Now I need intercontinental ninja thugs to complete a mission on the mainland. Not a happy week at work. I feel like smiting something. Hard.

Hard to believe Big Z is seven months old today.



Yesterday, I needed to buy Zoë a dress for her holiday portrait (which we're going to do today... wish us luck...). So I was planning on going to the mall. Before I went, our friend Yo called, so Brian, Big Z, and I all met Yo at Macaroni Grill.



We ate some yummy food and hung out. Zoë is a little squirmer these days at the table. She's too small for a booster seat, so we parked her in her stroller by the table. She was content for about two minutes. After that, the three of us took turns passing her around.

Yo taught Big Z how to color.



Zoë actually seemed fascinated by how color came out of the crayons when they moved. Maybe now Brian won't hide the crayons when we go there to eat. (He's always annoyed by how the servers write their names on the table. So he hides the crayons before the servers get there. It's futile, though, because half the time, the servers look around in desparation until they find crayons at another table, and then they grab those and write their name anyway.)

After we ate lunch, Big Z and her father wandered off to Sears to look at the power tools. Brian pushed her up and down the aisles, and she fell asleep in her stroller. Apparently all the men in the power tool section of Sears would look at Zoë, then look at Brian and say, "Starting him early, eh?" Brian thought it was weird that Big Z would be mistaken for a boy, since she was wearing a shirt with pink and purple sequins.

Yo and I headed off to Macy's to look for baby dresses for Zoë's big photo shoot today. While we were there, I saw what Big Z wants for Christmas.



I don't know where we would put it. Maybe hang it from the ceiling.

Yo, on the other hand, is holding out for a Gucci diaper bag.



Man, that would buy a lot of $2 hot pink baby jeans at Target.

So Judge Alm was giving some kind of presentation in his courtroom on Thursday. And the presentation took an hour and a half. We lawyers were waiting out in the hall. We just wanted to enter the courtroom and finish our stuff so we could go back to our offices. By the time the room opened up, we all were cranky. Judge Alm's clerk gave us Halloween pretzels to placate us. The pretzels made up for the wait somewhat.

Here's my batpretzel:

They don't make one dollar rope toys like they used to. There was a time when the rope toys from Target would last Hulu a week or so. Now, after a day, they unravel. Maybe Hulu has increased his entropy output. You would think that would be impossie with him. But maybe he's become more organized about it.

Big Z loves her oatmeal. And she loves her applesauce. Combined, they are irresistible.

Poor Brian can't keep up with the mighty appetite of the Isabezilla.





If the dogs are wandering around the room while Zoë is eating dinner, she'll follow them with her head, but keep her mouth open like that.

In other baby news, Brian's latest negligent parenting plan is to tell Big Z that the "flasher" button on the car makes the car self-destruct. He figures the self-destruct story will be good for stopping Zoë from pushing all sorts of buttons. Someone call CPS.

Ah, more ninja thugs, please. I'm expecting a defense continuance in a case with lots of witnesses. As usual, I'm ready, and I don't particularly want to re-subpoena all my witnesses and put them through the hassle of being on call again. Sigh. But Judge Kim will grant the continuance. It's reasonable, given that defense counsel just received discovery today. But still.

In other new, a friend of mine was dealt a harsh blow yesterday. God, I feel bad for her. She doesn't deserve this. But sometimes bad things happen to good people.

Baby clothes on sale are worse than meth. Anyone who has ever been a mother will understand the irresistible allure of $2 hot pink jeans from Target. All I needed from there today was a rope toy for Huluhulu, some smaller size pants for myself, and a carton of formula for Big Z. But the formula is located behind the baby clothes. Because Target is evil that way.

Brian was listening to AM radio in the car today.  They had a program on about the ghosts of cats.  Brian thought it was funny.  Then when he told me about it, I told him that Charlie haunts my parents' house.

It's true.  You can feel his spirit roaming around the property.  When you open the back door, you can feel him run out and go chase the birds.  And at night, you can feel him wanting to be let in. 

So I take cat ghost stories seriously.  Brian, not so much.  I am looking forward to my parents visiting, so that they can back me up on this assertion. 

Ugh, today was a wretched and long day.  It started with some witnesses for one of my cases failing to show for an interview.  Most of them don't speak English, and they take the bus, so I'm left wondering whether they became lost and confused or are now uncooperative.

Then Laura's jury hung.  So our office will have to re-try the case.  It's not my responsibility, but I feel bad for the victims and for Laura, who was hoping to put this case to rest.

And then the victim for another case never returned the calls from our office.  So it was not a happy morning.

Things brightened up at the end of the afternoon.  That last victim called me, I have almost all the witnesses rounded up for the retrial for Laura, and Zoë was in a good mood when we got home.  But I could really use a cadre of ninja thugs to help me out at work on days like this.

It's funny how I look forward to baby shopping.  Yo, Keith, and I went to Babies R Us on Sunday.  Big Z was a little fussy, or I would have stayed all afternoon.  Regardless, we had a good time.  Zoë ended up with a sweet haul.  Yo thought it was funny how Big Z was clothes shopping like her aunty and her mother.



The Bob is loaded down with baby clothes.  Plus there were toys and bottles in the bottom carrier.  Ah, shopping. 

Brian stayed home.  I told Keith he was very, very brave. 

Unfortunately, Zoë was not able to cheer the Pack on to victory.  I swear, seeing a purple number four is like seeing a flying saucer zapping the White House in Independence Day.  There's a wrongness on the gut level.  Apparently the current Packers onesie is not sufficient.  Big Z outgrew the original jersey-style onesie from Carol.  I need to get Zoë a new one, so she can back the Pack and we can have a shot at the playoffs.
 

Zoë had a good first Halloween. She dressed up in her Skelezoë costume. We had to wait until it was dark out, because the costume is made for cooler climes.



When the sun finally set, we dressed up Zoë in her costume and saddled her in the Bob.  Then Brian, Zoë, Thorbjorn, Huluhulu  and I all walked down to Hallowbaloo. 

We saw all sorts of crazy costumes.  Lots of Star Trek this year.  And everyone had to say hello to the dogs.  Zoë and I watched Doolin Rakes.  Big Z bounced up and down on my knee and watched all the crazy people passing by.

Anyway, by the time we put Zoë back in her stroller and decided to head home, Big Z was out.  Hopefully she will sleep well tonight. 

We're on our lunch break during voir dire. My trousers are falling down. On the one hand, that's good, because I'm losing the pregnancy weight. On the other hand, having one's trousers loose during trial is a bit awkward.

I'm second chairing this lady at work. We're on a break during voire dire. It's interesting to see how someone else thinks during trial.

Ugh, the vog is really bugging Zoë and Brian. Hopefully the trade winds will come back. Last night, we went for a long drive in the Hybridero just for the air conditioning. This morning, I was looking makai where the flight path of departing planes go. A passing airplane looked like it was flying through mist, the vog was so bad.

In the near future, I will be in a position where I will need to say something nice about someone I hate.  While searching for ideas, I came across Wobegonics.  It's such a nice example.  Fortunately, the person in question has lived his entire life in Hawai`i, so the Wobegonics will go over his head.  That'll be nice.

The Hawaii TV stations have chosen to air football games featuring teams other than the Packers.  Shame.  So I have to watch different teams. 

Go Steelers!!!

Zoë and Brian came to my office for our annual hallway trick-or-treat.  For some reason, prosecutors go all out for Halloween -- the hallways are decorated with cobwebs, signs, and random scary stuff.  Then everyone's kids come to the office for an hour and walk the hallways, while we give out treats.  Some people go all out.  Our victim/witness supervisor, for example, wears a spider leotard, brings a boombox, blasts "Boris the Spider" really loud, and dances in a spotlight all afternoon.  Zoë liked him best.

Anyway, Big Z was a little weirded out.  All the babies her age were weirded out, actually.  But it's never to early to encourage brain development.  Of a particular sort.

My poor mother still has a broken foot.  Now her doctor has my mother zapping her foot with some fancy device that delivers electrical impulses.  Supposedly the zapper will help the fracture heal.  She just has to zap herself twice a day for six weeks. 

My mom tells me the zapping machine costs $4,000.  Fortunately Medicare should pay for it.  But I told her she could have saved herself the effort.  I would have sent her a taser, and she'd have been cured in one session.

Big Z swiftly recovered from her recent illness.  And at her latest baby-vet appointment, she weighed in at 50%-ile weight and stretched out to 90% -ile height.  Her growth spurts are amusing to watch.  First, she gets really hungry.  She eats and eats and eats.  Then, she grows nice and chunky.  And after that, poof!  She expands along her verticle axis and then she's skinny again. 

Anyway, I think we need to feed her more solid food.  Zoë sure does love her oatmeal.  Notice the action shot of her right hand.



She tracks the oatmeal almost as well as she tracks her father's Frappuccino.



We did end up buying her a regular high chair.  The Bumbo has become inadequate to contain Zoë's mighty squirms.  So now we have yet more baby furniture in our 560-square-foot house.  *Sigh*  But Big Z enjoys sitting up and gazing upon her domain, so I'm not really complaining.

Brian and I were gender stereotypes tonight. Brian was watching Road Warrior, when he decided it was time to go to bed. So I took over the T.V. remote and switched the channel to one of TLC's wedding shows. Brian said the road warrior should make an appearance on TLC. Maybe Road Warrior -- What Not to Wear. I said Nick Arrojo could wash the grease out of Mel Gibson's hair.