Circa 2018

It's been almost a year since the last post. Apologies.

1. February 2018, Heather was 9-10 weeks pregnant and the NP couldn't detect the heartbeat. Heather asked for an ultrasound and asked the tech the now infamous question, "Can you tell me there's only one in there?" (I had joked it was twins since late December 2017 simply to annoy her). "I can't, because there are two", was the response that had me laughing out of my seat. Lesson learned. Don't joke about twins.
2. April 2018, the gender reveal where Team Girl Waterman gained two more members. In a hilarious twist, I initially thought it was a boy and a girl when the confetti popped out, only to have Heather tell me it was two girls. Thank God I continued to smile for the video (two more weddings??!!).
3. April 2018, the twins' weight was low, prompting weekly visits to maternal fetal medicine specialists, including 30-45 minute scans every visit.
4. May 2018, realizing the SUV you bought your wife in January doesn't fit a double stroller with the third row up. Trade the Highlander for a Sequoia because minivans aren't your wife's thing. *Pro tip, make sure it's not twins before buying a vehicle when expecting. Sequoias are awesome, are gas hogs and fit double strollers.
5. Summer 2018, putting together two of everything becomes a sport. How much faster you can do the second one compared to the first?
6. August 2018, the twins are here. Weight is good. Only issue was that one of them needed some oxygen for a few hours. The fear of having to tattoo "A" and "B" on their feet is assuaged when you can tell them apart right away.
7. August 2018, God bless every nurse and doctor, especially Dr. Brent Boles, at St. Thomas Rutherford. My wife emptied the L&D supply of banana popsicles. *Pro-tip, Walmart has the best price on Purity popsicles for when you leave the hospital and your wife still wants them. The night nurses got the twins on the same feeding and sleeping schedule their first night in the nursery. To this day (10 months later), they're still in sync.

Twins are hard work. Water is wet. If anything, time has become more precious. I've learned to maximize the hours in the day. I still run in the morning, just at 5:30 instead of 6.

I can't remember what happened from September-December due to lack of sleep. Apologies.

Timing

I can have the right information/plan and convey/execute it incorrectly.

 I spent my 20s in shotgun response mode.

I’ve learned in my 30s to pause and think, not to purposefully delay, but rather to gain perspective and then act.

Cranes

"$40-50 an hour, not a bad gig if you can get trained". 

While I can't confirm crane operator wages, my client seemed to know it rather quickly as we watched the crane working while we were fifteen stories up. 

Mediation sounds like a fancy legal meeting, but it's literally hours of waiting for something to happen. You find random subjects to discuss with clients because silence is more awkward. So here we are discussing cranes. 

My phone, Spotify and headphones. Could I bring those on the crane? If so, it sounded like a good career path to escape the gauntlet of client expectations, deadlines and the rat race of settling or litigation the next case. 

We hit some snags in mediation. I'm tied up for the next hour with phone calls, crunching numbers and discussing legal options. The finer details distract me for the time being. The case settles.

I return to the office, where two hours of being gone has resulted in six more hours of work piling up. 

Does that happen to crane operators? Asking for a friend.

Perjury and horses

I left my phone in my office and was now regretting it. I developed a bad habit of phone surfing during "unimportant parts" of depositions. But this deposition was going terrible and I needed some form of escape.

Contradictions, half answers, exaggerations. Despite the oath my client took at the onset, it was merely lip service as they espoused the most equine excrement-laden account of the incident I'd heard to date.

Zealous representation is what is required of me. Falsifying and exaggerating is not.

That loud explosion was my client's credibility being torpedoed. No amount of annoying objections I could muster would prevent the truth from coming to light. And isn't that what depositions are for anyway?

This case needed to be settled yesterday. I'd be lucky if the current offer wasn't retracted by the time the defense attorney got back to his office.

I strained over how to call out my client 's dishonesty without getting a Board of Professional Responsibility complaint in retaliation.

The defense attorney called out my client several times, successfully. Maybe that laid a foundation that I could build on to get this case settled and move on to more reputable clients? The ones you pictured in law school helping.

After the deposition, I sat down nervously. A few minutes of honest talk. My client conceded, understanding the case needed to be settled right now. Suddenly the mountain of my client's resistance in "holding out for more money" was reduced to rubble when the threat of the current cash being taken off the table became a likely reality.

Serve your clients well, the good and bad. Settle the bad ones if you can, quickly.

My kids and politics

In the car, at random, my six year-old began talking to me about her last day of school, during which a teacher decided to veer course and discuss politics.

"Ernie is nice and will help people, but Donald Trump is mean and yells and wants to take everything away", says my six year-old. I wondered how many delegates a beloved Sesame Street icon could gather.

I could have called the school, ranting about injecting politics into a setting where the audience can't vote for at least a decade. But I'm sure the school staff was drinking copious amounts of alcohol in celebration from not having to see my kid for at least two months.

What's more important than who my children vote for is how they arrive at the decision of the "who". Are they picking someone because someone else told them or because they have independently researched the candidate and find their collective worldview in line with their beliefs?

That's the message I stressed to my child. Yes, Donald Trump yells and has crazy hair. Ernie is in fact Bernie and he does want to help people. Adults disagree, like children, ironically, about whether Donald or Ernie are right.

I can't expect the same six-year old who secretly takes scissors at school to her hair because she "got tired of her bangs in her face" to never question the reasoning behind her decision-making process handed down to her.

My kids aren't minions whom I inject political vitriol into.

My Wife, the Giver

My wife and I decided to enjoy Christmas Eve morning at Cracker Barrel with our two girls.

While waiting for our order to arrive, my wife looked at me and said, "God is telling me to pay for  their meal". "Their" being a single father with his young daughter. He hadn't ordered much. My wife saw a single dad trying to enjoy Christmas Eve with his daughter.

I'm ashamed to admit, my first thought was "No". It will be embarrassing. I just wanted a nice breakfast with my family, now you want to pay someone else? What if he takes it the wrong way? We just spent our entire Christmas budget, now you want to spend more?

While I wallowed in selfish what-if thoughts, my wife kept looking at me.

Sensing my endless internal questioning, she simply looked at me and said "I'm not doing it unless you agree".

Several minutes later, I copped out. "It's whatever you want to do".

My wife called our server over, asked him to put their ticket on ours, and asked to remain anonymous.

Upon hearing the news that his meal was taken care of, the man instantly looked around the dining room, trying to spot who just paid for him. We had the benefit of being cloaked in the craziness that follows having a 6 and 1 year old.

He continued to look around. "I wish I knew who they were. I guess you're getting a big tip", he told the server.

After their meal, the dad continued looking around the room on his way out, hoping to catch whoever paid.

My wife had no hesitation wanting to give. She saw a need and an opportunity and instantly seized it. I stood back hemming and hawing. For those that know my wife, that is her heart. She sees a need and jumps on it.

Thank God for her example. Otherwise I'd still be scratching my stupid head pontificating whether I should open my hand to give.

To Serve

I took on a new client. At first I didn't want the case. But as she laid out the facts (which turned out to be correct after some digging) I offered to represent her pro bono. She burst into tears and it was a touching moment. But giving myself a pat on the back isn't the point.

I encountered an egregious injustice that reminded me why I went to school for my profession: to make things right.

Whenever it becomes just another client, patient, sale, whatever, remind yourself why you entered your profession, to serve. Chasing the money is a bottomless pit. If you've lost the ability to be a servant, it's time to evaluate if it's you or your environment that needs to change.