Adventures East Of The Columbia River

I'm the kind of person who will do something SOLELY for the sake of being able to say that I did something. My philosophy is to live your life so that you have stories to tell. This philosophy has guided me through many crazy little adventures and life tangents.

It's the reason I ate aligator on a stick and ostrich burgers at the Taste of Chicago in 2004. It's the reason I went to Space Camp in highschool . . . and put an unwrapped BabyRuth on the floor of the women's shower. It's (one of) the reason(s) I eloped. This philosophy has also led me to dance on top of many bars in my short life (Ok, fine. It was three bars). It inspired me to eat my friend's Mystery Pizza in middleschool (you don't want to know and yes, it tasted horrible).

aIt's the reason I skipped the only class I ever skipped in highschool and the reason I went home with the divorced elementary school teacher I met at a bar on my 21st birthday (he turned out to be a gentleman and slept on the couch, I swear). It's the reason I made my group of fellow law student volunteers walk three miles so I could ride the train in downtown New Orleans just for one stop.

This philosophy of mine has landed me one step from the beaten path on many occassions. And now that I've stopped going home with strangers and (mostly) dancing on bars, I still drag my family along on little adventures while we are on vacation. Never content to sit on the sideline and enjoy the freshness of a new place from pure observation alone, I'm the person who makes you try new things just fo the reason that it is new and therefore, "adventurous." I'm the person who takes pictures of everything she sees while on vacation. The one who makes you pose oddly with inanimate objects. The one who squeals over famous and not so famous landmarks and enjoys staying in any hotel just for the fact that, OMG, it's a HOTEL!

Last weekend my family and I drove out to Spokane for a mini family re-union. Aside from the five hour car ride with my mom, dad, little brother, husband and toddler, it was pretty fun. And I got to do some ADVENTUROUS things!

Celebrity Corner

Boyz II Men came to my town! They didn't go to Seattle. They didn't play at a fancy casino. They played at a historic venue practically in MY BACKYARD! It was the most amazing show I have ever seen.

We were three tables from the stage. That's three tables from their amazing, synchronized-pelvic-thrusting dance moves. Three tables from the source of their amazing sound. Three tables away from THEM! They sounded so amazing, they definitely did not dissapoint. The whole time I couldn't believe I was actually seeing them sing in person. I told my husband we have to name our next son Wanya....

I'm embarassed to say that when they sang their song, "mama" and dedicated it to all the moms in the audience, I was tearing up all over the place. I'm a little horrified. When did I become that person? That person who cries at everything? Can I just chalk it up to the power of their music? Let's just go with that.

But we're just getting to the good part. Thanks to my husband's connections, we finagled our way to a pair of VIP meet and greet back stage passes! As we wandered the backstage corridor, I got so nervous! OMG. What will I say to them? I didn't want to sound lame but I didn't want to sound like an obsessive groupie either. It turned out to be very laid back and casual and they were so generous. We shook their hands, posed for a quick photo and got their autographs. It went by so fast, I barely remember it.

But I do remember that they smelled really, really good. And I'll never wash my hand again.

The Mondayest Monday

This week I had the Monday of all Mondays. And it was actually a Tuesday.

Thanks to the long Memorial Day weekend, Tuesday was my Monday. And yes, my billable hours are going to suffer for that. But let's not think about that right now.

When we got home from the coast, instead of finding a happy envelope containing my bar card waiting for me, I found a sad, wrinkled, wet and waterstained envelope containing my returned bar application. I'm not even sure why the post office returned it. It had nothing on it telling me what was wrong with it! I was so mad! This was the second time it had been returned to me (the first time, I didn't put enough postage).

So on my Tuesday-Monday I decided to hand deliver my application on my way to the office. After scouring the block where the bar association was supposed to be and walking into wrong buildings for like 10 minutes, I found the bar association across the street, marked clearly by a sign with big bold letters. Ooops. Dur.

I crossed the street and walked into the building. Then I got into the wrong set of elevators and ended up on an entirely wrong floor. I finally made my way back to the lobby where I eventually found the elevator that would take me to the correct floor. I marched proudly into the bar association office in my slacks and sneakers and then, not so proudly, handed over my still-wet and water stained bar application.

When I handed the receptionist my application, I couldn't for the life of me remember the word for "wet." I looked at her and said, "Sorry my application is..... uh.... watery." She looked across the table at the weird girl in green sneakers (that would be me) and probably mistook me for a legal messenger (but at least I didn't smell like one- man why do they all stink? And what's up with their weird bags?).

I finally made it to my office after stopping at Starbucks and spilling coffee down my pants. I plopped down in my office chair and not one second later an associate storms in and (frantically) asks, "Hey, can I see your appendix? Where's your appendix?"

What? I stared at him blankly for a second trying to process his statement. "You want to see my appendix? You mean like this one?" I point to my abdomen where I believe my appendix to be. He looks at me all crazy like then roars a horrendous laugh out of the gaping hole in his contorted face. "No wierdo. I need to see the appendix to your motion for reconsideration because I'm preparing one too and I want to see what yours looks like."

Oh yeah. THAT APPENDIX! Me = laughing stock of the 22nd floor office suite.

So that was my Non-Monday Monday. Phew.

Oh yeah, this is the icing on the cake: at one point in the day I was on a semi-important phone call with one of our experts. We started to discuss the case and the science that would support our position on a liability issue. He starts to say something really important but I can't find a pen to jot the information down. I have the phone tucked between my ear and my shoulder and I'm using two hands to surf around the top of the desk, pushing stacks of paper everywhich way to locate that DANG PEN. I give up and open my "pen" drawer where I find one blue, one red and one green CRAYON. Don't ask why I have crayons in my desk.

So yes, I took down a super important note with a flashy blue crayon. I couldn't help smiling from ear to ear each time I pressed the blue tip to my notepad. In fact, I think I should use crayon more often....I wonder what the partners would think if I handed them a note in blue crayon?

The Weekend Parent

I knew this day was coming. I dreaded it since the day my son was born. I've been anticipating it for quite some time. My wishful thinking made me believe that it was still many months away.....but no, my kid's language skills have suddenly sharpened- seemingly overnight too. And he is now able to repeat everything he hears! Someone save me!

Just how bad is it? Well, yesterday my son said "oh crap" when he tripped on a rock. Later that day he called me a "douche puddle" (the phrase my husband and I use instead of "douche bag"). BUT I'm still hanging onto my steadast yet unrealistic hope that those phrases were just a temporary blip and that they won't make it into Jacob's permanent vocabulary. We've been trying really REALLY hard to watch our language around him, but it's so difficult to break old habits!

Then one time when I was changing his diaper, Jacob pointed to his "wee wee" and said, "BONER!." Yeah, oops. How did he learn that one? I mean the kid is 21 months old! He also likes to point out everyone and everything's "butt-butt." Maybe he's gonna be an ass man? That one I'm kinda ok with. I mean it's a legitimate, anatomically correct bit of knowledge, right?

Then today Jacob was opening all our boxes of crackers and snacks and pouring them onto the floor. I looked at him and said, "No Jacob. Bad boy!" Probably not the choicest words at the moment but it's easy to judge in hindsight. He ran out of the room, laughing and saying, "No! Mama bad boy!" Touche Jacob, touche.

Aside from that drama, the weekend was great. We went down to Seaside, Oregon then to Cannon Beach to celebrate the three-day weekend, our elopment-versay and my birthday (I turned 21 for the fifth time, thank you very much). The weather was rainy and grey, but hey, I'm a Seattleite so that's nothing new to me. From having grown up in predictably drizzly weather, knowing how to have a fun day in the rain is part of my DNA. Although, I admit if the sun had come out, our "fun" trip could have been an "amazing" trip.
Anyways, since I had a baby, family vacations are less about location and more about family. We could have stayed at the local Super 8 just five miles from our house and still have had a blast. Just spending the entire weekend as a family, with minimal interruptions, is pretty much all I could ever ask for. It's so fun to take Jacob to new places or to old places that become "new" all over again. It's fun to watch him learn, to try new things and to learn new words (mostly). At a restaurant this weekend there was a poster of different types of fish. Jacob was fascinated by it. He took his little shovel and pretended to scoop up the "ishies." Then he ran over to where my husband and I were sitting and proudly fed his catch to us. He repeated this over and over for about fifteen minutes straight.
Since Jacob was born, our weekends are just so filled with love and laughter. It's almost unbearable how amazing it is to have a wonderful kid in your life. It also makes it so hard to think about going to work tomorrow. Long weekends like this make me reconsider my life as a working mom. I get so caught up in the fun that I forget about the days when I was dying to get out of the house to start work again. Today, after an amazing 64 hours with my son, I'm kind of longing to stay home with him all day, to watch him grow and to teach him new things.
The grass is always greener, perhaps. And perhaps once I step into my office tomorrow, I'll be glad to be back. When I start to miss him I'll just imagine him as he was this evening, sitting in his kid chair (which he placed on top of the couch) singing the "abc" song while doing "itsy bitsy spider" hand motions.

Welcome To Family Time On Steroids

I live and breath for the weekends to come. I know everyone else in their right mind does the same so this doesn't make me unique in any way. But STILL. I'll say it again. I LIVE for the weekends. Weekends at my house are so completely wonderful and a major contrast to the stressful work week.

During the week, I only get to be with my family in passing. And when I'm with them, I'm usually pre-occupied with other stuff. You know, IMPORTANT THINGS- like whether I can get away with wearing my favorite shirt to the office twice in one week. Or whether we have enough diapers to get through the week without resorting to turning them inside out (don't worry, I'm not that gross- I only turn the wet ones inside out). By the time the weekend comes, I totally miss my guys and I'm starving for family time. Considering how little we hang out during the week, by the timd Friday afternoon hits, we have a lot of catching up to do. So that's why I love weekends. Weekends are 48+ straight hours of family time on steroids. It's unadulteratedly awesome.

Today we couldn't decide whether to take Jacob to the children's museum or to the aquarium. At the last minute, we settled on the museum- I thought he would like something more hands on. But 2 minutes after we walking through the doors, we knew we made the wrong choice. Within our first 2 minutes there, Jacob was already flipping HIS LID in excitement over a lame-ass 4 foot long fish tank. Seriously Jacob? A handfull of goldfish swimming around in muddy water is really that amazing to you? But it must have been because there he was screeching, "Mama! Fishy! Two Fishy! Fishy, MaMa, FISHY!"


He was totally freaked out by some of the exhibits at first. Like the big whale mouths you could climb into... I wasn't afraid though, I had to show Jacob how it was done (please ignore my freakishly flat ass, thank you- oh and the dark blob at the bottom, that's the shadow of the monster that hunts and feeds off the souls of the flat of ass).

He also didn't like the replicated forest exhibit complete with bat-sounds and, gulp, bugs. EW. You can see how excited he was about this exhibit:

But eventually, we did find some things that were right up his alley.

I think this kid has some serious potential to be a bus driver.

But not a fireman. He refused to wear the flame resistant gear. Not a police biker, he can't reach the peddles. Not a produce manager, he kept trying to eat all the produce. Oh and he wasn't in love with the hard hat either.

So, bus driver it is then?

The museum was a little more lame than I had remembered. But, thankfully, Jacob had no prior memories to compare it to. And, in the end, he got what he truly wanted.

Also, we couldn't resist leaving the Seattle Center without letting Jacob go on a few rides. Last summer we took him to the state fair and the ride people wouldn't let him go on the carousel. I had a melt down and literally started bawling all over the place in the middle of the sidewalk, "My baby just wants to ride the carousel! They won't let him ride the carousel! WAAAH!!"

Yeah, it was one of those mommy-weakness moments when you feel your kid's pain. Except my kid was only 11 months old and he was completely oblivious to the fact that he couldn't ride the carousel. But don't even try to explain logic to a mother who is standing up for her baby. So, this time around, watching Jacob finally enjoy some carnival rides was like a major accomplishment for me. At first, I was worried he would be afraid. But he LOVED the rides!

We totally wore him out. And, of course, he wore us out too.

You have no idea how hard it is to return to work after a family time on steroids weekend. I may start to convulse, foam at the mouth and sweat wildly as I experience Jacob withdrawl over my morning post-commute coffee.

Swearing In Court

Wednesday was my swear-in ceremony. I originally had my heart set on being sworn in at the fancy downtown seattle courthouse with its marble floors and walls and all its prestige. But considering that my family wanted to attend and that, like me, they live across the water from Seattle, I opted to be sworn in at the small, local courthouse.

Turns out, I'm so glad I did!

I live in such a close-knit, friendly community. My husband and I used to work for a local government agency so we know many of the elected officials and other connected people. It's a great feeling to know the people around you and to feel connected to your community. While I hear the community of legal professionals seems small almost anywhere you go, it is especially so in our county. When I decided to be sworn-in at the local courthouse, I asked my old employer, the first partner I ever worked for, if he knew anyone who would be willing to perform (is that the right verb?) my oath. He suggested a judge right away and arranged the whole thing. It turns out that the judge knew my mom from highschool. The judge was also friends with my dad's boss, the Mayor of our city. So the Mayor asked to attend my ceremony. Can you believe it? The Mayor of my city attended my swear-in ceremony! I felt so important!

Also in attendance were my parents, my brother, my parents-in law, my sister-in law and her family, my husband, son, my old boss and his paralegal and legal secretary. It was quite the turn out, especially for an individual ceremony. I was pretty nervous to appear in front of the judge and take my oath, especially since I was the only one taking it. When the Judge started to read the oath and asked me repeat after her, I thought it would be tacky to just read off the paper in front of me. So, instead, I tried to keep my eyes on the Judge and rely on my auditory skills and memory to recite after her. This worked out fine until about halfway through when the Judge started to recite a phrase that seemed to continue on forever. "Oh shit," I thought to myself as she was mid-sentence. When she finished, I'm sure she saw the fear in my eyes as I had to scour the paper in front of me to try to find that last sentence.

After an awkward minute of silence, I finally found it and tried to repeat it back with all the confidence I could muster. But my nerves were already shot. As I tried to pronounce the word "judiciary" my whole mouth seemed to go numb and my lips fumbled over each other. I just couldn't pronounce the word. Instead I recited, "Dujici...jiducia...judiciary!" My guests got a good chuckle out of that one.

Awesome. My first appearance before the court as an attorney and I almost turned it into a circus. But the Judge was kind enough to pretend that it didn't happen. And I have to say that I felt the power behind the words when I swore to uphold the Constitution of the State of Washington and of the United States.

After the oath, the Judge let my parents give speeches (on the record! I have proof that people said nice things about me). She let me give a mini-speech, which I was totally unprepared for. I ended up thanking everyone in the room except for my husband (sorry husband!). She noticed and let my husband have the final words, but he was too choked up and teary eyed that he couldn't say too much. It was really sweet and, it turns out, his hug said everything.

The Judge then came down to where I was standing to shake my hand. She had all kinds of pleasant and friendly things to say to me. She was the nicest person ever! She told me the legal profession was one of the best and most challenging professions out there. She encouraged me and congratulated me on my future career. Then my old boss made a joke about how he hopes to someday convince me to practice law on the "right" side of the water (my own town rather than Seattle).

It was such a great morning! I usually hate being the center of attention but I felt that this was the pinnacle of all my hard work and sacrifice. For the first time, I actually saw and felt the result of all my efforts over the past 3.5 years. But one of THE BEST PARTS of the entire morning was when the Judge let me take pictures of Jacob sitting in her chair. Here he is banging her gavel (this picture is so going to be framed and put in my office!):

(Please don't judge me that my son still uses a binky! We're trying to wean him off but it's too easy to stick it in his mouth when he starts to scream.)

Mother's Day: "Passion Rekindled"

Last year was my first mother's day and I was right smack in the middle of law school finals. I remember my first mother's day very well: sitting on the floor of my bedroom in four day old sweats typing up a last minute 20 page paper on financial institutions. For my adult life (or at least since I'd gotten pregnant), I'd kinda dreamed about how awesome my first mother's day would be. I imagined all kinds of different things: nights out, cheesy cards, a huge bouquet of spring flowers, maybe chocolates or some handmade art (ok maybe farfetched with a 9 month old kid). But it most certainly did not involve exams.

My husband had kept promising me that we'd go see a movie I wanted to see as soon as finals were over. But eventually, mother's day got pushed to the background and forgotten about. I was disappointed and let down. And, apparently, in the past 12 months, I had complained about it enough times because for Mother's Day this year, my husband went ALL out. It was like a double Mother's Day. It was all a surprise and it was all awesome.

First, my husband arranged to have my son stay with his grandparents for all day Saturday and overnight. And I was more than a little skeptical when he told me to pack my gym clothes. But he took me to the gym and we both got in a good workout- which was a great idea because I felt less guilty splurging on dinner and drinks later (he's so smart!). Then we went to see Iron Man 2. Sadly, it was not nearly as good as the first one (which I LOVED) and didn't live up to the hype. But I still had fun spending a lazy afternoon at the theater with my husband. Then we walked along a waterfront park and had yummy bakery cookies.

Then, he drove me to a fancy resort where he booked us an AMAZING room and treated me to a nice (and pricey) dinner. After dinner I got to relax in the hottub (I LOVE hottubs)!! There is nothing in the world better than slipping between fresh, crisp hotel sheets after a refreshing soak in a hottub. And, not to brag or anything, the hotel room had 16 foot ceilings!!! (my husband claims they were 20 feet- we've got a good bet going).

Maybe I'm super easy to please but nothing gets me more excited in the entire world than sleeping in a hotel (ok, maybe a giant pool filled with hershey kisses and cowboys). I don't know what it is, but I love everything about hotels. The adventure and excitement of being in a new place. The nice clean rooms. The big tv that you can watch and change channels WHILE IN BED. The smell of newly cleaned hotel bathrooms. And slipping between two crisp bed sheets. Then there is the possibility of room service (we never get it, but KNOWING it's possible is totally awesome) and going out to eat. Hotels are simple amazing!

The place was so fancy- in a swanky, rustic lodge kinda way. I felt a little guilty for being the center of so much attention and money spending. But my husband claims he got a good deal on a "Passion Rekindled" resort package. So, our passion has officially been re-kindled.... four times to be exact...

And then I got to come home to this guy...

And this beautiful, sunny day...


Ok, third time's a charm:

P.S. Ever seen someone wear a swim suit with cowgirl boots?

The only other shoes I had brought were heels so I was stuck wandering the resort wearing a fashion nightmare- you should have seen the wedding guests in the reception room when I tried to steal a piece of cake wearing this, it was priceless!.

Returner's Remorse

On Sunday, I bought a truck. Not just any truck. My absolute dream truck. It was sexy. It was monstrous. It was $15,000 of heated leather seats, back-up sensor, auto-climate control, 4 door pulling machine. But most importantly....

It was love at first sight.

Cupid struck me through the heart the second I saw that beautiful, glorious hunk of steel. I couldn't remember wanting anything as badly as I wanted, no- NEEDED, that truck. I can't help it. I'm a truck girl. Call me crazy. Call me a white-collar, redneck. I didn't care that the gas-mileage sucked. I didn't care that I had nothing to tow or haul. I climbed up, sat in those comfy, leather seats and felt like I belonged.

I returned to the car lot with my husband the next day and basically begged him for the dang thing. He didn't want a truck. He explained that I should save up for a bigger downpayment first. He listed all the things our family would have to forgo or put on hold if we bought the truck. He's the practical one. But I won (as I almost always do). We bought it on the spot. I was the happiest person alive.

Then something happened. Guilt gripped my gut. It tore me up inside. My hefty and impractical expenditure loomed over my head and stabbed me with regret. I felt horrible for putting my own desires above the welfare of my family. Two days later, I returned to the lot and backed out of the purchase. It was probably the hardest thing I had to do since I took the bar exam. I sat in my truck one last time. Slowly saying goodbye to the classy console, the soft steering wheel, the heated leather seats and the sleek, shiny short-bed. A part of me died when I walked away that evening. But I also knew this was the smart, albeit, painful decision. Seriously, who returns a $15,000 truck after two days?

I still think about the truck that could have been. I still imagine myself driving it, decked out in my cowgirl boots and blasting Tim McGraw and Billy Currington, my buns a-toasting on that beautiful leather throne. So I assure myself that, someday, a truck like that will be mine. And when that day comes, I'll drive that machine into the ground. I'll love it to death, until it's nothing but a steel shell wrapped around an engine. But until that day comes, I'll have this image burned into my retinas:

And then I bought a new pair of boots. You know, to make the hurt go away faster.

Strippers And Sanctions

After work yesterday I went to a construction professionals meet and greet. There were mostly other construction defect lawyers in attendance. Laywers on both sides of the plaintiff/defendant fence and they all seemed to know each other. I spent a lot of time listening to other people talk about themselves. It was pretty lame. At events like this, I usually end up thinking that most attorneys are (1) old, (2) sleezy and (3) male. Maybe all the hot young professionals have better things to do on a Friday night.

Halfway through the evening another attorney joined the forray. He was loud and, quite clearly, drunk off his ass. He started talking about limos, strippers and cocaine. Nice. At this point in the evening I was the only woman in the room. Good thing I don't take offense easily, when you work in the legal profession, I don't think you really can. Also good thing I'm used to being "one of the guys."

During the discussion about stripper and cocaine, one of the other attorneys looks at me and says, "Sorry. This conversation is getting out of hand. Isn't it?"

I just looked at him and smiled, "It's ok. It takes a lot to offend me."

Then an attorney from my firm joins and says, "Yeah, take her out to lunch sometime and SHE'LL be the one offending YOU!" I think I turned bright red on the spot. But then I remembered the time I went to lunch with a group of attorneys from my firm. After one beer I was telling them all about the crush I have on my father-in-law and all the reasons why I could never be a stripper. Yeah, good times......

Anyway, the attorney that had just walked in starts introducing himself to someone next to me. His name sounds REALLY familiar. But I can't place it. Then the attorney from my firm says, "Cee, you have to meet this guy." He grabs my hand and takes me over to him and says, "Joe Bob, this is Cee. Cee this is Joe Bob. He's the guy that you got sanctioned."

Oh crap. THAT'S why his name sounds familiar! Remember that Motion to Dismiss that I wrote. The one where I claimed in my reply that they never responded timely when they actually DID? Well, it turns out the Judge granted our motion anyway and decided to sanction the other side a couple thousand dollars. And this was the guy from the other side.

Anyway so the guy at my firm introduces us and then "Joe Bob" just shrugs it off like it's no big deal. He's like, "I'm so filthy rich, I don't care. Maybe I deserved it." Then he continues right on talking about strippers and cocaine.

Gee, lawyers are such decent people.

Then I was bored out of my mind and ate about 53 chocolate covered strawberries.

Please, Step Into My Home Office

This weekend was full of fun and work. On Sunday, I convinced my husband that we should take Jacob into Seattle for the day so that I could pop into the office to pick up some deposition transcripts I was supposed to summarize (and then lost under a stack of obscure case law, discovery requests and old status reports).


Mark this day on your calendar peeps. This is the day Cee came into the office on a weekend! Because of my love-hate relationship with the ferry, I try really hard never to come in on the weekend. Instead, I bring my work home. Unless, of course, it has been eaten by the monstrous stacks of tree guts (paper- duh) on my desk.

I was also supposed to draft a reply to plaintiff's opposition to the motion to dismiss we filed in one of our cases. Except, I couldn't find Plaintiff's opposition. Problem? Yes. I checked my inbox, I checked the other associate's inbox (but his office looked like a file cabinet exploded in there so no luck). I checked the partner's inbox for the opposition as well. Then I scammed another associate into teaching me how to look at the court's docket online. Still no luck. I emailed the partner on the case. He informed me that to his knowledge, plaintiff did not file an opposition.

Seriously? That's like saying to the court "please dismiss my case, oh yeah, and sanction me while you're at it!" This hearing is without oral argument so their opposition was their only opportunity to respond. Well, at least if they didn't oppose, I didn't have to draft a reply right?

WRONG.

Partner: "We'll want to draft a reply anyway. Please have a draft to me by 10am tomorrow since it must be filed by noon."

Great. Lovely. Perfect. Happy weekend to me.

But at least we had a little fun at Pike Place Market on the way home.

Until "we" passed out.

It's Easter: Let The Torment Begin!

Waiting in line for Easter Bunny photos was very disturbing this year. This yearly ritual is 110% for the benefit of the parents. I watched as child after child was ushered toward a full grown man in a full blown rabbit costume complete with oversized feet and granny-like spectacles. Each child's happiness could be measured by his or her proximity to the Easter bunny. The closer each child got, the louder the screams and the wilder the flailing of arms became.

It became very apparent to me. Children HATE the Easter Bunny. Yet, despite this fact, parent after parent pushed, prodded and pleaded, as if sending cattle to the slaughter. I heard some parents bribe their children with candy (one parent literally snatched a sucker out of her child's hand when she refused to sit with the Easter Bunny!). I heard other parents beg their children to do it "for grandma" and plead with them to "show your teeth!" When the children screamed and threw tantrums, the parents would spend 10 minutes playing games with their child- they were desperate, they'd have done anything for one smiling picture perfect moment captured on kodak paper.

This scenario played out with every single family waiting in line with a child over 5 months old. Yet, even after witnessing the torment play out with everyone that came befor them, the parents continued to wait in the ridiculously long line, assuring themselves that their child would be different. It was really REALLY disturbing. And yet, we did the same thing. The things parents do to their children all in the name of tradition, sheesh!

And our child wasn't different. But we didn't care. We like our picture just the way it is. (And there was no way we were going to let Jacob have all the fun).

Too Much Fun, Not Enough Bar Prep

File this under "Pictures I Don't Remember Being Taken"

(broom guitar in the bathroom?)

Last year I took charge and planned Valentine's Day. This year I decided to keep the tradition going. I think it's a great idea for the girl to plan Valentine's Day (unless you have a super romantic spouse/partner/"special" friend). I may be overgeneralizing but I think most girls fantasize about romantic evenings on Heart day and have certain standards for what they expect or want (even if they pretend they don't care). And I think planning a romantic Heart day terrorizes the crap out of most guys who have no idea what to do but don't want to dissapoint. Plus, don't most guys have enough pressure planning the anniversaries?

Either way, I think it's good to split the holidays/events so that you can share equally in the planning responsibilities. I realized that if I always plan Heart Day, I will NEVER be dissapointed! This way (1) I get the Heart Day that I REALLY want and (2) Husband can enjoy it too without all the pressure.

This year I got a plan rolling with my husband's friend's girlfriends and we planned a whole day of fun as a triple date. The day was planned in three stages (1) an underground tour of Seattle (2) a horse carriage ride downtown while covertly drinking wine in plastic glasses (covertly, until the second bottle when we were cheersing everyone within earshot) (3) dinner at the Wild Ginger- an awesome asian inspired restaurant where everything on the menu is to DIE FOR. The guys had no idea. Each new stage was a complete surprise.

We even caught an early enough ferry home so that we could end the evening with a girls v. boys Cranium match. It was a total blast...definatelt the best Heart Day EVER. Until next year ;)