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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
