Law vs. Mom

I consider myself incredibly lucky to have been able to eschew full-time employment since the birth of my daughter. Initially, I suffered from the misconception that staying at home day-to-day would leave sufficient time to handle household chores, run this blog, and sneak in a few hours per week of part-time legal work. Even after getting through the first several weeks of nursing every two hours, unpredictable naps, and scarce sleep for me, I was surprised at just how time-consuming life with an infant could be. 

True comfort with my new lifestyle set in after accepting that if caring for the baby was my job, I should treat it like one. In doing so, I realized that there exist numerous similarities between one's existence as a stay-at-home parent and the day-to-day travails of an attorney. 

1. Your life is not your own. Law school meant attending classes and reporting for my internships according to a schedule, but other than those few hours I could get things done - grab some food, read, go to the gym, etc. - in whatever order I wanted. Upon graduating, I knew that my life as a young associate would involve long hours at the office, rushed (or skipped) lunch breaks, and looming deadlines that made me nervous. But I didn't necessarily anticipate how it would feel to lose autonomy over my daily agenda. I often started the day with the intention of working on certain assignments in a certain order, only to have my boss pop in and instruct that I direct my efforts elsewhere for an indefinite amount of time. 

At his or her core, a newborn baby is simply a tiny boss who only communicates by high-pitched wailing, requires assistance performing every single life function, and changes moods on a dime. My little girl's favorite trick during her first three months of life was to fall asleep in my arms, appear down for the count, and wake up while being carried from the couch to her crib. I quickly realized that it was better to stay put and hang onto her until she woke up, my own autonomy (and loads of undone chores) be damned. Some productivity was regained when I started wearing her in a baby carrier, but - not surprisingly - one's ability to accomplish household tasks is somewhat limited when she has a sleeping baby strapped to her chest. (And, of course, now that my baby has turned into a rambunctious pre-toddler, I long for the lazy afternoons on the couch with her asleep across my lap.)

2. Scheduling and time management feel impossible. Not surprisingly, being at a tiny human's beck and call greatly limits one's ability to schedule activities and plan outings in advance. When scheduling gatherings with other moms, all times and agendas are subject to adjustment pending uncertainty of naps and diapers. One particular day late last fall, I was getting myself and my then 2-month-old ready to head out for a meetup that required travel via subway. The mode of transportation meant strapping her to me in a carrier, which at the time was a new adventure for us. Further, the cold weather (as I've previously written about) made it difficult to ensure that she'd be warm when we were walking outside but not too hot once we reached the train station. Lo and behold, as soon as I had our whole system rigged up, my tiny kid began emitting her patented wet-diaper cry. Grumbling, I decommissioned the baby carrier and blankets, unsnapped her onesie and changed her, and reengaged everything. At the time, this felt like an inconvenience of epic proportions; nearly a year later, last-minute departure hurdles are simply a part of life that I plan for by leaving extra time. Oddly enough, the occasions on which we don't have any delays feel more inconvenient, since that can mean arriving at our destination early and killing time with a very antsy little girl.

These issues really aren't that dissimilar from those encountered by practicing attorneys. Prior to law school I worked for a busy firm as a calendar clerk, which meant training to think of scheduled engagements in a new way. A deposition or court date may appear on the calendar in an office, but it's not "on the calendar" until it's confirmed the day prior by all parties involved. Treating all dates as tentative means that litigators operate in state of limbo, unsure as to whether a conference will actually be held or a trial will truly begin; explaining this custom to clients can be especially frustrating. Then there's also the fact that morning rush-hour travel about the New York City area requires leaving extra time for train delays and traffic. Leave early enough to beat the rush and you can wind up sitting in an empty courthouse hallway for an hour - only to then sit through an endless calendar call before your case is heard. Leave a little later and you're the disheveled person rushing up the courthouse steps and praying that you don't miss it. 

3. Nothing is beneath you. Popular culture references like to show us high-powered lawyers wearing expensive business suits whilst sitting in cushy-looking courtrooms and offices. In reality, many courthouses are dated facilities lacking reliable modern amenities; offices are simple suites of bare-bones, functional rooms. Moreover, aside from to sitting around conference tables discussing strategy or standing in a courtroom before a judge, most lawyers (especially new associates) are also tasked with rather unglamorous minutia, e.g., checking citations, calling the court and getting bounced around to five different offices until a question is answered, preparing exhibits and notes for trial. Then there's also the office gruntwork - documents need copying, printers unjamming, files reorganizing. Most firms have support staff available for these tasks, but in a smaller office everyone is expected to pitch in. 

These days, I routinely get poop on my fingers, walk in the rain without an umbrella so I can effectively push a stroller, and roll out of bed in the middle of the night to feed or comfort a crying baby. I've allowed my clothing to be soiled or ruined in any number of ways - from sitting directly on the ground, being spit up on, or stretching out after serving as a handle for baby pull-ups. Part of the beauty of being a parent is the instinct to do anything for one's child, which makes these sacrifices a little easier. Other chores are less glamorous; a recent revelation in the "office" that is our home involves the notion that babyproofing is an ongoing process requiring that certain rooms be swept multiple times per day. And, of course, the child's adventures in eating often necessitate scraping mashed or pureed foods off of a multitude of surfaces. 

4. You deal with frustration beyond that which you thought possible. In both jobs, all of this minutia can be fairly aggravating. Anyone who works in a professional setting is likely to have wrestled with word processing programs' formatting settings, trying to achieve a specific layout or create a table of contents or get page numbers to show up in some sections but not others. At home, I sometimes devote an inordinate amount of time toward getting my seemingly tired child to doze off for a nap, only to have her fight through the initial drowsiness and emerge a little ball of hyperactivity. In both cases, I've learned that the only thing to do is roll with the punches and move on. 

5. You will make mistakes. One workplace lesson it took me some time to learn was that in order to get everything done, some tasks will need to be sub-par. Initially, it deeply frustrated me to see colleagues' memos and e-mails that hadn't been perfectly edited and proofread. Eventually, I realized that meticulous review of intraoffice correspondence takes up time that would be better spent on other substantive work. Further, it's a reality of life that sometimes a letter goes out with an indentation error; a brief is submitted with a page missing; a motion directed towards the wrong judge. Most of the time, errors are reversible, and you do better to correct them swiftly before simply moving on.

In parenting life, too, small mishaps are part of the routine. Diapers leak, formula spills, Cheerios wind up all over the car seat. Frustrating? Yep. Worth dwelling on? Not at all. 

6. You'll do better if you set boundaries. Initially, the idea of my child crying for even five seconds was enough to make me eschew my own needs - hunger, thirst, exhaustion, privacy in the bathroom. Fast forward several months and I wish I'd gotten in the habit of leaving her by herself a little earlier. Sometime during month #2, another mom shared that visits from her parents provided relief in allowing her to go out and have time to herself. My parents (and sister, and in-laws) visited plenty, but my instinct was always to stay nearby, whipping up snacks, doing chores, or visiting with our guests while they oohed and ahhed over the new addition to our family. At the time, being productive around the house seemed a priority, but creating some distance between myself and the domicile would probably have been better for my sanity and sense of self.

Likewise, as a young professional, it's easy to fall into the trap of being a "yes [wo]man". Advancing one's career involves staying at the office late, taking on assignments that stretch one's comfort zone, and participating in the aforementioned office grunt work ...but there needs to be a limit. I worked with a paralegal who was vigilant about leaving work at the same exact time every day. At first, I interpreted this behavior as overtly selfish and hostile to a productive work environment. She explained, though, that earlier in her career she was often the person who volunteered to stay late to finish up a project or make sure that a document was sent out. This devolved into the assumption that she would stay late, and she found herself being taken advantage of. While an outright ban on staying past 5 PM seems extreme, protecting one's freedom and autonomy can be worthwhile. 

7. You need to delegate, outsource, & rely on a support system. I'm guilty of being overly independent, not wanting to bother others to proofread my work or help me collate documents or otherwise assist in work assignments. Initially, this felt like a selfless notion: by taking everything on myself, I was leaving my colleagues free to get other things done. However, after some time I came to realize that this was misguided for two reasons. First off, there's something to the idea that working in teams prevents burnout, thereby decreasing errors. Who hasn't gotten tunnel vision re-reading the same document five times? More importantly, that same person is less likely to catch the misplaced comma or "there" that should read "their". Secondly, offices employ different people for different reasons, and operate most efficiently when those various roles are utilized. If attorneys monopolize every aspect of every assignment, capable paralegals and secretaries will be left with precious little to do. Further, the time that an attorney spends formatting or collating a brief is time not spent meeting with clients, drafting pleadings, or conducting research.

At home, I've also been quick to assume full responsibility for any number of chores or tasks. Seeing my husband struggle through a diaper change used to be cause for me to roll my eyes and shove him out of the way so that I could take over. "If I can do it faster, I might as well do it," I assumed. After a few months, though, I realized the importance of taking advantage of the time my husband is home to do other chores, handle personal matters, and (if I'm lucky) take a few minutes to relax and unwind. The same goes for outside help. After my daughter's birth we were blessed with numerous visitors willing to hold her, sing to her, wave toys in her face, and (in the case of a very special few) change her diapers. A few months down the road, I wish I'd taken advantage of the presence of visitors to do errands on my own or simply step out for some (literal and figurative) fresh air away from home, instead of hanging out to oversee friends and family interacting with our new arrival. 

8. You'll find reward in the small victories. There's nothing like the exhilaration of finding a magical shred of case law that supports a longshot of an argument... except maybe the feeling of accomplishment when the baby and I get out the door in under five minutes. 

9. Outsiders will not understand. As I can attest from my days working in the legal field prior to law school, it can be difficult for non-attorneys to truly conceptualize what it means to devote oneself to a rigorous, competitive three-year education and then move on to immersion in a cutthroat, stressful, and often thankless industry. Similarly, talking to childless friends and family members reveals an obvious dissimilarity in our priorities and levels of stress. In both situations, the outsiders who don't understand the stressors are also deprived of the joys ...which is what I like to remind myself when I can't seem to find the case law I'm looking for, or when my child is fussing over a lost pacifier or crushed Cheerio. 

Screw the pouch?

Since my daughter was born, it’s been an important goal of mine to maintain a frugal, “DIY” household. Accordingly, thus far we’ve purchased no commercially prepared baby food (aside from a few teething biscuits). My daughter is a pro at eating bite-sized pieces of baked root vegetables, fresh or steamed fruits, seared chicken and fish, and slow-cooker turkey meatballs (with chopped spinach mixed in!) - just like her dad and me.

But unlike her parents, and most other humans who’ve been living for longer than one year, she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of utensils yet. At one time, early on in our adventures with solids, she was on the cusp of proficiently eating mushy foods from a spoon. However, she seemed to prefer the hand-held foods, so we caved to this predilection and favored those. This trend gradually rendered pureed and mashed nourishment entirely counterproductive - when presented with yogurt or oatmeal or applesauce on a spoon, her instinct is to grab at the food with her fingers and bring it to her mouth directly. And that’s only if she actually decides the food merits eating; it feels like half the time she’d rather smear her pureed avocado on the tray of her high chair, or fling hummus at the wall. 

Lest she never learn how to use one, we keep experimenting with food on a spoon... when we’re at home. Recently, the nice weather has kept us on the go more often than not, and I shudder at the thought of what might happen if I tried giving her spooned purees somewhere other than our dining room. Moreover, her increased mobility means that sometimes even our tried-and-true finger foods don’t work. Outings to the park or beach involve far too many apple slices dropped on the ground or carrot sticks contaminated (willingly, for some reason I can’t fathom) by sand. Seeking inspiration for snacks that can survive summer stroller walks, will fit in tiny little hands, and are chewable even if the eater only has four teeth, I didn’t know where to turn. Then, on a recent trip to our local mass baby retailer I found myself studying the pouched foods. 

Over the past year, it seemed like every time I saw an older baby or toddler he or she was eating a snack of pureed food product by sucking it directly out of its pouch container. Notwithstanding the knowledge that the eaters involved are tiny people still learning to perform basic functions of life, the act of slurping down almost-liquefied foods always seemed slightly grotesque to me. The fact that the foods involved are commercially prepared didn’t do much to assuage my aversion... especially when I saw a pouch in the store containing “chicken casserole.” Several of the companies who make these pouched snacks purport to include few or no preservatives in their foods, but if they’re offering a product that contains chicken and doesn’t need refrigeration, I’m not sure I believe it. 

Thankfully, I recalled a mom-and-baby meet-up that we attended a few months ago, to which a friend brought a reusable pouch full of homemade puree for her baby. Having resigned myself to the convenience of portable purees, but determined to continue making baby food myself, I returned home from the store and Googled “reusable baby food pouch.”

... and stumbled upon an article which summed up everything I didn’t know I was worried about re: pouched purees. 

While my initial aversion to pouched-eating was rooted in the notion of impoliteness, the parents quoted in the above-linked New York Times piece highlight some deeper, systemic concerns about quick-and-easy to-go foods. Yes, infants with no teeth need, physically, to eat soft foods. But they don’t need to instantaneously suck down 100 calories worth of blended fruits and vegetables (or whatever else people think to mush up) at a moment’s notice, so they can immediately run off to do something else. My knowledge of human developmental phases also indicates that if they’re old enough to run off with minimal supervision they’re also old enough to chew food that hasn’t been blended into liquid form.

I definitely feel the pressure to maintain a busy lifestyle whilst keeping my child fed and happy, but thus far this still entails meals seated in a high chair, eating real food… even if I spend the duration of my daughter’s lunch standing at the counter simultaneously eating, doing dishes, and/or preparing food for that night’s dinner. Hummus on the wall notwithstanding, I’m enjoying the spoils of a fate forecasted a few months ago by a friend with an older baby: “Once they feed themselves, you can get stuff done while they’re eating.”

As with most aspects of parenting, a compromise is within reach. For the immediate future, I like the idea of a pouch of mashed fruit a few times a week when we’re out in the park and seek to avoid a snack that risks futility if dropped on the ground. Another benefit is that a pouch won’t make my daughter’s hands (which will inevitably touch dirt immediately after she finishes eating) sticky. And I can even reconcile keeping a few commercially made pouch snacks in the car as an emergency backup food, in case errands keep us out longer than expected.

But I’m hoping it’ll stop there, and that we can maintain healthy habits of slow and focused eating. In just a few years, she’ll be a get-up-and-go toddler, and will inevitably require a baggie full of crackers or cereal to keep her sated in the car between activities. Several more years down the road, she’ll be a too-busy-to-eat teenager, running out the door to school with a granola bar for breakfast. In the meantime, I’d rather not hasten that eventuality by encouraging the consumption of food as a mindless, multi-tasking activity.

And rest assured that we’ll be staying away from pureed-and-pouched chicken casserole. 

Proof that being "cool" as a kid isn't everything (and can actually be harmful!)

Though a long way from needing to worry about my child's social status, I've already developed strong convictions about how she will be raised. Television viewing will be monitored and kept to a minimum, as will the use of video games and computers and other personal electronic devices. Recreational spending will come out of her allowance, which itself will be awarded only upon the completion of chores and maintenance of overall obedience. I won't force her to participate in any activities she doesn't enjoy, and we won't overdo it, but her time away from school will entail pursuit of constructive extracurricular activities or - when the time comes - useful part-time employment. She'll be expected to regularly attend family gatherings and spend time with her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and not-yet-conceived cousins and siblings. 

As she advances through the pre-teen and teenage years, I look forward to building a relationship in which we can talk to one another honestly and open... but I won't spoil her or bend to her every whimsical demand and desire in order to gain her trust. Nor will I buy her designer clothes or let her stay out unreasonably late or enable irresponsible behavior just so she can be "cool." 

"But Mom!" she'll protest. "Don't you want me to be cool? And have friends?!"

"You can have plenty of friends without wearing a $100 T-shirt," I'll snicker back. "And besides, wouldn't you rather be a successful and responsible 23-year-old than a 'cool' 13-year-old?"

A recent study demonstrates that "cool" teens often grow up to be wayward post-adolescents. I'm not sure we as a society needed any proof that being popular as a young teen doesn't correlate to success later in life, but there it is. 

And is it really that surprising? Being considered "cool" involves securing the reverence and social respect of one's peers. Meanwhile, even the most book-smart, perceptive, well-meaning 13-year-old is still an immature, sheltered, inexperienced idiot. The average human is expected to live past 70, and most of us don't even arrive on the cusp of actual maturation and independent adulthood until at least 22 (following the deferral of anything resembling real responsibility until after college). It follows logically that those individuals first embarking on their teenage years are not the best judges of character and personality. 

My favorite part of the article may be use of the term "pseudomature behavior." I recall from own teenage years that many of my peers couldn't wait to grow up, and sought to somehow hasten the process by defying their parents' requests for help with chores, skipping family gatherings in favor of seeing friends, hanging out with older "cool" kids in an effort to obtain illicit beverages and substances, and shirking age-appropriate evening recreational behaviors in favor of carousing in a parking lot. Ever an old soul, I was fine keeping to myself and a few different circles of friends who pursued less heralded social activities like ice skating, miniature golf, and watching movies in someone's basement. The other stuff just seemed like a meaningless way of pretending to be older. 

Don't get me wrong, I sometimes had that twinge of curiosity about what being popular would entail, and a vague sense of longing for being older and having more autonomy over how I spent my free time. But that's the point - I recognized that actually reaching adulthood would bring these freedoms, and didn't see any purpose in rushing to do them so soon. It's a bit circular how kids who recognize the fleetingness of their own youth are considered "mature" - equipped with the wisdom to take advantage of a time in their lives they can't get back. Reflecting on experiences throughout my twenties, I can confirm that there is plenty of time to make slightly older friends, stay up all night, experience romance, and experiment with alcohol. 

Of course, I won't be telling my daughter about those, lest they make her want to grow up even faster. 

Weather you like it or not...

Since I was a little kid, weather reporting and forecasting always fascinated me. I think it initially had to do with my interest in geography; watching a weather report on TV or looking at one in the newspaper inevitably meant seeing maps and hearing/reading about how each area would be affected by cold fronts and high pressure systems and any resulting storms. Each spring, I'd eagerly view the weekly forecast, growing excited as warmer temperatures crept in. There was nothing more magical than when that first 70-degree day popped up during late May or early June, and convincing my mother that it was warm enough to wear shorts to school. Just the same, each fall I'd welcome the first forecast of snow in November, because it meant the imminent possibility of sledding and building snow forts.

As a teenager and adult, my consultation of the weather report became a mostly practical exercise, although living in a temperate climate with changing seasons often made it a time-consuming one. On the cusp between winter and spring, each day can involve a new combination of numerous articles - shoes (winter boots, rainboots, fashionable sneakers, or comfortable sneakers), inner layers (thin sweater, thick sweater, or sweatshirt), outer layers (raincoat, peacoat, or parka), and accessories (wool scarf, Pashmina scarf, and/or wool hat). It's during this time of year, or the correspondingly confusing time between fall and winter, when my mother used to threaten to move our family to Florida nearly every year.

Since the birth of my daughter several months ago, I've had the same thought several times. Living somewhere perpetually warm certainly beats obsessing over the weekly, daily, and especially the hourly forecast. Sure we spend most of our day inside, but that makes it even more important to determine the optimal interval for a walk in the park or excursion to do errands. And, if we need to venture out at a specific time, I need to know the ideal way to dress and accessorize myself and a tiny human who can't tell me with words if she's too hot or too cold. What if I put her in a full-body snowsuit and she's too hot? Or err on the side of fewer layers and leave her shivering? Her expansive array of layers and accessories often puts mine to shame. Never in my life have I seen so many tiny sweaters, tiny wool hats, tiny cotton hats, tiny wool mittens, tiny cotton mittens, tiny booties, etc., and figuring out which combination to use can be mentally exhausting.

Another wrinkle is whether we'll be venturing out with a stroller, complete with plastic rain-cover if needed, or if I'm better off wearing the baby in a sling or soft-pack carrier. If we're going for a walk and will be outside for an hour, the stroller is the better bet for comfortable transportation.  By contrast, if we're taking a ride on the subway, I'll need to wear her to avoid lugging a stroller up and down stairs or restricting travel to stations with elevators. This challenge involves keeping her warm enough during the short walk, using layers that are easily shed, without taking her out of the carrier, once we take refuge in a heated subway car. (Think big blanket wrapped around the outside of the carrier and tucked inside my coat.) This strategy also applies when going on errands, i.e. ducking in and out of stores and keeping the baby strapped to me the whole time.

An additional challenge with winter bundling is that it's perpetually a sauna in our apartment. This is certainly a blessing when it's 17-degrees outside with 20-mile-per-hour winds. The downside is that as soon as I get the baby all layered up I have roughly 90 seconds to get both of us out the door, lest she become sweaty and irate. Similarly, if she falls asleep during a walk, once we get back inside I'm faced with a dilemma: Do I leave her in her stroller or carrier, unzipping layers as best I can, leaving her sleep undisturbed but opening up the risk of her overheating? Or do I take her out of her transit vessel to fully remover outerwear, but risk waking her up?

In light of the above, I can't help but wonder if our advanced technology - specifically the ability to access the current weather conditions and imminent forecast at a moment's notice - has made things unnecessarily confusing. Plenty of times I'll come up with a loose daily schedule tailored around a forthcoming rainstorm, only to refresh the forecast an hour later and find that the prognosis has changed. On the one hand, it's good to be prepared by keeping abreast of unexpected updates. I'm sure that thirty years ago moms saw a morning-news forecast that didn't call for rain, and got caught without an umbrella in a rainstorm they might have seen if they'd had access to the constantly-updating hourly forecast on Weather.com.  Nonetheless, any adjustments to the midday forecast lead to only small revisions to our daily agenda, as opposed to radical changes. It doesn't really affect our plans or preparation if the chance of rain is decreased from 100% to 70% (I'm going to bring the umbrella and stroller rain-cover anyway), or if the temperature is said to be 33ºF instead of 30ºF (the baby is still going in her snowsuit). I'm inordinately excited for later in the spring, when it'll be warm enough to put my kid in a onesie, pants, and sweatshirt, and call it a day. Then again, I'm sure the warmer weather will also bring its own challenges a la sun protection and how to best transport baby food and formula without being completely weighed down by ice packs.

Does anyone else pay such close attention to the weather? Or are most of you able to look at it once in the morning and move on with your day? Does anyone wish it was a bit simpler? Do you find yourself frustrated when the forecast turns out to be wrong? Or does starting a discussion with readers about weather amount to the ultimate small-talk-with-strangers cliche? Either way, I'd love to hear from you all.

Best,

nylawmom

C-sections, freedom, gender... and how none of it is anyone's business, really.

As a new mom and New York Mets' fan (hold your boos, please), my ear's perked up when I heard Boomer Esiason's suggestion that Daniel Murphy's wife should have scheduled a C-section to better accommodate the team's schedule. I don't want to repeat what's been said in the numerous insightful, well-reasoned articles covering this topic, especially now that the former NFL quarterback has apologized, but I do have a few thoughts to share.

We're fortunate to live in a time and place where numerous life-saving medical procedures are available and performed every day. The important aspect of this issue is that all health-related decisions are a matter to be adjudicated between an individual, his/her family members, and his/her doctor. Some women give birth at home in their bathtubs under the supervision of a midwife with no pharmaceutical assistance; others go in fully expecting to be hooked up to an epidural catheter. Personal preferences and ideals aside, no one way is "better" than another. And I'm willing to bet that there are people (wives of professional athletes included) who have scheduled C-sections or labor inductions for the sake of convenience. Other women not in the public eye may elect to push or delay a C-section or induction so as not to interfere with their partners' work obligations or other commitments. A friend of mine was due to give birth at the end of August. When she remained pregnant on September 8th her doctor scheduled her for an induction the next day... then bumped it to the following day because the labor and delivery ward was full - too many women scheduling their C-section/induced births for the 9th, to avoid delivering on September 11th.

The point, which both Murphy and Esiason espoused in their comments subsequent to the initial discussion, is that the approach to childbirth and decisions about subsequent care are matters of individual choice. As long as someone with medical training approves of and can provide or arrange for any subsequent care, the patient's decision is what governs.

By the way, the same argument can be made for the availability of abortion and the use of stem cells. If these medical interventions violate someone's religious beliefs or personally-held moral ideals, he or she needn't utilize them. But calling for the elimination of the procedures altogether, depriving other people of autonomy in deciding whether or not to pursue those treatments, misapplies the First Amendment's clause protecting the free exercise of religion. In this arena, as in many others, "freedom" means that we get to believe in and practice the principles we choose, but it does not extend so far as to allow the imposition of one group's beliefs on outsiders.

Another angle to the paternity leave issue involves gender itself. Lots of people on Twitter shared the sentiment that, as a man, Esiason was somehow not equipped to make an informed assessment of the situation nor entitled to have an opinion at all because he himself cannot give birth. Nonetheless, I believe that despite being a man, he had every right to formulate an opinion and voice it accordingly... with the understanding that the world would view his opinion with the appropriate grain of salt and react critically. The notion that Esiason's sex makes him ill-equipped to form a reasoned opinion on the subject of birth is insulting to all men, and thereby undermines any attempt at "feminist" argument by being unnecessarily antagonistic toward an entire gender.

What do you all think? Where do we draw the line about who can say what about others' medical procedures? Is this whole ordeal being overblown? Will the Mets ever win a game?! I eagerly await your comments.

Introduction

Oftentimes throughout my life, I’ve found myself straddling two worlds. Always a tomboy growing up, I lacked my friends’ endless interest in performing dance routines and their preference for shopping at the latest trendy store we were all supposed to be obsessed with. When my parents finally acquiesced and allowed me to play ice hockey in a boys’ league, my gender made me an outsider there as well. Similarly, I enjoyed playing my violin since picking up the instrument in elementary school, but when I began attending a performing arts camp, I found that I lacked the passion (i.e. willingness to practice) my fellow orchestra members had for music. A few years later, not wanting to spend my whole life living in New York State, I opted to go to college in Boston. Despite enjoying the city and the college experience very much, I’ve never felt more like a New Yorker than when I lived elsewhere.

This blog represents my latest attempt at reconciling two parts of myself: lawyer and mother. While I’ve been thrilled to take some time off from work to care for my infant daughter, I can’t turn off the part of my brain that craves intellectual stimulation and operates best under discovery schedules and brief submission deadlines. Thankfully, we live in a day and age where balance can be found, and the hope is that running this website (along with doing some flexible part-time work I’ve been fortunate enough to work into my schedule of childrearing) will keep me connected to the legal world while imparting my experiences as a mother.  

In some ways, becoming a parent has only intensified my preexisting interest in policy and regulation. Issues affecting children – education policy, anti-bullying campaigns, toy safety recalls – are now squarely on my radar. However, as any parent of an infant will likely tell you, I also have far less energy in my tank to exercise my vigilant consumer protection reflex. Believe me, I want to research the ergonomic and environmental safety impacts of every single thing we come into contact with, but I also put a priority on practicing daily hygiene, enjoying playtime with my daughter, and having an hour to myself simply to relax at the end of a long day.

Please stay tuned for forthcoming articles. I also set up a Twitter account where I’ll post links to this site as well as comments on current events and such. I hope to hear from readers and engage in spirited dialogue about important issues of the moment.

Thanks,

nylawmom