I'm just going to write a bit about my morning.
Jakob likes to throw his pants over the chair in our room. It's fine that he does this. He has a small closet and I tend to throw my clothes in one big pile by my dresser. I tell myself it's not dumpy, it's modern art.
Anywho, his jeans are draped over the back of the chair and, more often than not, he leaves coins in his pockets. Whatever change he's accumulated throughout the day is just barely defying gravity as it clings to the inner most region of his pocket. I go to sit in the chair to put on my shoes this morning and a bunch of coins fell out of Jakob's pants and into the back of MY pants! My 'coin slot' LITERARLY became a coin slot. I had to fish change out from my crack. Think about that the next time you get change at the store!
Then, I go to get a Friday latte. I normally get a black coffee because I'm all cool and hardcore and a tough cookie and all that. (Um...I'm a poser.) But on Fridays I get a latte to congratulate myself for making it through another week.
The guy at Indie Coffee asked me my name. I said, 'Nicole.' He said, "Nickel?" Yep. That's my name. Nickel. What? Who's name is Nickel? I corrected him and took my drink.
As I walked away, I started thinking about my name and how I've had such a love /hate relationship with it over the years. I feel like I don't fit in with other ladies named 'Nicole.' They tend to be powerful or sexy and I am neither. Then there are times when it suits me. 'Nicole' could be adventurous. Sure. Nicole could be the name of the tomboy who climbed trees with you and played in the mud and eventually became your first crush...maybe. And as I was getting lost in this thought, I fell. I tripped. It was an incredibly goofy trip, one you can't convert into a wobble or a dance move. I tried to save my latte, but my congratulatory beverage was destined for the pavement.
I remained on the ground and laughed. No one was even around to see my beautiful blunder, so I had to write about it.
I'm just going to write a bit about my morning.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:03 AM
After dinner, Cooper had liquified lasagna in his hair and cookie crumbs embedded in his fingers. It was time for a bath.
As we sang 'Rubber Ducky, You're the One,' I suddenly had a vivid memory of my own mother blowing bubbles with me in the tub.
Bubbles are a great way to mind-freak a 10-month old. They're round. They float. They fly. They vanish. He was fully entertained.
Cooper recently discovered "splashing."
How can I even begin to describe the look of glee on his face as his hand came slamming down against the water and made a mighty splash?
That's pure happiness.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 5:13 PM
There's a video music channel called, ,THE TUBE that I'm a little in love with. You may or may not get it in your area. If you do, isn't it the best?! If you don't, it IS the best. I can't call this a poem. Here is today's musing.
I accidentally press 304, but the channel I want is 305.
Occasionally, you disappoint.
Those lapses into Matchbox 20 and James Blunt almost make me want to shun you.
But you keep me hangin’ on with Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.
Something old (Talking Heads)
Something new (The Raconteurs)
Something borrowed (Elvis Costello singing ‘God Only Knows’)
Something blue (Aimee Mann)
Natalie Merchant singing ‘Because the Night.’
She has black eyes like a dead shark.
Would you ever dare to play the Patti Smith version?
The Smiths, “How Soon Is Now.”
Makes me feel young, silly and want to kiss boys who wear eyeliner.
Whale’s ‘Hobo Humpin’ Slobo Babe.’
1994. That’s the year I lost my silly and got angry.
Mad at the world and attracted to the rage of others.
‘Naked Eye’ by Luscious Jackson.
Karen and I in our messy dorm drinking forties and eating nachos.
For a minute, I’m sad.
All we grow is old.
I’m not cool.
I’ll listen to The Killers
But I can’t bring myself to like ‘My Chemical Romance.’
Then the Red Hot Chili Peppers come on.
I don’t know the name of it.
It’s a new one.
Just imagine a modern Chili Peppers song.
That’s what it sounds like.
They all sound the same.
But then Beck’s ‘Devil’s Haircut’ saves the afternoon.
Beck was good then and he’s good now.
That makes me feel better.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:35 AM
I mentioned that you were 10 months old today and the woman I was talking to uttered an enormous, "WOW!"
You spend LONG stretches of time on your feet. You're so strong. I can't believe how much strength your small body has. You're a powerful kid. Changing your diaper has become a Herculean task! You keep flipping all around the changing table like a Yugslavian Yimnist. I've been meaning to talk to you about these flip-flopping episodes. It's frightening for me when you've had a gigantic poop. All that enthusiastic twirling is terrirying when turds are involved.
It seems that you'd much rather stand than sit. You eat little finger foods. You really like banana flavored rice puffs and apple wagon wheels.
I can't believe it's been 10 months. You used to be the size of an M & M.
Next thing I know, you'll be going to college. (Note to self: SAVE MONEY NOW.)
I love you, Cooper. You're my boy. You're the best.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 4:34 PM
Coop is too small for candy, so the Easter Bunny got him these winsome striped pajamas instead. Halloween and Valentines Day already focus on candy. More holidays should focus on pajamas.
The Eastern Bunny also gave Cooper this jacket. Jakob wishes he had one just like it.
Shouldn't the caption for this pic be, "Yeah...reading's pretty cool."
It looks like he's steppin' out on the club scene.
Pepere and Cooper in their Sunday best. (Dig those bunny slippers, Mimi! Thank you.)
What will it take to get you to by this suitcase today?
Coop had bits of glazed ham today. He went nuts for it. He's a ham fan. Doesn't surprise me.
He's addicted to the Muppet Show. He likes Fozzie Bear.
It was a great Easter. And if you want to hear about the results of our 'Peep Joust,' visit MightyMcPilgrim.com.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:57 PM
WARNING--Today's post is NAUGHTY in a 1850's kind of way.
I love online generators. There's The Random Band Name Generator and then there's the Screenwriter's Logline Generator for those suffering from writer's block.
But I have a new favorite! My dear friend Kate Turnipseed turned me onto the Victorian "Passion" Cry Generator. NOTE: This site is not really "work safe." It's sort of dirty, so refrain from clicking on it unless your cubical has high sectionals.
Anyway, here are some examples of Victorian Love Cries. These are great for when you need something sexy to say, but you're sick of using words like "hump" and "boink."
"Your lips pursue me, so that I cannot escape from kissing them in purest self-defense!"
"What floods of bliss! What melting transports! What agonies of delight!"
"You have caused me to suffer a pleasure that transports me to the land I knew not but dreamed of unawares!"
"These fleshly orbs shake with undisguised pleasure!"
"Quickly, my love! These bonds excite me to a fever's pitch but I fear me that the Lady will soon be wanting her petticoats back!"
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:14 AM