my time until I get a lead on a decent part-time job (yes, as a lawyer) and if it comes through, then I can move along. But I'm really feeling run down and out of it these days. Full time mommying, then working until 10 p.m. every night, then working at least one weekend day ... I am too pooped to do even the most basic of lawyering. Anyway, I smell a two week notice a cookin'.

In other news, I planted some herbs in containers a few weeks ago and they are doing great. I'm making fresh pesto from my basil tomorrow for dinner. I also bought some tomato plants to put in containers.

Kurt and I are starting to prepare a garden, too. We'll be digging up the sod then introducing soil amendments and compost to the plot. It should be ready for next year. We have been talking about it for years. My grandmothers both had incredible gardens. I have really great memories of being in the garden and eating things that were alive mere seconds before I popped them into my mouth (yes, they were vegetables). Kurt's parents still have a really nice garden, though my parents had to give up theirs because the deer wouldn't stop eating everything.

See? I'm too tired to even write an interesting entry.

Summer Begins for Nate