victory (noun)

There are misconceptions about how the mind of a prosecutor works.  No, we are not robots.

There are misconceptions about prosecutors in general.  No, we are not all the same. 

That was a bit repetitive.  

But I believe the biggest misconception is how we define “victory” and “win”.  It’s not just a guilty plea or a guilty verdict.  Really, the only time I fist pump after one of those is when it involves a bad, bad person who needs to go far, far away.  The murderers.  The violent rapists.  The ones who hurt children and show no remorse.

I don’t fist pump on cases with addicts when there’s a guilty plea or a guilty verdict.  It’s more of a feeling of sadness.  Maybe a prayer afterwards that this time it will sink in.  It’s the kind of verdict where I don’t look at the defendant’s family members, because they always look tired.  And sad.  And confused as to how their loved one went into a downward spiral. 

And many times, a few months later we see the same defendant again.  On the same charges.  It’s frustrating as heck.  And that’s not a victory for anybody.

But there are times when a victory is so great in these cases, that it puts a pep in your step and a smile on your face. Yesterday, a few of my wonderful friends took me out to a birthday lunch at an undisclosed restaurant in Rapid City.  I was a few minutes late, and they had already ordered.  When I sat down, one of my friends identified our waitress by name to me.  “Oh dear,” I thought, “this won’t end well.” 

Shame on me.

She looked FANTASTIC.  I didn’t even recognize her.  Gone were the visual indicators of methamphetamine use.  Gone was the surly scowl on her face.  Gone was the tired.  Gone was the anger.  Gone was that addict I remember from a few years back.  The one who tried to kill me with a look whenever I walked into a courtroom.

I didn’t even prosecute this woman in adult court.  Another prosecutor (also at the lunch table) had her cases about five years prior.  I dealt with the woman in Abuse and Neglect court at the same time, when her addiction put her children and her nieces and nephews at risk.  She was not friendly.  She was not happy.  She was not pretty.

Yet, on October 14^th, 2015… she was friendly.  She was happy.  She was gorgeous.  She was an amazing waitress.

It took a lot for her to get there, including prison and treatment.  But she was there.    

Smiling at me.  

Happy to be working.  

Happy to be healthy.

And she gave us free dessert.

And that, my friends…is an epic victory for all involved.

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Eating: I just finished a Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino. #basicwhitegirl

Listening to: My fingers typing on the keys

Annoyed at: the brief I'm about to edit

Shopping for: Nothing.  Wait...what?  

Sidenote of the Day: Saturday is National Pasta Day.  Prepare yourselves for a proper celebration.

A Birthday Gift to Myself

On Saturday, I turn 37.  Holy Cow.  When did I get old? 

I like this age.  But today I will commit to making this the best year ever (which will be hard…because the last 36 have pretty much rocked).  How will I achieve this goal?  By choosing to make myself better. One choice at a time. 

I don’t mean to imply that I’m not happy, or healthy, or content.  I am all of those things.  But why settle when there is always better?

That will be my gift to myself this year.  Choices that lead to a better me.

My Choices

• I choose to blog again – I haven’t posted on here regularly in a long time.  I miss it.  Although some of my posts have focused more on the serious…I want this to be a reflection of who I am. So be ready for a sprinkle of sass.
• I choose to let go of the reins…a little bit – I’ve always been a Type A.  I like to be in charge.  Bossy?  Maybe a smidge.  I know that won’t change.  But it’s a bit refreshing to take a step back sometimes.  Let others make the decisions.  This choice will probably be the most challenging when it comes to my kids.  But nobody will know how good their parenting skills are until they aren’t involved in the decision-making process.  I’ve got great kids.  I’m proud to be a part of their lives.  So in the next year, I will sit in another seat. They can drive.  Sometimes.  And I will be in the front seat.  Watching.  Or maybe I will try the back seat. 
• I choose exercise – I’ve started getting back into the gym on a regular basis.  It feels good.  An hour there makes my other hours better.  I need to remember that.
• I choose happiness – after a decision is made, there are two ways to remember it…positively or negatively.  I choose the positive. I choose to make my next step happy.
• I choose my battles – As much fun as it is to always be right… is it worth it? What is achieved when you fight every battle that you encounter?  There’s no better teacher of this life choice than a stubborn 5 year-old boy.  I know he will be my life coach in the coming year when it comes to choosing my battles. 
• I choose dreams – You are NEVER too old to dream.  Adults forget that.  PARENTS forget that they can dream for themselves as well as their kids.  I’m 37 (almost), but that doesn’t mean I’m done thinking about what I want to do, what I can do and what I need to do.  Hopes, dreams and goals make me smile.  They give me focus.  They help with my drive.  And I need to think about them often.
• I choose myself – I need to remember that I am me, and me is good.  No matter what size.  No matter what I’m doing.  I am worthy of where I am.

So thanks, year 36…I’m done with you.  This year, I choose to live life to the fullest.  I choose a spectacular 37^th year.

Eating: Since I’m taking tomorrow off, I brought McDonald’s breakfast to the office for my birthday treat.  The vultures ate it up.

Listening to: Numb/Encore by Jay-Z and Linkin Park

Annoyed at: Nothing

Shopping for: Brown Boots!!  I need them.  Don’t tell my husband.

Sidenote of the Day: What was invented first?  The whip or the nae-nae?