I’m feeling a little self-conscious because I keep posting the same kind of thing over and over. But just like I say on my photoblog about sunset pictures – it’s not my fault! He made a fist and said oh wow, I have boobies on my hands. How could I not post that??

But still, there are other things that happen in my life. I need to be careful because someday Nicolaus might learn how to read and might somehow get on the internet. And if he does, he might find this journal. Hey, it’ll be just like that guy on The Truman Show! So it would be irresponsible of me to give him the impression that the only thing I ever did was listen to him talk. According to all of the parenting books, that’s how your kid ends up having a big ego or resenting the constant pressure to say interesting things all the time. Plus, what if we have more kids eventually and then I get too busy to write it all down and those other kids feel left out and think that I love Nicolaus more than I love them?

(Other kids, if you’re reading this, I love you just as much as I love your older brother. You were every bit as funny and cute as he was. In fact, much more so! Rememer when I bought you a puppy? I never bought Nicolaus a puppy, mostly because I was worried that the puppy might outshine him in terms of cuteness and also in terms of not pissing on the floor. But you, I bought you a puppy. Even though you went off to college and left the puppy here for me to take care of, I know that you know that this puppy represents just how much I love you. Every time you call me on the phone (yes, you DO call your mother, imaginary other kids.) and you hear that dog yapping away in the background, let it warm your heart to know that your brother never got a puppy. Or any other living creature for that matter, as advised by the police after that incident with the fish he got for Christmas one year. Whose idea was it to give him a fish?? Fishing is HIS PASSION IN LIFE. Love, Mama)

To that end, here is a list of the cool, non-baby things that are happening with us right now.

1. Kevin is famous and stuff. On Friday the Dallas Morning News ran a fantastic article about him and his artwork. Lots and lots of really really incredibly nice words about him, plus a picture of him and another photo of some of his tea infusers. I can’t say emphatically enough just how much ass this kicks. Lots. So far two people have contacted us after reading about him in the paper.

2. Two of his pieces are in a museum in California. I think I posted about this before Christmas. The exhibit is called The History of Tea at the Triton Museum of Art. My parents went and snuck a bunch of pictures before they were asked to please stop taking pictures. After that my dad took a bunch more pictures, only they’re from weird angles because he was being so sneaky. Anyway we got to see how his work is displayed. Very beautiful and kind of amazing.

3. One more cool thing about Kevin. – All of this publicity stuff is well-timed because he just completed his application for a teacher certification program. He’s hoping to get a job as an art teacher within a couple of years. The publicity adds legitimacy to the whole “self employed” period on his resume. Sort of makes the difference between Artist, Self-employed: Worked full-time as an artisan, making silver tea accessories for collectors worldwide. and Artist, Self-employed: Did some abstract paintings and went to cocktail parties dressed in black. Ate a lot of Doritos while watching Gomer Pyle reruns.
If he gets accepted into the program, he is guaranteed a job. This would be so awesome for us… he could work at a job he enjoyed and have benefits, plus have enough time off to continue making art on the side. Right now he’s so exhausted all the time it’s hard to get much studio time in.
Please send us your good vibes… we won’t find out whether he got in for a few months. Yikes, waiting sucks.

4.Taxes. I thought famous and rich were supposed to go together? But they don’t always. The good news is that we just figured out that we made SO little money last year that the government feels sorry for us and is giving us a crapload back on our taxes. Which is kind of weird, right? It’s not really a refund since poor people don’t pay taxes. It’s like a pity stipend. Orrr… well, sort of like a little arts grant.

I’d feel bad about making other people pay our share of the federal income taxes but before we quit the rat race we paid in many, many craploads more than we are receiving now. It all evens out, right? Anyway if you had to pay in federal taxes last year, I’d like to personally thank you for paying whatever fraction of a penny went into the check we’ll be getting.

5. I just had a very happy birthday. I got flowers, a handmade felt hat, some very cool music, and enough money to either pay Nicolaus’ hospital bill from last fall or to totally freak my shit at Hobby Lobby. Decision pending.

6. Speaking of Hobby Lobby, I’m working on some artistic ways to make extra money. I just accidentally deleted the whole paragraph talking about this and I’m too lazy to retype it. But very cool artsy things to sell at craft shows, including possibly: handmade felt wall hangings, photo prints and notecards, one-of-a-kind paintings for nurseries and children’s rooms, and more painted violins.

7. A friend of mine and I are in the early stages of starting a business making very cool things that a certain very cool but stressed-out segment of the population could really use. I can’t talk about it just yet, it’s all very hush hush. But very cool. Shhhhh. !!!

8. Some interesting freelance work has recently found me. It’s part PR work, part marketing, part agent, part… coolness. My job description is becoming “Helps people find ways to do what they love for a living.” Potentially a very fulfilling business to be in.

9. I’ve made over $200 selling tsunami relief prints. And if I donate through my dad’s company, they will match it 100%. It’s a pretty incredible feeling to be able to contribute that much, considering we have NO extra money right now. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who bought a print. I hope it brings you lots of joy. :-)

10. I can’t think of anything else, but 10 is a nice round number. Hmmm… my sister in law is going to have a baby! Wait, you knew that already. Well it’s still pretty awesome. My uncle is going to give me voice lessons once a week, starting Wednesday. Pecan praline cookies are sooooooo dang yummy.

That’s it. Everything else we are doing has to do with Nicolaus.

“Hey, whatcha doing in there?”

*no answer*

“Nicolaus! What’re you doing?”

*no answer*

“NICOLAUS ANSWER ME. What are you doing?”

He whined. “Ohhhhhh! I thought you were workeeeng!”

What? “Well, I AM working. What are you doing?”

“I’m just… (mutter mumble)”

“What’s that?”

“I’m just doing somethin’ with your camera.”

This journal is mostly about pregnancy and parenting. It’s chock-full of useful insight and helpful tips. For your reading pleasure, here are a some examples of the kind of rollicking fun you’ll find here. Hey, can you tell I used to write marketing copy for a living? Terrific!

Belly buttons
Of all the gross, disturbing, bothersome, worrisome changes that one’s body undergoes while producing another human, I find myself disproportionately preoccupied with the thought of my belly button popping out. I told Kevin I was going to tape a marble into it so it won’t pop out, but he says that I would be depriving the baby of what is probably a critical cubic centimeter or so of space. Besides, what if it popped out all of a sudden anyway? The marble could fly across the room and hurt someone.

Those awesome pregnancy dreams
I’m watching Jeopardy.
This one contestant says “I’ll take asshole doctors for 500″
For the question, they play a tape of a woman listing her symptoms in a whiny, raspy voice. She says something like “Well, my head hurts and my skin feels dry and my throat is all dry and I’m really thirsty.”

The contestant answers “What is ‘Drink some water’?”

And Alex says “No, I’m sorry. The correct answer was Drink some water, you stupid whore.”

I woke up feeling very dehydrated.

Baby names
I like unusual, vaguely foreign-sounding names, and Kevin likes more traditional names, but nothing too popular. We both like the idea of naming him after old-timey scientists, but finding one that’s a nice-sounding name that people can pronounce and spell is quite a challenge. Copernicus and Archemedes are interesting names, but let’s face it, the poor kid’s going to be weird enough as it is.

My mom is all superstitious about naming babies after fictional characters who meet some unfortunate end, so Romeo, Old Yeller and Algernon are out. And Kevin’s mom randomly decides that certain names sound “like a Black person’s name”. This from a woman who wanted to name her son D’wayne.

The THRILL of the third trimester
I can still see my feet, but I think that’s mainly because I have such big feet.
—
People’s comments just remind you of how completely out of proportion you are — a slender girl with freakishly long limbs, giant feet, and an unnaturally huge lump for a stomach. You’re grumpy and bitter and even though Kevin is trying his best to make you comfortable, he’s probably a little scared of you at this point. Do you blame him? You walk through the house yelling things like “Kafka was such a jackass! Like he had a fucking clue what a metamorphosis really feels like!!”
—
The manager expressed very real concern that I might have the baby in his health club. I tried to reassure him by telling him that would be great publicity, but he didn’t seem at all excited about it. I decided not to mention that I was right at that moment having contractions.
—
DOCTOR: “Nurse, take a note. There seems to be an abnormal amount of cookie dough floating in the amniotic fluid.”

Family wisdom
My grandmother heard that we refer to our unborn baby as Pico and she informed my parents that it’s short for Picard. As in Star Trek.
Okay, in the first place, how funky is it that she knows the names of Star Trek characters? In the second place, yes, I am a big nerd but even I know that calling a fetus the name of a Starship captain is just plain wrong.
Unlike referring to him as a condiment, which is fine. Whatever. Shut up.

Childbirth
For the love of god, don’t show me the placenta! Yeah I know, miracle of life, blahblah blah. Whatever. That’s nasty.

Newborn management
We love things that are waterproof.

Anything that doesn’t soak up urine, breastmilk, formula, spit up, or bright yellow baby poo is fantastic. Our bedspread absorbs all of these things. We hate the bedspread. And the sheets, pillowcases, couch cushions, baby clothes, and my stupid thin cotton nightgowns. I want to live in a house where everything is made by Rubbermaid. And we’ll all be nudists. And the floors will slope down to a drain in the middle of the floor, and every hour or so sprinklers will come on and rinse everything down with nice clean hot water.

Yes, there is the concern that growing up in a house like that could make someone grow up to be a little weird, but you see we’ll save so much time on doing laundry and changing crib sheets that we can devote many more hours to teaching him about normal things like baseball or macrame or whatever it is that normal people teach their kids about.

It’s a brilliant plan that cannot fail.

Beautiful boy
He’s beautiful… I know every mother says that, but I believe my degree in art uniquely qualifies me to objectively assess the aesthetic appeal of my child. He looks exactly like Kevin except he’s less than two feet tall with giant long feet and freaky long fingers, chubby cheeks, and what looks like a receding hairline. But really. I swear. Beautiful.

Crying
We’re trying to do all this important stuff, but Nicolaus does this really annoying thing. He says, WAH. He really says it just like that. It isn’t crying exactly, just saying the word Wah real loud. Like he read a book on how to be a baby or something.

Drooling
Officials say that Sudden Drool Flooding (SDF) causes as many as 30 deaths a year in the United States alone. Parents often do not realize that a bout of fussiness and a single soaked onesie are important warning signs that a dangerous flood is about to occur. They urge parents to act quickly, and place the child in a bathtub or shower as soon as possible after warning signs appear. “To think that this could have been prevented with a little Baby Orajel ™ is just tragic,” said Officer Brady of the Tyler PD, “She had a burp rag in her hands… you could tell she was trying to soak it all up but it was just coming too much, too thick, too fast.” He added, “she just didn’t have a chance.” Her baby was unharmed in the drowning.

Talking
Bathtime exchange
ME: Ma-ma
NICOLAUS: DadadaDADAAADADA
ME: Mama
NICOLAUS: *smacks water with his hand* DAAAAda
ME: No, MMMMMMM-Mmmmm. Ma-ma.
NICOLAUS: *grin* Dada! Dada! Dadadadaaaada.
ME: No sweetie, I’m your MAma. MMMM-mmmmm-mama.
NICOLAUS: *silently mouthes “Ma”*
ME: Yyeah! That’s right! Mama!
NICOLAUS: Dada.

Being cute
Fuzzy bunnies, Mary Lou Retton, Kelly of Regis and Kelly, you may all be excused. The position for cutest freaking thing ever on the planet has been filled.

Really excellent parenting
I just overheard Kevin’s version of “this little piggy.” Playing with N’s toes, he says:
This little piggy got gangrene and fell off;
This little piggy had frostbite.
This little piggy got bitten off by a bear,
And this little piggy was stolen by a voodoo lady.
And THIS little piggy had flesh-eating bacteria that went wee-wee-wee- wee all the way home! (**Runs his fingers up the baby’s leg and tickles his chin. Baby squeals with delight.**)

Disturbing observations
So he just brought me a plastic bottle filled with white rice. Tee he said. Tee!

What’s that, baby?

Tee! He says it a bunch more times. He’s really excited, but I don’t know why. Finally he shakes the bottle with one hand and says it again Tee!, and with the other hand, pokes his finger into his mouth.

Teeth. He thought the rice looked like teeth. I am at once astonished by his insight and disturbed that he thinks we would fill a bottle with human teeth and give it to him to play with.

Dr.Mom
His tummy hurt. He crawled up into my lap and howled, “Hurrrrt! Hurt!” His arms squeezed my neck and he buried his face into my hair and begged me to fix it, “Ix it, mama ix it, ix it” I felt awful… there was nothing to do right then but rock him and hold him and run my mind through all the different things I could maybe try to help him feel better.

Then he farted. One of those deep, enormous farts that you can’t believe just came out of such a tiny person. His whole body relaxed; he sighed and hugged me gratefully.

“There,” I told him, “Mama fixed it.”

Bedtime
The kinds of things I say now in all seriousness:
WHAT is wrong? WHY are you crying? You don’t need to cry. You have your fish. You have your sailboat knife. You have your measuring cups. Now go to sleep. I love you, goodnight.

Running commentary
You pop your knuckles like always. It’s a dumb gross habit but no one ever comments on it so you kinda tell yourself that maybe no one even notices. So you pop your knuckles like always, and a little voice behind you says Firecrackers!
And then, in a more serious tone: “Dangerous.”

Firecrackers are very dangerous, I hope you know.

Pretending
At 5:30, Kevin had left for work an hour before. It was still dark outside, so the only light in the room was from our dim little bedside lamp bouncing off the orange walls. We were all piled up in the big grey bed, snuggled under blankets and surrounded by grey pillows. He was holding my hand, almost asleep. The radio was softly playing that good old-timey music.

“Nicolaus, you’re awesome.” I told him.

He opened his eyes and looked at me without turning his head. In a whisper, he corrected me firmly, “Name. Is. Pierre.”

“Oh. Sorry. You’re awesome, Pierre.”

And Pierre went to sleep.
—

Nicolaus was in the hallway coloring with a marker. He narrates everything he does, so I don’t worry much when he’s out of sight. Unless he says things like “Drawin’ That makeup! Make up!”

Ack! I ran into the hallway, expecting to see him gleefully scribbling with my lipstick. But, no – I was wrong, he was coloring with an orange marker. I shrugged and went back to my livejournaling. He kept saying Make up! but I didn’t worry about it since he was obvioulsy just pretending to draw with makeup.

A few minutes later I made him some toast and picked him up to take him to eat breakfast and saw his face. Which was. Covered. In. Orange. Marker.

Potty training
I just found this quote from the makers of Pull-up training pants:
“With all its stops, starts, joys and frustrations, potty training takes patience–an average of eight months from start to finish.”

8 months????!! That’s almost as long as it took me to make him in the first place.
—

He woke up crying because he wet the bed but didn’t want to tell me that he wet the bed. I try to be nonchalant whenever he’s sobbing like that so when he refused to get out of bed, I casually pressed for more information. Are you hurt? No! Are you sad? No. Are you scared? No. Are you mad? Yes. I mad! I’m just crying… (breaks down sobbing) Well, what are you mad about?

Finally he told me that he was just mad about pizza, he wanted some pizza and he wanted me to leave him alone.

Random entertainment
I helped him climb up on a chair and drop a frozen waffle into the toaster. He pushed the thing down and we watched. He always tries to be ready for it, but the POP! always startles the crap out of him. It’s hilarious. You know I don’t have TV right? This is prime time stuff right here, watching a little kid almost fall off his chair because it startles him every single time.
—

“I have boobies on my hands!”

“Do what? Oh! No, sweetie, those are your knuckles.”
—

To everyone out there who spent the sale price of my house to buy a Humvee so they would look really cool and badass, and picked Intimidator Yellow as the color so everyone would see your badassness from a mile away and who drives that badass vehicle around in the city because you know you look so badass in it:

My son thinks you are driving a little school bus.
—

So he’s been playing with two of the little googly eyes all morning. Just now he dropped them and they rolled way, way under my bed. Can you hear the screams from your house?

MY EYES!!! OH NO MAMA! MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I bet the neighbors think he just saw me naked.

Tonight he went to bed at 6:45. That would be like… I don’t know, like you going to bed at four in the afternoon. All this week he’s been sleeping incredible, wonderful, huge amounts and even taking naps with no argument. I feel so rested I could cry. I had no idea how tired I was. Remember back when I was huge and pregnant and I went swimming that time and all the weight was suddenly off of my hip and ohhhh my god it was the biggest relief of a feeling ever? That’s how awesome this feels.

Nicolaus: My love for you in unconditional, but I love you so much more when you sleep at night.

“I have boobies on my hands!”

“Do what? Oh! No, sweetie, those are your knuckles.“