Family Law

Sorry Mom

2008-08-07T23:23:00.003-04:00

I know I said that I was going to post tonight but then I fell asleep when I was putting Ollie to bed and now my brain is dead...

Woo-Hoo!

2008-05-13T22:48:00.002-04:00

1L year is official over (assuming I passed and don't have to do it again). I finished my last test tonight and now we're packing up for Texas. I'm going to be tired tomorrow. At least we have cruise control and a GPS though so I can sleep while I'm driving.

The Best Cartoon in This Weeks New Yorker

2008-05-07T22:26:00.002-04:00

A Poem, an Essay, and a Picture

2008-04-23T12:50:00.003-04:00

A Poem:

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and from moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

e.e.cummings

A great essay

And a picture (can you see us?)

Happy Day After Earth Day!

Sloppy Joe

2008-04-02T15:18:00.003-04:00

I was about half way through class this morning when I felt something rough on my sleeve. I looked down and it was a giant smear of food. It was gross. And upon further inspection, though the largest, it was certainly not the only splotch. There were bits on my other sleeve and across the front. It looked like I got sneezed upon by a baby who was half way through eating a banana (which is very well what may have happened).

I guess this is what you get when you get dressed at 6:30 am after wrangling half the night with angry baby who will only, finally, go back to sleep lying sideways in your bed where she can periodically kick you in the face.

After class I washed the largest, most offensive splotch off my sleeve in the men's room sink. I love my glamorous life!

I Miss My Babes

2008-03-13T01:10:00.006-04:00

Amy and the kids are visiting my in-laws for a couple weeks which means I have nothing preventing me from studying in the library until 1 am. Lucky me!

Amy sent me some pictures of the kids. This is Emma:

She's got a serious Gene Simmons tongue:

And this is Oliver:

I miss my babies.

Happy Anniversary!

2008-02-28T15:43:00.002-05:00

Amy and I have been married for four years as of today. About five years ago I developed a crush on this girl. We fell in love and then got married. Between us we've been in three school programs. We've had babies and totally fallen for those babies. We've moved back and forth across the country. Been to Hawaii and Aruba and even to Woburn!

Amy taught me to sew and I made her a handbag. I tried to teach her HTML and she was a good sport. We've learned to bicker and then get over it. We've had four or five gray hairs (all Amy's but I'm getting the ear hair).

We've both realized that we are a better match than we ever thought when we were dating. That sleep deprivation makes us cranky. That Macs are more fun than PCs. That it's nice to have a clean house but sometimes it's nicer to watch HGTV.

The great thing is that I still have a crush on that girl.

I love you Amy B. And I promise that in four years I won't still be in school.

The Best Laid Plans

2008-02-28T11:29:00.003-05:00

I decided in order to be a "better" student that I would take on an extra 10 pm to midnight study shift after the kids went to bed. I should have listened to Amy's warnings as I made it about two weeks until I burned out (I hit snooze repeatedly for a solid hour yesterday morning, without a single complaint from Amy--bless her heart) and got sick (the kids had it, my classmates had it, so maybe I was doomed regardless, but adding sleep deprivation to the mix certainly didn't help).

I just can't play fast and loose with sleep the way I used to (let's be honest I lost that ability probably 5 years ago). So here I am back to being sick and tired and triaging my work to get as many of the essentials done as I can and letting the rest go. Which is a fine place to be and maybe I'd feel better about it if I got a bit more respect from my son. As I left to go to school today he said, "Why don't you go to a real school da-da?"

Splurging a Bit...On Legos

2008-02-16T15:13:00.002-05:00

After having to struggle taking Ollie's "sorta Legos" apart for the fifth time last night we decided to splurge a bit and get the real thing. There are two things to note about real Legos. First, they cost more than you would expect and second, they're worth it. There's a surprising satisfaction in putting two blocks together. There's a slight chatter as the pegs align, then they slide smoothly together with just the right tension...beautiful.

Apparently, Legos are made (28,500 per minute) with such precision that only 18 out of a million are defective and todays blocks still connect with the original sets made in 1958.

My mom had been compiling a list of things that are worth spending extra on (she's a recent convert to first class flying). Mom, you can add Legos to your list.

One L

2008-02-12T23:24:00.004-05:00

The classic memoir about law school is Scott Turow's One L, first published in 1977. The basic structure of schooling is the same but the feel is much different (less dramatic) than Turow describes. Before his first exam he describes drinking wine, taking sleeping pills, and taking valium all in an effort to cool his nerves and get to sleep. He finally flails at his mattress before passing out. I did none of those things, though who can't use a good mattress flail every now and then.

I think there are two basic reasons for the difference in drama. First, the professors have lost their hard edge. Rather than humiliate you for missing an answer to a question they will say, "that's one way to interpret it." And the Socratic method is nothing more than a class discussion, except rather than seeking volunteers the teacher will refer to his giant poster board with each of our pictures pasted over our assigned seat (I couldn't make this up) and call on someone at random. Second, to write an entire book about law school you have to be a bit of a dramatic person. Law school is hard work but it is a kind of sustained steady drudgery that doesn't readily produce a great plot.

But in looking over the book recently there was one excerpt that rang true and it was his description of how he felt after his first round of tests. I looked forward to the end of finals but when that time finally arrived I just felt a bit sick and robbed. I worked too hard all semester for it to just end in a flash. Here's how Turow described his feelings:

In the aftermath of exams, I felt bitter and cheated...I felt insulted by them--there's no other way to put it. Finals were regarded with an institutional earnestness which had left my classmates and me believing for months that the tests would offer some consummate evaluation, not simply of how well we'd learned, but--almost mystically--of the depths of our capacity in the law. Exams were something to point to, a proving ground for all the hard and sincere labor. And instead they had been intellectual quick-draw contests, frantic exercises that seemed to place no premium on sustained insight and imagination which I most admired in others, and when they occurred, felt proudest of in myself.

Maybe (probably) he is overstating himself but not by too much.

Butterfly Bandages for My Daughter

2008-02-04T07:27:00.000-05:00

One of my classmates recently sent this link to me. It's pretty sweet (ahh sweet not schweet! sweet).

This One's for You Todd

2008-02-01T23:30:00.000-05:00

I'm just finishing watching the Democratic debates on DVR; I have to say it's quite refreshing. It's nice to see the candidates being cordial and respectful of each other's talents and positions.

It's especially nice after watching the Republican debate and its endless bickering about who can kick out the most immigrants and extend the war in Iraq the longest (and of course Paul's call for a return to the gold standard--it'll get us back to those roaring 20s). Really, how long could they debate the exact wording of Romney's hiding in the weeds quote?

Nothing to Worry About

2008-01-28T20:34:00.000-05:00

The next time Amy critiques my relative lack of concern for out children's safety (relative being the key term--I'm paranoid just not as paranoid as she is) I'll let her read this article.

A few years ago I came out of my home office to find my youngest son, Keegan, who was 2 years old at the time, dancing on a chair. In his hands were an ice pick and a kitchen knife. In his mouth? A lightbulb. The chair? It was on top of our kitchen counter!

Of course maybe she'd let me get away with more if I was Tony Hawk.

How to Dry Foam

2008-01-27T10:09:00.001-05:00

If you ever have sheets of thick foam (such as those inside the padding of Ikea's terribly comfortable Poang chairs) that is soaked don't be deluded into thinking it will air dry, it won't. Even after a day and a half of hanging in the shower you will go to get it and put it on back on the chair and find that it is exactly as wet as when you hung it there. If you find yourself in this situation here is what you should do: 1. Lay a towel on the floor, 2. Place the foam sheet on that towel, 3. Lay a second towel on the foam sheet, 4. Walk on the stack of foam and towel for a while, 5. Roll it up as tightly as you can and press on it a bit more, 6. Repeat with fresh towels as necessary.

You might be wondering how I came to know such a jewel as this. Well it was a bit of a hectic week. My niece Natalie came for a visit. My wife Amy came down with strep throat. School started again blah, blah, blah. Amy was sleeping off her plague and I was trying to get Emma to sleep when I heard a crack. I cringed a bit but my philosophy is if there is no crying it can wait a bit. When I left Emma's room Natalie looked a bit worried when she said, "Oliver did something bad." I went into the kitchen and 2 year old Oliver had muscled open the fridge, breaking the child safety latch in the process (the crack I heard). And there on our chair sat a gallon of milk. The chair was so saturated by this point that milk was leaking through the upholstery onto the floor below.

Oliver just looked at me and said, "I was awfully thirsty da-da." Well then...

A Parent on Parenting Advice

2007-08-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine recently posted on her frustration with finding gum without aspartame. You see she's pregnant and has of course received all kinds of conflicting advice and is now terrified about what her favorite gum is doing to her baby.

I've been in her shoes. It started when my wife first became pregnant and out went the Diet Coke. Then as delivery approached, thanks to this book, I became paranoid that the hospital staff would railroad my wife into lying down on her back which would increase pain leading to an epidural which would slow the delivery leading to an episiotomy and the tongs which would fail resulting in a c-section. The staff turned out to be great and according to my wife so did the epidural (and no c-section).

After delivery I was warned that unless my child was breastfed he would be physically, mentally and emotionally stunted. I learned that my child needs to learn to put himself to sleep and that allowing him to do so will psychologically scar him. And I was told that vaccines and microwaves will give my son autism.

Fortunately by the time our daughter arrived I was able to collect myself and get a little perspective. I let my baby advice books collect dust and eventually gave them to charity (is donated guilt tax deductible?). At this point I'm a little cynical about the whole baby advice industry. So in an ironic move let me give my own parenting advice.

1. Get a good general reference because there are some real medical issues to be aware of. You really should be cautious about what medicines you take when pregnant or breastfeeding. Don't give your baby asprin and no honey before 1 year etc. I like the What to Expect... series.

2. Ignore the rest, or at least 99% of it. Most of it is quite simply just made up. Doing scientific studies is hard, doing them on children is even harder. Most advice givers are not qualified to interpret the studies much less do their own.

3. Most good advice is old school. It's stuff your grandma's grandmother could tell you. Babies like to be cuddled and sung to and rocked.

4. If it sounds new agey it's most likely garbage. This may tick some people off but, with the possible exception of acupuncture, the entire field of alternative medicine has not produced any remedy that has been shown to work in a rigorous way. See this article for example.

5. Testimonials are worthless. These are what always got me, I'd read the amazon reviews of a book and decide that I had just found the key to my child's future. In their series Bullsh_t Penn and Teller had an actor pose as an alternative medicine guru at a mall. He started with a giant fake "magnet" made out of painted rain gutter. He waved it over a woman's arm and she described how she could feel her blood flow back and forth with the "magnet" and afterwards claimed that her sore wrist actualy felt much better. They topped the segment off by giving mall goers a "mucus mask" by literally letting snails crawl on their face and the patients raved about how their wrinkles were reduced. We really want to believe.

6. Follow your instincts. Humans have been raising children for a long time. Most of what you need to know has been programmed into your biology.

7. Things get better. I once read a testimonial on a sleep advice book. The writer talked about how she had been following this program for one year and raved about how her child's sleeping had improved. Amazing! Kids grow up. They learn how to sleep. They learn to feed themselves and entertain themselves. They grow out of behavior problems (and into others).

Feminism for Fathers

2007-08-01T23:52:00.000-04:00

As a father of a girl I am grateful for the work of feminists past. From the suffragettes to the upcoming scholars in the current generation who have helped to assure women of their basic rights and end most of the overt sexism in the workplace. But recent experiences have shown me that misogyny and sexism are all too alive and well today. From the sexual harassment of blogger Kathy Sierra to the Slashdot threads on Mozilla CEO Mitchell Baker that quickly digressed to commentary on her physical appearance and speculation on whether each poster would "do her." From colleagues who praise their wives for being content to "just be a housewife" (I admire those who choose to be a stay-at-home parent but I find the always present use of the term "just" in my colleagues comments to be telling) to statistics such as these.

As a man and a science buff I stayed away from the women's studies department in college. It's a choice that I now think was unwise. In a sexist world it seems best to raise a daughter who is unafraid to call out sexist behavior, who knows that to be called beautiful is not the highest of praise, who can distinguish between her own desires and those imposed by her community--in short a feminist. I'll be the first to admit that I have little more than an elementary understanding of feminist history and critiques. I am unsure of what role I can and should have in promoting feminist values in my children (do I praise my daughter's looks more than my son's? does it matter? will I raise neurotic children by even worrying about such things?). So I am going to issue a call for help. Will someone more expert in these matters than I please write a book called Feminism for Fathers?

Thank you.

A Better Alarm Clock

2007-06-13T12:42:00.000-04:00

Our alarm clock

Our snooze button

Emma gets up most mornings at about 6:45. We can hear her start to grunt and whimper a bit. The trick then, is to get up and put her binky in before she really wakes up (this job usually falls to my wife since she is unfortunate enough to have the crib on her side of the bed). Emma then falls back to sleep for 10 minutes—she’s remarkably consistent in this. Once she stars to coo though, all hope is lost.

After a pause, during which my wife and I are asking “Aren’t you going to get her?”, I get up. Once she sees me coming I hear swish, swish, swish as she moves her legs in excitement and as my vision clears in the dim light I see her smile that says, “I knew you’d come.”

...and Goodnight

2007-06-04T12:39:00.000-04:00

Last night was my night to put Oliver to bed. I laid him down and he patted his mattress and said, “up here,” so I joined him. He made sure I was suitably covered with the blanket and, since he doesn’t want to miss out on anything, made sure everybody else was already asleep. “Natalie is sleeping?” he asked. “Natalie is sleeping,” I responded. “Tiger is sleeping?” “Tiger is sleeping.” “Doggies are sleeping?” “Doggies are sleeping.” “Ice cream is sleeping?” “Ice cream is sleeping.” Once he was satisfied he proceeded to toss and turn until, exasperated, I got up and went to watch TV. Oliver followed.

Saturday Night Live was on, Janet Jackson was hosting. During the musical number Oliver was watching the dancers. My wife told Oliver to go dance. “Noooo,” he said. I joined in, “Go dance Ollie.” He got a bit shy then stepped out and danced. It was 11:30, Janet Jackson was on TV, and my 2 year old was dancing like a 2 year old. It was, of course, gorgeous.

And then Oliver went with mommy to bed.

Hello...

2007-06-04T12:00:00.000-04:00

This blog is my attempt to chronicle my experiences balancing law school and family. Since I won’t start school for another couple months I’ll probably be posting more family and less law for now. But that’s ok, I have a pretty cute family.