Never Say Never

While I was pregnant, I was adamant about two things: (1) no pacifier after 12 months and (2) no cosleeping. The pacifier thing turned out to be a non-issue, the Beast was pretty much over it at 10 months (he's now 11 months). But I was dead set against cosleeping. I thought that parents should have their own space, that no one could sleep well when sharing a bed, that parents needed a chance to um, you know, do the things that got them in this situation in the first place. Also, I had fear of rolling over the baby and flattening him out like a pancake. I just could not wrap my head around why anyone would want to cosleep.

Everything started out so well. The Beast slept peacefully in his bassinet right next to my bed.



The Beast at about a week or two old.


At 6 weeks, he was sleeping through the night and in his own crib. What a perfect little baby! What a good mom I was! I didn't even have to sleep train, everything was so perfect!




Six weeks old and sleeping in his own crib!

And then he turned 6 months. And he started teething. And he got sick (with a cold). And he was miserable. And he wouldn't sleep so I wasn't sleeping. And we were all miserable.

One night, in an act of pure desperation, after many attempts to get him to go back to sleep in his crib, I plopped him down in my bed. He looked up at me, snuggled into my 400 thread count sheets, fell fast asleep, and slept through the night. I laid down next to him and actually got to sleep. It was a relief. It was glorious. It was how I became a cosleeper


Six months old and taking up residence in my bed.

Once I realized how easy it was to get him to go back to sleep if I just put him in the bed with me, there was no going back. I work full time and I need sleep in order to function and somehow adequately perform my job. So after the Beast turned 6 months, whenever he gets up in the middle of the night, I just pull him in bed with me and we both get to sleep. Then I learned how to nurse him while laying down in bed. Even better! Even less effort was required. I could bring him into the bed, nurse him, and get more sleep.

We don't cosleep every night. He starts off every night in his crib and if he wakes up then I bring him into my bed. I suppose you could say that I cosleep on demand. I have to admit, on nights that he doesn't wake up, I sort of miss having that little warm body snuggled up against me. He is now 11 months and I have no intention of ending the cosleeping. Lately he has been staying asleep in his crib until about 5 am. When he wakes up at this time, I am definitely ok with cosleeping because it means I get another hour of sleep. He is sturdy enough now that I don't worry about rolling over on him. And it is pretty funny to watch him wake up my husband by happily pouncing on him. Pretty soon he is going to be a big boy and have no interest in sharing a bed with me and the husband (Right? Kids don't cosleep until they are teenagers, right?)

The moral of the story is never say never about any parenting techniques while you are pregnant. You just have no idea the things you are willing to do when you are stressed out and sleep deprived.

I Wish I Had Known....

I always planned on breastfeeding. When I got pregnant I knew it was what I wanted to do. I knew that I would be pumping at work. I knew that I didn't think formula was bad but I wanted to breastfeed my son. There are a million things I wish I had known before starting breastfeeding. That it would hurt in the beginning. That it would be stressful, not naturally easy, and totally rewarding.

What I really wish I had known was that it is not hard to nurse in public. I was so afraid to do it that I did not nurse my son in public until he was about five months old. I was so nervous about accidentally exposing myself or grossing someone out. I have no idea why, I spent four years in Santa Barbara with the girls on display for all to see. But the thought of someone actually seeing me nursing sent me running for the hills.

I had a hooter hider, I just was afraid to use it. I even practiced using it in front of my sister. The problem is I have giant boobs and I can't just discreetly pop open the nursing bra and feed my son. No, the entire boob has to come out and that is slightly off-putting for others.

For the first five months, I planned outings so that I wouldn't have to nurse or I brought a bottle. It was a huge pain in the ass. Then we went to Sea World and we were going to be gone for a long part of the day. By this time I had been back at work for 3 months and was beyond sick of washing bottles. So I decided I wasn't screwing around with bottles and packed the hooter hider. When it came time to feed him, I found a chair with arms (for support), slipped the cover on, and nursed away.

It was so easy! He was happy to eat, I was happy that there was no bottle to clean up. I couldn't believe I had waited so long to nurse in public. From that point on, I nursed him in restaurants, museums, even a bar (we were there during the day and its not like my boobs are strangers to bars).



Nursing in public turned out to be comfortable and easy. Now, I will say that at 10 1/2 months, nursing in public is somewhat of a struggle simply because the baby gets distracted. Also, I tend to nurse in public less because if we are at a restaurant he usually eats food. But I still enjoy having the confidence to run out of the house without a bottle, just my trusty hooter hider, knowing that I can feed my son on the run.

A Realization

When I was a little baby attorney at one of my first jobs my boss told me that I needed to be more of a bulldog.

I needed to be tougher, more aggressive.


(Like Frank could ever be aggressive, he is such gentle soul.)

But I just wasn't aggressive. I was more passive aggressive. In my early 20s I was at a dance club, getting down with my bad self, and this really annoying drunk girl kept bumping into everyone on the dance floor. So I steathily bumped aka body-checked her and ran away. I had aggressive tendencies but I was just so damn non-confrontational.

Despite my lack of overt aggression, I became a mildly successful attorney. I was able to settle cases but it would take me forever. I would constantly second guess myself. In trial, I would turn red with embarrasment when I had to question witnesses.

And then something happened.

This little guy showed up.



And in a sleep deprived haze I becaming a working mama attorney. And I stopped having time to deal with bullshit. And I stopped tolerating the games that lawyers play. And I became aggressive.

I no longer sit through countless hours of mediation. If the deal is bad, I walk. I'm not afraid to call out other attorneys when they are being unethical or treating my client poorly. I am more sure of my arguments and unwilling to waver from my positions. While I love my job, I want to get through the day as quickly and efficiently as possible so I can get home to my son. I don't have time or the desire to bullshit about cases. I cut to the chase and get the job done. And I'm not afraid to go to the mattresses for a legal argument I believe in.

Plus, I don't have time for long, rambling meetings. I need to pump!

Somehow in becoming a mother I became a better attorney. In realizing that I am capable of taking care of another life, I realized that I am so capable of being an attorney. In being constantly strapped for time, I have become a faster thinker, a faster talker, and a faster problem-solver. All while maintaining the necessary accuracy.

Motherhood has brought many things to my life. And I am very happy that it has brought a no bullshit policy to me.

I Want, I Want, I Want

I want to spend quality time with my son every day. Lots of it.

I want a rewarding career that leaves me fulfilled at the end of the day.

I want a clean house. I don't want to be the one to clean it.

I want to feel rested and confident.

I want to provide my family with home-cooked meals that are healthy and made with love.

I want to write.

I want my decisions validated.

I want to laugh.

I want to eat chocolate chip cookies with no consequences.

I want to surround myself with people who love and respect me.

I want to love and respect the people in my life.

I want my husband to always be in my corner.

I want my son to know that girls can be really kick ass lawyers.

I want to be a really kick ass lawyer.

I want to teach something to someone someday.

I want to read as many classics as I can get my hands on.

I want to watch my son grow up into an amazing man.

I want a big family.

I want my bulldogs to know how much I love them.

I want to dance.

I want my hair to look cute.

Looks like I've got my work cut out for me.

A Ridiculously Long Video

This is a horribly long video that I'm simply posting for my sister. Although my kid and dog are pretty cute.

Addicted

Hello. My name is Cortney and I'm addicted to social media.
(For those who know me in real life, I am aware that I'm spelling my name wrong. I feel by omitting the "u" it makes me less searchable and therefore, more anonymous. Not that anyone is really looking for me.)

Back to my addiction. It started with AOL Instant Messenger. My family didn't have the internet while I was in high school. We had a computer, but no internet. Um, how old am I that I didn't have internet in high school? Anyways, when I went away to college I had the ethernet in my dorm and my parents signed up for AOL. All of a sudden I had access to the internet and instant messenger. Right away, I fell in love. I was able to have conversations with all my high school friends and I so desperately missed them during my freshman year. It was just so amazing. Email still seemed so foreign to me and I love the "real-time" aspect of the IM. I happily IMed all through college.

Then I went to law school and was introduced to myspace. Be still my gossipy little heart. I could look at friend's pictures, read their "about me," and see what they wrote on each other's pages? I rocked my myspace. I had a cute background that was so "me." I changed my song to match my mood. I had a ton of friends. I posted cute pictures on my friend's pages. I wasted many a law school class happily playing on myspace.

Then I became a lawyer and myspace seemed a little young. Now I was posting my honeymoon pictures on my facebook and not even checking my myspace page. Facebook allowed me to reconnect with some great friends and to keep in touch with family that lived out of state.

A couple years after that, I started blogging and reading other people's blogs. It felt liberating to write again, even it was only inane dribble that only my family read.

And then I met twitter. At first I was a little afraid of it. I didn't quite understand it. I got the "wall" and "status update" with facebook. I didn't understand why I also needed twitter. But I signed up and sent out a couple of tweets and promptly forgot about it.

And then I became a working mother and OH MY GAWD do I love my twitter! I'm obsessed with it. I follow many working moms that I have found through their blogs. I also follow Perez Hilton and Anderson Cooper because I like to stay informed (I figure if Perez and/or Anderson are not talking about it then I don't need to know about it).

My love for the twitter really comes from the working moms that I follow. I don't belong to any working moms groups. I don't need to meet with other working moms on the weekend when I'm with my family and can actually forget the stresses of being a working mom. I need the support of other working moms on Wednesdays, when work sucks, it is still the middle of the week, I have baby snot smeared on the shoulder of my suit, I get a call from daycare telling me that my son has pinkeye, and I have to file a motion by 5pm. That is when I need to know that there are other working moms out there, struggling with the same issues as me. And that is why I love twitter. Because I see what other working moms post. I hear about their good days and their bad ones. With a quick glance at my blackberry, I can feel validated that it is ok to work and be a mother. That I am not the only mother who put their child in daycare and that working mothers can thrive despite the difficulty of it all. Twitter brings a sense of community right to my office when I need it the most.

While I may not know the people I follow in real life, it is so comforting to know that I am not the only one trying to balance everything. So I check my twitter frequently. Hell, I check my facebook frequently too. I deleted the myspace a while ago. That went the way of low-rise sparkle jeans. Fun while it lasted but it was time to move on. I love the connection with friends and family that facebook brings and I love the connection with other working moms that twitter brings. I'm totally addicted to my social media and I'm ok with that.