He Likes It

I think Cooper likes it here. Here are things that Cooper enjoys:

1. His baby swing. It repeats 'Hush Little Baby,' 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,' and 'Frere Jacques' over and over and over and over again. Sometimes I hear it in my mind even when it's not playing. Oh the joys of sleep deprivation!

2. The sound of Daddy's voice. Cooper likes the tone of male voices. He's instantly calm when Jakob speaks to him. Cooper is officially the only person who has the patience to shut up and let Jakob speak his mind.

3. His 'Binky'. Like an idiot, I thought I'd prevent Cooper from using a pacifier. I didn't want to introduce any 'nipple confusion' since I was breastfeeding and I didn't want him to get any ortho-related issues. WHATEVER! I gave him the plug. He loved the plug. The plug works. End of story.

4. His hands. Which is why we must cover them in socks.



I know it looks redonkulous, but Cooper is a menace to himself! If his hands are not covered, he claws at his face, pokes his eyes (which led to a goopy infection requiring special eyedrops. YICK!) and sucks violently on his knuckles. We bought cute little mittens for him to wear, but he yanks them right off in a mad rage. The socks, due to their length and elastic top, offer the perfect glove, even if they do look silly.

His Indian name is 'Socks on Hands.'

For more new photos of Cooper, click here to visit Flickr.

Um, could you be any cuter? Huh?

Do you hate couples who take endless pictures of their newborn doing nothing but lying around being adorable? Well if so, you should really visit another blog.



Sure I'm biased. After all, he did pop out of me. But ain't he a handsome little man? Lock up yer daughters! This one's a heartbreaker!



For more new pix of Coop, click here to visit Flickr.

13 Days Later...

You've been in my life for 13 days and I can barely remember what things were like before you got here. You've transformed everything. It's amazing.



You only cry when you really need to be changed or fed. Otherwise, you'd rather not rock the boat. You're very much like your father in that respect. You love chewing on your knuckles and fingers. You like when I sing, "Rainbow Connection," when you're about to fall asleep and "Day O" when you've just woken up. When we read the book, "Count the Animals," you tend to fart when we get to the raccoons.



You loved meeting your Aunt Karen & Uncle Andrew. I think they dug you, too. Actually, most people who meet you fall instantly in love.



But no one is more smitten with you than your father. When you are with your dad, you are content. When the two of you look at each other, there seems to be a special understanding. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.

I never thought I'd love something that's so stinky. You are my beautiful, beautiful boy.

For more photos of Cooper, click here to visit Flickr.

Happy Father's Day

My father is the one who gave me the name for this blog. When I was an infant, I would flop and flail about like a wet noodle. He made a comic strip based on events from my childhood and called it 'Nikki Noodles.' It ran in the local paper when I was a kid. My dad has always made me feel like a superstar.

I remember being a little girl at an amusement park with my father. We went on a ride that spun around really fast. My legs were dangling from the ride's cart as we flew in circles. I was wearing flip-flops and I was scared they'd fly right off my feet. The carney controlling the ride asked everybody, "DO YOU WANNA GO FASTER?" Everyone yelled, "YEAH!" Except me. I was terrified. I screeched, "NO! SLOW DOWN! IT'S TOO FAST!!! I'M GOING TO LOSE MY SHOES!!!" My dad reached down and grabbed the flip-flops off my feet just in the nick of time. He then held me close and said, "It's ok. It's fun! Just scream and laugh!" Despite all the stress, yuck and crazy carnival rides in my life, my dad can always make me feel better. When my dad smiles, all my worries melt away.

He's my favorite artist. His work is pure. He's never pretentious. He makes art that he enjoys. He's done everything from paintings to cartoons to paper mache.




His latest passion is welded junk art. He takes trash and turns it into objects of humor and beauty. It's spectacular.
(To view more pictures of Joe Charbonneau's art, click here to visit Flickr. )



And now, he's a grandfather!

I can't wait for Cooper to meet his Grampa Joe. I know the two of them will get along famously. My dad will sing to Cooper, teach him how to draw and take him to the beach. Maybe he'll even take him to his first amusement park where he'll ride his first scary ride and learn to scream and laugh.



I love you, Dad. Happy Father's Day.

(For more new photos of Cooper K., click here to visit Flickr.)

A play-by-play rundown from the Dad...

After forty weeks of belly growin', my wife and I were belly achin' about when our little child would grace us with its presence. Even though he was due on June 9th, the high blood pressure/inducing scare of early May had left us on high alert for a month, so it started to feel like the baby was late and getting impossibly bigger by the second. So, on this past Friday (the due date), we went to our doctor's appointment knowing that if the option to induce was provided, we would leap into it that very day. A low level of amniotic fluid made that option more of a necessity.

We took the short drive down to St. Joseph's hospital to begin inducing labor. Over the next 24 hours, my wife embarked on "the hardest thing she's ever done." Thankfully, we had a dream team of nurses. First, there was The Greeter, Mary. She settled Nicole in with her cheerful and humorous demeanor, making us feel right at home.


Next came the Night Nurse, Danielle from Alabama. Nicole's labor started at 10 pm, with her contractions coming fast and furious, a minute long and a minute apart. Her water broke at 2:22 am, setting off a frenzy of contractions that Nicole fought valiantly for the next few hours. Danielle was there for all of this, and thank goodness because she eventually was able to use her powers of southern persuasion to make Nicole realize that there was no shame in her taking the epidural, because she really needed to conserve her strength for the pushing to come. At about 6 am, she took the epidural.

For some perspective, before the epidural, Nicole was 3 1/2 cm dilated after struggling all night for 2 of those centimeters, and in immense pain. After the epidural, she zonked out and was asleep for the next 2 1/2 hours. When she awoke, she found herself close to 9 cm dilated and ready to start pushing whenever the baby was ready. (Needless to say, Nicole's now thinking about becoming a national spokesperson for epidurals.)


And that brought us to the Closer, Susan. She was like that Maura Tierney character on ER, when she was Head Nurse. You know, the kind of nurse that all of the other nurses look up to, the kind that could easily be a doctor if she wanted to. Susan was all business, but at the same time so encouraging. The Closer made Nicole believe that she was the superwoman that she really is. 15 hours of labor culminated in less than an hour of pushing. In fact, Nicole had brought the baby to the precipice of birth, only to wait fifteen more minutes for the doctor to arrive, so the baby could be delivered.

Finally, at 12:43 pm on Saturday, June 10th, Nicole gave birth to our son, Cooper Kingsley White. Weighing in at 7 lbs 9 oz and measuring 20 3/4 inches long, Cooper was the culmination of the most anticipated 40 week stretch of our lives, and he did not disappoint.

Now on to the most anticipated 18 year stretch of our lives... and beyond.

For more photos, click here.

Soon. T'will be soon.

My mother-in-law sent me this photo with a note to 'hang in there.'

I'm so ready to birth this baby.

I'm thinking the grand event will happen this weekend. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow to check my bloodpressure and amniotic fluid and discuss inducing.



I'll be having my youngin' at this hispital: Providence St. Joseph's Medical Center. Their website offers a virtual tour of the labor & delivery pavillion, as well as an 'Online Baby Nursery' where you can check out the new arrivals. Our baby will be posted to the site 1-2 days after it springs forth into the world.

Thank you to everyone who has been checking in on me and looking after me. I have a sneaky suspicion that this may be my last post for a bit as I transition from el preggo grande to el mamma grandious.

Sunday In The Park With Jakob

Being so very pregnant during a heat wave can make one...what's the word I'm lookin' for? Cranky...grumpy...BITCHY! That's it! Bitchy! I'd been griping for most of the weekend. I needed an activity to make me laugh.



To cheer me up, Jakob took me to the park to blow bubbles. Here he is enjoying a smooth, mid-afternoon bubble pipe.



I like plain, circular bubble wands the best. They get the most bubble bang for your buck. Now they sell battery operated bubble blowers at the super market. Are people so lazy that they can't blow bubbles anymore? Really? You're telling me that they'd rather push a button and get a bunch of instant bubbles? Not me. I like old fashioned bubbles. Breath is what makes them live!



I dig this photo. Doesn't it look like I'm wearing the bubble as a monocle?



After the bubbles, we played a couple games of Skipbo and then we had Mac & Chee for lunch.

If you get married and have a family, I recommend doing it with your best friend.

For more bubble photos, click here to visit Flickr.

It's been hotter than a mutha lovah in the San Fernando Valley. Originally I had thought, "Oh, goody! I'll be done with this pregnancy before the real summer heat gets here." No such luck, kiddo.

Today's trip to the doctor's office was disappointing. They say my blood pressure is creeping up again and that my cervix is showing NO signs of progress compared to last week. COME ON, CERVIX! We've always been friends before. Why be stubborn when I need you most? (Insert haunting echo of the classic Firehouse ballad…"I need you nowwwwwww…More than words can say, I need you nowwwwww.")

Since it's a mere 7 days before my due date, I have a follow-up appointment on Tuesday (6/6/06…freaky!) when they'll check me again and perhaps talk about setting up a date to induce.

Induce. I kinda hate that word. For me, all I hear is a taunting subtext that says, "Your body is a slow poke."

I've been looking into some natural ways to get the ball rolling (out of my uterus and into the world) and here are a few options I've read about:

1. EAT THE SALAD
Supposedly, a salad containing romaine lettuce, watercress, red cabbage, walnuts, gorgonzola cheese & balsamic vinegar is supposed to bring about contractions. I tried this already. Nothing happened and I was still hungry.

2. SPICY FOOD
Some folks swear that if you pig out on Mexican, Cajun or Indian food than you'll go into labor within 24 hours. The drawback here is that you may end up with intense heartburn and gas as you head to the hospital. Will the nurses still provide me with loving care if I'm a fart machine?

3. DRINK COD LIVER OIL
Ewwwwwwww. Really? Let's save this as a last resort.

4. FOOT RUB
Massage therapists suggest rubbing the feet and ankles to inspire labor. I guess there are pressure points in the feet that are linked to your pelvic region. Jakob has been giving me ample foot rubs, but this is a good reason for me to henceforth request them nightly.

5. DO IT!
This is THE most popular method to bring about the birth of a baby. Sex releases a hormone called oxytocin, which causes the uterus to contract. Additionally, semen contains a substance known as prostaglandins, which will help soften the cervix. I guess I'd better go shave my legs.

If anyone out there has other suggestions, please send them my way.

FRANKENBELLY!!!!!

Howdy Little Monster in My Tummy!

BEHOLD! You live in my "FrankenBelly." It's bulbous, riddled with stretch marks and has a little creature inside of it that wriggles and writhes all darn day and night...YOU!

We're 17 days away from our official due date. Each day feels like an eternity. Sure, I'm ginormous, uncomfortable and I really miss having ankles. But mostly your dad and I are just so freakin' anxious to meet you. Trust me kid, you're pending arrival has got folks from coast to coast giddy with anticipation.

Pregnancy. What a long, strange trip it's been. I've never experienced such intense heartburn, mood swings, constipation, or love, love, LOVE. I can already tell that I'll miss being pregnant with you. I've loved feeling you grow inside me these past nine months.

But don't get me wrong. You DO need to come out. I know it's comfy in there with the good food and perfect temperature. But isn't it getting a wee bit cramped? You haven't dropped yet and I'm starting to wonder if you might be a procrastinator like your father. The truth is that you can't stay in my uterus forever. Sorry.

So start getting ready to pack up and move out. You'll dig it here. I promise. Plus you've got a bunch of cool toys, cool clothes and cool people waiting for you.

Hope to see you soon.

Love,

Mom

For My MOMS!!!!!!!!

This is a picture of my mom, Annemarie Charbonneau, in 1977. She just gave birth to me and she looks GORGEOUS! She's an extraordinary mother. Really, she's the best. As I count down the days to becoming a mother myself, I realize more and more how incredible she is.



This is a picture of my mother-in-law, JoLynn Bonin, in 1981. She's at her sister Jayne's wedding with a wee tiny version of what will eventually grow up to become my husband, Jakob. (Ain't he a CUTIE?!!!) I've heard people speak of their mother-in-laws with dread. I feel sorry for them. I lucked out BIG TIME! JoLynn is a generous friend, kind listener, and second mom to me.

Here's what I've learned from my moms...

#1. BE WHO YOU ARE!
You is who you is and trying to be something else is bunk! My mom always said, "Just be the best 'Nikki' you can be." Happiness is accepting and loving yourself. Neither of these ladies let other people define them. They stand up for themselves and they thrive.

#2. LAUGH, LAUGH & LAUGH SOME MORE
Sometimes, life can hand you a big bowl o' shite for you to swallow. Money woes. People get sick. Televisions fall on your head. There's a time to cry, but there's a time to laugh, too. I'm in awe of how both my moms have been able to get through all the tough stuff and still be crackin' jokes. And both moms have the most beautiful sounding laughter. Big, bold and intoxicating.

#3. YOU'RE STRONGER THAN YOU THINK, GIRL!
I have a tendency to want to give up and quit when things get hectic. But both moms continue to encourage me. Even when I think I can't, they are my cheerleaders jumping up and down and yelling, "We have faith in you!" And all of a sudden I think, "Well heck, maybe I can." And I do. And low and behold, I AM stronger than I originally imagined. When they believe in me, I believe in me. I'm a superhero!!!!!!!

#4. YOUR HUSBAND IS YOUR PARTNER, NOT YOUR DICTATOR
Both of my moms have remarkable spouses. I learned that marriage is playing on the same team together. He's not your boss. He's your equal. Your lucky to have him AND he's lucky to have you. I knew Jakob was the guy for me because everything I gave I got back.

#5. LOVE (IT'S ALL YOU REALLY NEED)
There's so much "stuff" in the world. Cars and houses and furniture and computers and ya dee ya dee ya. It's all just stuff. Money is just money. It can seem like the whole universe, but it isn't. Love endures all. And when you have love in your life, you are rich. And in that respect, I'm a very wealthy woman indeed.

Thank you, Moms! I hope my kid looks up to me the way I look up to you.

Happy Mother's Day.

Sit Yer Preggo Butt Down. That's an Order.

Friday scared the bejesus outta me.

Karen Stein (college roommate, 'Shop Til You Drop' cohort & dear friend) graciously brought me to my doctor's appointment at 12pm. They sent me to the hospital immediately.

My blood pressure was too high. There was a slight presence of protein in my urine. Preeclampsia. My doctor was planning to induce my labor. I burst into tears at the word, "induce." I'm currently 35 weeks pregnant and still over a month away from my due date. I started thinking about premature babies in NIC units with weak lungs.

I was buggin' out.

As they wheeled me up to Labor & Delivery, Karen asked the hospital volunteer if he's ever allowed to "pop a wheelie" with the wheelchair. She kept me laughing. She kept me calm. Thank goodness. (Oh, and his answer was, "No. Poppin' a wheelie would get me in big trouble.")

For several hours, I was hooked up to a fetal monitor and my blood pressure was closely watched. The nurses were amazing. They reassured me that if the baby were born that day, it would be fine. It was a healthy baby and nearly 7 freakin' pounds! (Good baby!)

I breathed. I meditated. My blood pressure went down. My body returned to normal.

They decided to discharge me with two conditions:

#1. I had to collect my pee for the next 24 hours and bring it back to the hospital for lab tests. FUN! If you've never done a pee collection, it's terribly GOOFY! You sit on a plastic seat thingy that rests on your toilet and then carefully pour your liquid gold into what looks like an orange juice jug.

#2. Bed rest. I have to stay in bed with my feet up. I'm not supposed to do anything. This. Is. Tough. You all know me! I'm a GO GETTER! I need to be nesting, organizing, cleaning, walking, ANYTHING. But I HAVE to stay in bed. For my health. For my baby.

That's where we're at. I'm in bed. Resting. Watching Oprah.

Give me a call if you've got some time. For once, you know I'm home.

Baby Shower Extravaganza!!!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention that my friends are AMAZING?!?

This past Saturday was my 'Rockin' Baby Shower. ' It lived up to its name.

Lisa Sichi, Kate Turnipseed & Nicole Elliott-Bayes truly outdid themselves on every level. They decorated my apartment with paper lanterns, streamers & balloons. The color scheme was my favorite pallet: black, white & red. Very rock n' roll. Very White Stripes-ish. Coincidentally, I learned that black, white & red are the very first colors babies see.

Elliott (I MUST get used to "Elliott-Bayes." She's a married lady now!!!!) made the most delectable cupcakes. She went as far as to provide BOTH chocolate and vanilla selections. Pure. Cupcake. Heaven.

Turnip made this STUNNING cake. Since Jakob & I are waiting until birth to find out the sex of the baby, she made it a half boy/half girl cake and named it, "Hermmie." There was food aplenty. Instead of 'pigs in a blanket,' the partygoers were treated to 'piglets in a diaper' (a.k.a. mini-cocktail weenies wrapped in dough diapers). TOO FREAKIN' CUTE!

Sichi was the best darn Game Show Host...EVAH! We're talkin' pro. The first game was "Baby Pictionary." The clues were all song or movie titles that had to do with parenting & babies. Million Dollar Baby. Hit Me Baby One More Time. Parent Trap. Andrew Giza was victorious.

The next game was "Make Your Own Clay Baby." The contestants had five minutes to mold a clay baby. It could be at any stage they wished, be it zygote, fetus, infant or toddler.

Chantal DeGroat went with a monochromatic baby which she says is, "really fashionable in Europe." Cristine McClure made a happy baby with a white umbilical cord, green smile and pink body. Very 'Pop Art.' Matt Duersten's baby looked like it had a huge phallus, but he assured me that it was an umbilical cord. Mike Yank's baby had a yellow diaper because it peed itself.

The winner: Sue Bell! Her baby had great detail (Sure she was a bit of a ringer. She IS a Havard artist) and a cute Buddah belly. We gave an honorable mention to Asterios Kokkinos' enormous, orange, cigarette-smoking baby named 'Giganticus.'

The final game was a hoot. 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' is lame. HOWEVER, 'Pin the Tattoo on the Baby' is RAD! Kevin Chesley took top prize here.

Sichi also made a fun (and challenging) 'Beautiful Baby Word Find' and a stellar guestbook where folks could not only guess the sex, weight & birthday of our bundle of joy, but also gives us some sound advice about raising kids. Here's a few samples:

Having been a weird kid myself once, let em' be weird.
-Andrew Giza

Having been a flatulent kid once, check before you change. Just cuz' she smells funny, doesn't mean she's dirty.
-Michael Hennessy

Having been a bratty kid once, presents solve everything.
-Karen Stein

When at the airport and immigration is giving you sh*t, pinch your baby's butt and make him cry. You'll get through much faster.
-Alex & Edy

Jakob and I are very lucky.


A GIGANTICUS THANK YOU to everyone. I was blown away by all your enormous generosity. I'll be sending specific 'thank you's' this week to each of you, but I wanted to get this post up right away and let you know how much this past weekend warmed our hearts. (And so my family back East can peek at the pix.)

I made a weepy speech on Saturday and I forgot (DOH!) to specifically thank Kate, Lisa & Nicole for all their hard work getting this shindig on its feet. I love you guys. Jakob and I are so grateful and a spectacular time was had by all. Bravissimo!

There's a lot of photos. To check 'em out, click here to visit Flickr.

Rawkin' Mohawkin

No, this is not my newborn. We still have 6 weeks to go people! This is my fashion model. Her name is Tarzana. She's named after the city in California, not "Tarzan of the Jungle." In fact, don't even bring Tarzan up to her. It's a sore subject.

Anywhoosit, Jakob purchased an adorable Superman onesie. (Which works for Supergirl, too!) I thought the look could only be complete with a knitted mohawk hat.



I took up knitting. You remember when knitting was deemed "cool" about three years ago? Well, I'm finally catching on. I really wanted to make something for my baby and it seemed like a hat would be pretty simple. I had some knitting needles and yarn buried in my craft closet. I put them into action. First, I knitted the orange cap. Then, I created a straight line of knotted dangling green & purple yarn. I fluffed it out with a hairbrush to give it a touch of spikey-punk-poofiness.



VOILA!

It Ain't All Gravy

Pregnancy is wonderful, except when it isn't.

I have anxiety about labor.

I went to my first Lamaze class on Monday night. I think it wigged me out. The instructor started the class by telling us to ignore all the delivery room horror stories that we've heard because every woman's experience is different. Then she spent the remainder of the class going over complications like meconium, preeclampsia, and placental abruption. It didn't help that Jakob and I were seated beneath the poster that diagramed an episiotomy.

I cry 8 times a day. I pee twice as many times as I cry.

My feet have grown a shoe size.

I feel like Violet Beauregard. I'm a colossal blueberry. I need Oompa Loompas to roll me to the Juicing Room and put me out of my misery.

I was waiting for the bus the other day and four little boys were at the bus stop. They were all about 10 years old. They were having a spitting contest. I wouldn't have cared except that they were spitting on folks waiting for the bus, like me. They were using words like, "bitch." It made me worry about being a crummy mom and having a brat for a kid.

I got up at 3:11am this morning to write an angry e-mail to the people at Target regarding my baby registry. Stuff keeps becoming "unavailable," or isn't being efficiently processed. I should've gone with 'Babies R Us.' Anyway, the clickity-clack of the computer keys awoke my sweet, kind, lovely husband. My patient, caring, attentive husband quietly got out of bed and shut the bedroom door so he could get a little shuteye. I can't tell you exactly why this sent me into a hysterical bitchy fit, but it did. I proceeded to yell at my charming, handsome, considerate husband for no good reason what-so-ever. And how does this half-awake, bewildered man respond? He coaxes me back into bed and rubs my tummy for over an hour as I whimper and eventually fuss myself to sleep. Saint Jakob.

Don't get me wrong. I'm blessed. I'm excited for this kid to pop out. But sometimes I feel like a big, whiny pod that has no control over my body or my feelings.

Whaaaaaaa. I can't even eat soft cheese! I LOVE soft cheese!!!

1977

This is a picture of my mom and me. Look at how BRAND NEW I am. Pudgy. No neck. Squinty-eyed. My mouth is shaped like a little bell. I'm freakin' adorable!

I've been looking at this photo trying to imagine that I'll be holding my own baby in just over two months.

Wow.

Jakob and I have found a song that we can both sing to my belly.
Loudon Wainwright wrote it while his wife Kate was pregnant with Rufus.
They sing it together on the album Attempted Mustache
It's called, "Dialated to Meet You."

We're wondering when you will arrive
We're wondering what you'll be
We're wondering if you'll be a 'her'
Or if you'll be a 'he'

Maybe you'll arrive today
Perhaps tomorrow night
We're hoping you won't hurt too much
And that you'll be alright.

Life has a few unpleasantries
We may as well confess
We suppose you'll cry a lot
And that you'll be a mess

There is one thing you should know well
On this there is no doubt
You cannot get inside again
Once you have come out

Even though there's trouble
Even though there's fuss
We really think you'll like it here
We hope that you like us.

GRRRRRR! Monster Box!

I've been working on some shadowboxes...



VOILA! The Monster Box! This is the first one I made. His name is "BOOSHOCKA!" The tongue springs forward against the front glass and you can see down his throat.



This green lovely is the next one I created. I named her, "GLAMOURIZZA!" Beautiful, ain't she?



There's a mirror in the rear of the box. When you peak in, it looks like YOU are in the monster's mouth.



Here's where I went a little nuts. This is "SYBILOBSTRA!" She's a monster within a monster within a monster within a monster.



I even put wee little flashlights in her eyes to make them glow firey red. That's right. Don't mess with Sybilobstra. She'll wreck ya!

To check out more shadowboxes & monsters, click here to visit Flickr.

Super DUPER Hero - El Preggo Grande!

LOOK! It's a Macy's Day Balloon! It's a Land-Wandering Manatee! It's the Stay Puft Marshmello Man!



NO! It's EL PREGGO GRANDE!



Able to laugh heartily in the face of swelling & bloating. HA HA HAAAAAA!



You poor kid. Your parents are so friggin' goofy.