Andy & Jessica

“She’s a lot of work, but she’s worth it.”

At 10:21 a.m. on December 4, 2015 Cecilia Abigail Olson was born.  She weighed in at 7 lbs, 7 ounces and was 20 inches long.  After birth, she was quickly transferred to Children’s Hospital with unexpected respiratory issues caused by retained fetal lung fluid. More to come if I ever get the time.

Told we were at an arcade at the Mall of America for a HopeKids event when a client came up and said hi.  I introduced her to Andy and she told Andy how she knew me.  She said that she had recently joined “[insert name of client not to be mentioned].”  Andy looked surprised/impressed and said, “She can have my babies but she can’t tell me who her clients are.”

It’s been a long road (13 years if you count in my 11 years at Dorsey), but I finally managed to climb all the way from associate of Dorsey to contract partner of Oppenheimer to equity partner of Oppenheimer the other day. I have endless old and recent examples of crazy stories of things I’ve done to ensure excellent client service from working next to Jude’s hospital bed in the middle of the night within hours after his brain cancer diagnosis, while wiping away tears, to sleeping on my phone while waiting for a middle of the night call from an overseas client.  It’s great to see that my hard work has been recognized and appreciated.

“I never keep track of what day it is.  I don’t even know what year it is.”

“One time today I accidentally forgot to wipe my butt.”

Today the boys found my old sketchbook from High School. Levi found inspiration in it.

Jude: “Mom!  Asher threw up and then he thought it looked gross so he spit on it.  Now he’s standing on it so no one sees it.”

Me: “Okay. Let me go deal with this throw up, spit on it, stand on it situation.”

“You’re the best mom ever.  Also the prettiest.  Cuz have you ever seen a mom prettier than you?”  (Ahhhh!  What a sweetie!)

So, a downside to the fancy glass front door that Andy installed recently became apparent last night. I was strolling down the stairs that face the front door in my skin tight black maternity leggings, with cozy, oversized zebra-patterned maternity shirt (an ensemble not fit for public view) when I stopped dead in my tracks, screamed and retreated to the upstairs. There was what appeared to be a man standing outside my front door who hadn’t apparently noticed the “no soliciting” sign and who also hadn’t announced his presence through a door bell ring or a knock. The boys were naturally running around in their underpants and I had to tell them to get some pants on and get away from the front door. In spite of my scream, the man-like figure kept standing there, silent, not knocking or ringing. My boys were excitedly reporting back that the man was actually a boy scout with some wreaths. I tried to talk Andy into dealing with it. After all, I wasn’t dressed for answering the door, had thoroughly embarrassed myself and live by the motto that nothing good comes from answering the door. Andy was firmly standing behind his “no soliciting” sign and refused to answer. Finally, Jude cracked open the window and told the boy scout that his parents were too scared to answer the door. At that point, I’d say I was too embarrassed. The boy scout loaded up some marketing materials in our mail box and finally left. Now I can only hope that I don’t know that kid or his parents.