Contentment

Saying no, something I don't do well to begin with, becomes harder when confronted with faces I love covered with layers of tears. How is it that such a short, simple word can cause so much angst, frustration and sadness?

I know. Someday they'll thank me for this lesson: actions have consequences. That's an important lesson, no?

Actions do have consequences, even for a parent and seeing those tears and holding fast to what I think is right despite those tears and histrionics make me-- well, I'll be honest-- some days I question whether I am cut out for this job. Today I remind myself to take comfort that God saw fit to give me these particular kids; this unique blend of personalities. I have to remind myself that someway, somehow, I alone am qualified to mother these particular individuals struggling to assert themselves.

I held fast today; I stuck to my guns. I should feel better. Victorious, even. But that's the thing I am slowly (too slowly!) realizing about being a parent; the kids' sadness is my sadness. Their misery and disappointment is my misery and disappointment. Today I hold fast to the idea that their contentment as responsible, successful adults will be my contentment as well.

More Interrupted Thoughts

I could, should I choose to, make a very expansive list about all the reasons I adore my children and how I'm thankful to have them home with me all day. And maybe some day I will do that. But not today.

No, today I am going to describe my number one pet peeve about having bodies-- busy, loud, talkative bodies-- around all the time to see how many others can relate.

My number one pet peeve is being interrupted, and not when I'm having a conversation, though I think that's annoying too, but being interrupted when I am thinking is what drives me the most crazy. It might be that I am writing something as inconsequential as an email, but even so, I want to think about what I am writing. I want things to be spelled correctly. I want to make sure I have conveyed all the information I want to convey and when someone is interrupting me every other second I can't do that.

It's reached a fever pitch lately with all of us being stuck indoors more than we would like. I try, as successfully as I can, to partition off my day. When we are doing schoolwork, that's all I do; the kids get 100% of my attention. But I do like some time to myself every day. Time to think and relax and do something that I am interested in. Usually that thing is blogging. Why do I blog? Because I enjoy the challenge of looking at the expanse of white and trying to fill it, even when I don't particularly want to. This is my thing that I do and the kids aren't involved. Yes, it might be about them, but it is not theirs. Blogging is my thing I do most days that challenges me to think and create something that doesn't get destroyed like food or a clean house or clean laundry.

Mom, can I go over to so-and-so's house? Mom, I'm going outside! Mom, can you help me tape this picture? Mom, can you tie this? Mom, Mom, MOM!

One of these days the children will understand that it takes peace and calm to connect one thought to the next. And they will realize that the unimportant task of creating another post in the vast ocean of the blogosphere matters to me and they will let me at it.

But, for now, those interrupted thoughts is the single greatest annoyance I have on a daily basis. Am I alone?

Vocation

The other day I told Joe I sometimes envied his descriptions of early morning coffee in his office with co-workers discussing theology, politics and the law. I lamented that I filled my head with useless bits of information like which kids don't like cheese on their ham sandwiches and how much milk to pour at mealtime because one child or another never drinks more than half a glass. I grumbled that those were the bits of information filling my head instead of big, important things like legal arguments heard at the state supreme court level that could change the landscape of Wisconsin law.

There was a time in my life, not so very long ago, that I got up in the morning, got dressed in clothes that weren't covered in spit-up stains nor did they have elastic waistbands (don't judge; sweatpants are very appealing some mornings). I went into an office, talked to other adults and worked on things pertaining to what is still today one of my favorite topics to think and talk about: politics. I did that happily for a time. It was invigorating and exciting and it kept me on my toes mentally.

And Joe didn't even think twice about how to respond to my whining. "But Cate," he said, "that's the information you need to have to be good at your job."

And he's right. And in that moment I remembered every moment I worked all those years ago that I didn't want to after I had Madeleine. I remembered every morning that I dropped Madeleine off somewhere and missing her. Every evening that I arrived home with a tired, crabby baby and yet still had dinner to cook and laundry to wash and a house to clean flashed through my head as if it were yesterday. No, I have never seriously questioned my vocation; I'm doing what I want to be doing.

So, during this season of my life I will fill my head with the details that will make me better at my job. I will still whine, occasionally, about people I meet who seem to think I have nothing else to talk about. If someone assumes I am incapable of talking about things other than my daily life than that's their fault for not probing, not mine; I'm quite conversant in any number of subjects.

But still, as this morning's coffee was coupled with a yelling nine-year-old and a crying baby, I still wish that-- just sometimes--I could sit in Joe's office for one, quiet cup of coffee.

Flashback: March 14, 2001

Joe is first year law student. He has successfully completed one semester of his graduate degree and is settling into his academic routine. The student chapter of the Federalist Society, to which Joe belongs, secures Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia to come and speak at the University of Wisconsin, where Joe is enrolled. Federalist Society members also have the opportunity to dine with Justice Scalia the evening prior to his speech. Spouses (and perhaps dates?) were allowed to tag along, which I did. I remember the intimate dinner well and enjoying the company of a man I had previously known only a little of.

I don't know if we ever appreciate the great moments in life enough when we have them, but looking back, the enormity of dining with a justice of the Supreme Court of the United States with only twenty or thirty people present occurs to me. I am thankful I remember the low lights of Restaurant Magnus, the din of casual conversation and my position in the room in relation to Justice Scalia as well as I do.

Joe did appreciate the moment at the time and, as an aspiring lawyer, made sure to get his photo taken with the man.


Why in the world on an unexceptional, cold February day seven years later am I thinking of this moment? Joe has been pleading for months for me to get this picture of him, along with the menu Justice Scalia autographed, framed for his office. I have tried ignoring, mumbling and outright denial for long enough; my hand was finally called and I had to confess to Joe that I could not remember where the picture was.

Oh, sure, I knew it was somewhere. Even though I couldn't locate it, it wasn't lost.

And now, just today, I scoured CDs and external hard drives and voilà! Success! See, I knew it wasn't lost.

Superdad, Super Lawyer

Kudos to Superdad, one of Super Lawyer's newly crowned "Rising Stars" .

Apparently the Super Lawyer list is the definitive list, compiled in part by other attorneys, of who's who in the legal community.

Superdad found out a few months ago that he'd been named to this list but it wasn't officially announced until recently.

Here he is in all his glory. His name was also featured on the complete Super Lawyer list, which was published in the December issue of Milwaukee Magazine.

Way to go, Superdad!