electric boogaloo

We are sort of mellow about gender roles. There’s that wonderful Woody Guthrie song that goes

Why can’t a grandpa be a grandma? Tell me why oh why?
Same reason your daddy is not your mama
Goodbye goodbye goodbye

That’s about as deep as it gets around here. The boys know that boys have different anatomy and ladies are generally the only ones who can have babies, but other than that we haven’t really ever clarified what boys are supposed to do or like or want or be. It helps too that our kids aren’t in school right now and we have no television and generally insulate ourselves from the outside world, partly because we’re antisocial jerks (me) and partly because we’re just lame (Kevin).

So it’s turned out to be sort of an interesting social experiment. In the absence of any overt pressure to be “all boy”, what does a boy act like?

Observations/results so far:
You end up with a boy who is a dancing swan showing off his ballet moves one minute, and blowing things up the next. Nicolaus loves things that are glittery and jewel-encrusted, has already picked out some lovely sandals at Target that he hopes I’ll buy him for summer, and plays with babies and animals and really can’t decide which is prettier: unicorns or peguseses.

But then he’ll spend an entire day playing this thing where see? There’s two brothers. And one of their parents was an Indian and the other was a white settler, and so one of the brothers is Indian and one is a white settler and so together! They fight evildoers on both sides! Holy shit, you guys. What they do to the bad people they capture? The Lone Ranger would not approve.

For starters, they shrink the bad guy down to the size of a plastic toy generic gi joe-type guy. It’s their only army man toy, and it has no arms because of an inexplicable design choice where the guy is supposed to have interchangeable arms. What the fuck? My mother in law bought it, and even she does not know why. It came with all these little parts and several arms, which are all now missing. So all we have is an armless dude. Which was perfect though because it turns out that Nicolaus has a magical RING, which looks suspiciously like something that a pre-teen girl might buy at Claire’s, that REMOVES YOUR ARMS. The arm removal takes place after the ring shrinks you down so you can’t beat anybody up. It’s all very intense.

Sometimes he wears gigantic butterfly wings out in public. When people whisper “Hee hee look at the butterfly,” he is wholly offended. A butterfly! Do I look like a sissy?? And he defiantly declares, “I am not a butterfly. I am a FAIRY.”

He’s king of the fairies in fact, on account of this crown and also thanks to being several hundred times larger than most fairies.

Which was excellent when we went to the playground with my nephew last week. The butterfly wings caused much confusion because, like many people do, all the kids wrongly thought he was a butterfly. So my nephew took up the cause, and marched around telling everyone, “My cousin is a GIANT FAIRY.”

And Nicolaus nodded and was very pleased. I’m writing this down because whether both of them turn out gay or straight or what, that’s going to be awesome to tell him about when he’s older.

But his favorite book at the library is The History of Weapons. It’s a picture book that shows in great detail all of the weapons from ancient Greece and India and China and so on and the best way to get him to be good at the post office is to bring that book and a bunch of strips of paper and tell him to sit down and mark all his favorite pages. He’ll tell you which knives are for cutting and which are for stabbing and which are for… well, anyway. Boy stuff.

The experiment continues with Graham. His favorite color is bright magenta, also known as pink. He steals my flowery headbands and wears them. And as much as he loves cars and robots and building and wrecking, the other day my mom took him to the Walmart toy section to buy him a dump truck, and instead he came home with a baby doll wearing a lavendar hat with little hearts. It moves and coos and says Mama. He named her Campy Ard, and he and Nicolaus have been taking excellent care of her. Admittedly, they care for her between periods of neglect that would warrant a call to CPS, but it’s not because they’re boys. It’s because they’re little kids. That’s why everyone’s against 5 and 2 year olds having children. They make sweet but crappy parents.

Last night Nicolaus showed Graham how to change Campy’s diapers. Nicolaus adores babies, and is as sweet and attentive as any little girl would be.

But then again, last night I heard him say, “Graham, there’s something about her that’s not 100% baby. I think she might be mostly baby but a tiny part warrior. The next time people are attacking the city, we’ll have to report to the baby and find out what weapons she wants us to use.”

So there you go. You can take the overt societally-generated preconceived gender roles out of the boy, but you can’t take the boy out of the overt societally-generated preconceived gender roles.

The beautiful thing about quoting conversations with a two year old is that there is no such thing as taking it out of context. There IS no context that makes it make sense. He is two. So here’s the kinds of things you’ll hear me say during the course of a normal day:

“No! I mean - yes, milk does come out of cows. But no, it doesn’t come out of their mouths.”

“I do not want to have to say this again: NO riding tricycles during dinner.”

“Honey, people don’t like when you stab them. No one likes that.”

(the response to this was: Why? Why do people not like that? Nicolaus never did the classic “why why why” thing. He asked questions, but they were more what questions. What is that bird doing? What is the meaning of life? Etc. But Graham is doing the why thing. It’s very endearing but lately I sort of want to die by the end of the day. (Why?) )

Graham’s other excellent questions and comments from the past few days include:
“I have a penis. What do YOU have?”

“Barack OMAMA! That’s funny. Barack. O. NICOLISS!”

Oh and he has his birthday all planned out. On his birthday we will wake up and go to the zoo, where he is hoping to ride and/or pet and/or befriend a baby giraffe. Because adult ones are way too big, duh. Then we will drive home and there will be a party waiting for him in his house with a cake and a green balloon and a yellow balloon also. And that will be happy!

I was surprised that he didn’t want to go to Chuck E Cheese after completely loving his cousin’s recent birthday party there. But today he told Kevin, “Daddy? I love Chuck E Cheese. But, Daddy? That big-enormous mouse? Freaked me OUT.”

We’ve never heard him use that phrase before, but he’s right. Big mouse = freaky. And I’m pretty sure Chuck is in fact a rat, which is even more freaky. Either way, a definite health code violation to have him cooking pizza for children.

Also overheard in Grahamland:
I have babies in my tummy too. Mine are two girl babies. They don’t have a penis, but they can still poop.

(playing with tiny plastic people and a large plastic jeep): You’d better be good in that jeep! No! I’m going to be really naughty! Don’t do that, don’t be naughty in that jeep!

I stopped myself from interrupting his quiet pretend play. But I really want to know what the hell was going on in that jeep.

When our friends were here last week, he was quite taken with their two-year-old Maggie. He eagerly shared his toys with her, followed her all over the park, and generally went along with anything she suggested. They both speak standard dialects of garbled toddler, and they both listened to each other attentively, nearly ripping my car in half with cuteness whenever we put them in carseats side by side and drove around listening to them converse. The only time I saw Graham yell at her was one night at dinner.

GRAHAM: Mama, I want ice wadder in my cup.

MAGGIE: Can me has ice wawa pease? Me want ice wawa.

GRAHAM: We don’t have ice lava.

MAGGIE: Yes!! Me WANT ice wawa in my CUP.

GRAHAM: You can’t have lava in your cup. We don’t have lava.

MAGGIE: ME WANT WAWA

GRAHAM: NO WE DON’T HAVE ANY LAVA!

MAGGIE: YESSSS!!!! WAWAAAAA

GRAHAM: NOOOOO YOU CAN’T HAVE LAVA!!!

It true, you can go ahead and judge me. I don’t buy lava for my kids to drink, because I don’t think that beverages that are >2500 F are good for growing bodies. That plus artificial dyes and sweeteners are my big hang ups. I know, I know, when they are 18 and they go off to college they’re going to go totally out of control and drink nothing BUT molten sedimentary rock because it’s been the forbidden fruit all these years, but you know what? They will be adults making that choice. And by then their bones will have fully formed and a cure may have been found for permanent disfigurement caused by fourth degree internal burn wounds.

You are so jealous of me. Because I have twin nephews. Who are TWINS. Both of them. I mean each of them. Whatever. Two!

This morning we drove my mom to the airport so she could go and meet them and give unto them a very important letter that was dictated to me by their eldest cousin. In the letter, Nicolaus welcomed them to the world, introduced himself, and then gave them instructions on the real way to whistle. That’s their first installment. He also has a whole tape of information that is almost ready to send to the babies which includes the history of the world, the cautionary story of twin brothers Romulus and Remus, and general advice and information about life on planet earth. It would make a great basis for a religion, actually, so if you know anyone who needs a manifesto for theirs send me an email. The two main commandments are:
1. Never try to kill each other and
2. Never try to take over the world. Because “that’s not really considered a good thing to do.”

Which are good ones.

My brain has been too full this week. Big projects, big lists of things to do, suburbanite money worries, selling our house in Texas and all of the fun that goes with inspections and everything, running down endless computer-upgrade rabbit holes, and this sort of general background sense that at 40 weeks maybe it is now time that my sister in law should quit being such a selfish whore and HAVE THOSE DANG BABIES ALREADY.

My mom was in town for much of the week, which would normally be a wonderful distraction but she was busy deciding whether her energy was better spent shopping for exactly the right kind of baby socks that babies can’t easily kick off because even in summer heat babies must have socks OR reading wikipedia articles about how to perform a c-section in case she ended up needing to personally fly up to New York, kill the OB, sedate my brother and his wife and deliver the babies herself since no one else seemed to understand the urgency here.

So she did a bit of both, and sometimes cried because if she had only gone to medical school instead of chasing George Harrison around none of this would even be an issue. I, meanwhile, focused on being stressed about everything else.

My children, sensing the tension, did their best to add excitement by acting like labrador puppies. Which a lot of people find cute but you will notice that I don’t have any labrador puppies. This is a deliberate choice on my part. If someone knocked on my door right now and offered to give me an armful of labrador puppies I would say no, and maybe even call the police. Partly because it’s 1 in the morning and my god! But also because — well, no offense if you love labrador puppies.

Anyway. That wrestling, wallowing/ rolling/ squealing thing that the boys do always makes me nervous because hey guys! Is that playing or is it fighting? Oh, okay it’s just playing. I should chill out, it’s just playing. Oh hell, now it’s fighting. And now they’re yelling at each other and one is crying and oh my god. Oh wait. Now they’re laughing. This game sucks.

So: stressfull week in which my mom and I spent too much money, ate too much junk, burned too much gas, and — no wonder my kids were totally nuts by Wednesday — just drove around running mission-critical errands and going places to help distract my mom from seriously ending up on the news over OMFG why are there still no babies?? We had a very close call when that Jolie lady had the nerve to have her twins way before hers were even due. Holy shit. Thank God for $3 margarita hour is all I can say.

But none of that matters now because you know why? Well 1. The week is almost over and 2. My art supplies arrived in the mail today and most of all 3. Babies!!!!!!!

I told you you were jealous.

A quick artypants update. Even as I ready myself to take over the world, it is important to remember that everything happens in small steps. Each step is exciting, and we’re having a lot of fun. We go to the post office twice a week, and celebrate afterwards every time. Because we’re dorks.

So here’s what’s going on in nerd art land:

Good buzz
Every once in a while I get some friendly blog mentions. Those are good! Some recent good:
* Wonderful words from the fabulous Geek Parenting Us nerds and geeks have to stick together.

* Indie Retailer of the Day, Moue Magazine

* A nice little “We’re not sure if these are funny or disturbing” write up from OhGizmo.

* And a subsequent mention in German. I don’t speak German. The guy’s photo looks pretty happy, so I’m going to assume it says good things.

Sweet retailers
* Shima, in MA
* Sprout, in California
* Trunkt — not technically a retailer, but will hopefully help retailers find me
* LivingPlaying.com The site that makes me want to buy everything even though I’m focused on paying off debt but oh my god look at those cute wooden puzzles! Etc.

Good plans
I am working on fifty things at once, like always. Here’s what I should have ready to rock by the end of the summer:
* 18″x24″ posters of my Laws and Formulas series, as well as all of the ABCs and 123s.
* A new set of Nerdy Number flash cards
* A small baby physics activity book
* A complete bio nerd gift set for the holidays (only producing 20, they are labor intensive yo)
* Several new 8×10 prints

That’s it, that’s all I’m working on right now. Oh, and also I’m very busy pitching myself to any magazine I can find in a frantic attempt to get into someone’s gift guide. Don’t know why I have not yet heard back from Texas Parks and Wildlife. Need to also approach science museums, gift shops, boutiques, etc. Because posters come in big quantities, and my studio is small. Must sell things to people.

Right now I’m also grabbing any freelance writing and/or design work I can get my greedy, debt-ridden hands on. So you know, if you need anything or know anyone who does… you dig? I promise not to use the word motherfucker in your powerpoint unless it is 100% appropriate.

Oooh and! Did I mention that I have a plexiglass art show in September that I need to be working on? And I’m also designing baby announcements for my pending twin nephews? And also homeschooling. And obsessively washing, drying, folding, and putting away laundry because YOU BITCHES DID NOT WARN ME that it would turn into a whole stupid thing. I can be almost asleep and hear the drier click off and think Oooh! I should get up and put those towels away! Then they’ll all be put away! And then! I should kill myself because oh my god what have I become.

But that’s really it, that’s all I’m working on right now.

It’s late, I’m wiped out, but three things

1. We had a lovely fourth of July, spent with lovely people from Texas. It was a rockin’ weekend of toddler wrangling, yummy-food eating, storm avoiding, mountain tromping, music playing, car driving, zoom zooming, playing, laughing, and of course what all good friends do together: mindless web surfing.

There was a horrific amount of cuteness all around. Example, fig.1:

and fig 2:

and fig 3:

2. Today was Switching Day!
You know, the national holiday where people switch carseats with their brother, and then their brother gets a new booster seat, and everyone switches sides and doesn’t cry? Yay!

As you know, Switching Day includes a song (”It’s Switching Day, it’s Switching Day, And all the children say hooRAY! Hooray because it’s Switching Day!”), Fanta Orange with lunch, balloons, and general merriment. Oh, and switching carseats, and not crying.

All the hoopla was for Graham’s benefit, but Nicolaus got a great deal out of it. He told every stranger we met that today was Switching Day, ya know, and so I have this new carseat and it’s really a booster and it has guess what? Two cup holders? And a snack tray and - wait this is the BEST PART. It has READING LIGHTS. Even though I can’t really read in English, I can only read bird speak, because I’m only five but it will still be useful for many different things to have a light and I got an orange soda and a balloon and even though I’m a little too old to be really obsessed with balloons, I still liked getting it because today is — you know, Switching Day…

3. Too tired now for the third thing. More later, gators.