We were wiggling and giggling and tickling, reading feminist works of literature about Paul and Judy, eating goldfish crackers, shelling peanuts and pretending the shells are boats and just generally having a big crazy party when Nicolaus suddenly said “dowwwn” and slid off my lap. He waved at me limply and said “na-na”. Night night? But we’re having so much fun! I figured he was faking me out but no, he headed into his room and started trying to climb into his crib. “Up! Bed! Up! Bed bed bed…”

It was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.

“Let’s brush your teeth first,” I tell him. He *loves* brushing his teeth; normally he’d do it until his gums bled if I let him. “No,” he whimpers, “Noononono. Bed. Bed!”

*shrug* So I halfway brushed his teeth and put him to bed. Weird, I think. Maybe he’s sick or something. Then Kevin notices what time it is. It’s 12:30! Jaysus. What kind of parents don’t notice when it’s a full three hours past their kid’s bedtime? Crappy parents, Nicolaus. Very crappy parents*.

*Crappy parents who own a lot of cool magnets and let you listen to Johnny Cash while everyone else makes their babies listen to Muzak versions of Bach. Just in case you are reading this and considering looking for new parents who adhere to bedtimes and feeding schedules.

I’ve been in bed for a large part of the last 24 hours. Some working, some reading, some socializing, but mostly feeling sick and lame and annoyed at myself for being sick and lame. Kevin and the baby went to visit his parents for the day, making it even easier for me to spend all day right here in bed. I ordered pizza and ate half of it over the course of the day, and nearly got to remember what it’s like to throw up half a pizza when I fell asleep instead. Ahhh naps are the perfect way to pass the time when you feel like complete ass.

Earlier this morning I was looking through some of my old to-do lists and lists of business ideas and lists of art projects and writing projects, just to see what exciting things I could do with my life if I were ambitious enough to actually do stuff, when I came across this:
Endless procrastination is the opposite of OCD. People with OCD have a specific compulsion to do something that doesn’t need to be done. I have a specific, gut-feeling-type aversion to doing things that aren’t that awful to do. Things that really need to get done.

And this…
Often when I examine my reasons for putting something off, it’s because there is some piece of information that I’m unclear about. So rather than writing a list of things I need to do, let’s write out the questions I have that are standing in my way of getting these things done.

Both were notes to myself at the top of a massive list of things to do. I don’t remember writing them but there they are… I can only guess that the wordiness of those notes to self was another form of procrastination.

Is this supposed to make me want to eat chicken? Orrrrr what?
http://www.subservientchicken.com/

I talked to my grandmother on Easter, and towards the end of our conversation, as her cell phone started cutting in and out she said what I could have sworn was, “I’m going to Bolivia and having dinner with Jane Goodall next month.”

I tried my best to clarify, because if she was in fact going to meet Jane Goodall I really wanted to send Jane a thank you gift for being the world’s greatest rock and roll musician and everything. Bolivia… Ja..oodall… *blip* month

Then, clear as day: “I’m going to stay away from the orphanages while I’m there though. Otherwise I’d end up bringing home a bunch of those beautiful babies.”

Okay… but um, Jane Goodall. Are you in fact meeting with Jane Goodall? Yes! … dinner with Jane… month.

God I hate cell phones.

So I talked to Kevin about making something special for Jane in the event that I had understood correctly that my grandmother was indeed flying to Bolivia to have dinner with her, orphanages notwithstanding. I asked some friends for ideas, and we all agreed – anything chimp-related would be just tacky. So what do you make for someone who spends all their time traveling and trying to save the forests? Anything to frou-frou was out of the question. I was thinking hairpins when a girl on my message board said that she knew Jane Goodall’s publisict, who said to look in Discover magazine to see a necklace that Jane picked out herself. Score!! So I set about drawing ideas for a necklace just for Jane. I showed my favorite drawing to Kevin and he made some suggestions that would make it even cooler. “How long did you say we have to do this?” he asked.

“A month,” I assured him, “I’m pretty sure.”

That night I talked to my grandmother again, only she was much clearer this time. “So Tuesday is that dinner with Jane Goodall…” she says. TUESDAY? As in this Tuesday? As in day after tomorrow Tuesday?? “Yes, she’s coming to town and I’ve been invited to dinner.”

Holy shit.

So! Kevin being a superhero, quickly changed into his superhero metalsmithing costume (tights, a leotard, and a cape – all printed to look like baggy jeans and a faded t-shirt with holes in it). He then spent the next 13 hours making this necklace…

This was what it looked like before he cleaned it up and polished it. I begged him to figure out a way to leave it like this but he said this finish wouldn’t last an hour if Jane actually wore the necklace. Ah well… I snapped a pic at least.

The inside is lined with 24K gold on a rough surface, so it looks sort of natural if that makes sense. Most of the time it looks dark in there but the light catches the gold from certain angles… The size and shape came out just like I’d imagined. It feels like you’re holding a precious seed or pod. I love my husband.

We overnighted the piece to my grandmother. I heard back last night what Jane said:
“It’s absolutely lovely. It’s a window, a window to the world… my world as I see it. I opened that window didn’t I?”

Nicolaus thought we were both asleep. He was laying between us eating the breakfast that three out of four lazy moms prefer – a wagon wheel. It’s a puffed rice little wheel with puffed rice spokes and everything. With my eyes just barely open, here is what I overheard:

Booty (his word for snacks)
Booteeeee

Booty.

Mohney. Mohney! Mohney! (Money – I guess it looked like a coin to him??)

*takes a bite* Eat. Eateateateeeat. Bopa (Boca. Spanish for mouth.)

*points to Kevin and whispers* Daddy. Na-na. (night-night)

*looks at wheel, which now has several bites out of it* Moon!

*holds wagon wheel up to my mouth, makes smacking/pretend eating noises*

Hole! (points to a hole in the wagon wheel)

*takes another bite* boat!

*stares up at the ceiling and starts listing things in general*

boat.

deeeal (drill)

Ninny (granny)

*hears an airplane flying over* Mawrmawr! (lawnmower)

*returns to list* boat.

Glockel! (Glockel is his made-up word for hammer. We have no idea where this came from.)

Glockel! *whispers, as if practicing* hamm… maaah

hamm… maaa. hammah.

*takes another bite* Bite. Eeeeat eeat. Bopa. Glockel!

Nothing profound, just a snippet of what my life is like right now. I could spend all day listening to him tell me all the things a wagon wheel makes him think of.