Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Mission To Mars

I have been convinced that we need more children.


I think it went like this.  I said emphatically that I didn't want any more children.  Actually, I think I said I didn't want any children at all, and then I had two and didn't sleep for three months and then said I wanted someone to chop my penis off.  

But then I came up with a name.

Being a writer, which is how we've decided to label my particular mix of napping and checking my email, words are of great importance to me.  Not all words.  I don't like the long ones.  Or any of the ones that start with C, but certain words, and especially names, have a great impact on me.

For instance, I recently realized that I could save time and confusion by just combining the twins' nicknames, Nixie and Ripples, into Nipples.  I would say that this has increased the number of times I address the girls by name, or at least by single unified nickname, at least a hundredfold.  Good morning Nipples.  Nap time Nipples.  Nipples, stop eating Nipples' hair.  I eagerly await the days when they play in the neighborhood and I can stand on the front porch and scream, DINNER NIPPLES!

But I digress.  As excited as I was about the Nipples breakthrough, it didn't make me feel compelled to add another human to the global pile.  That happened when the metal slot wheels all hit on Mars.

I should briefly point out that really, its Nipples that's really driving this train.  At this point they're like little salespeople for the very idea of babies.  They laugh, sleep, and pretty much stay where you put them, which is a pretty compelling pitch for getting all Mormon with your numbers.  Once they start walking and whining and telling me to get a job, I'm sure they'll seem more like 20 pound vasectomy advertisements, which is why their mother is eager to move before we regain our senses.

Anyway, all of this was on the table when I hit on Mars.  At first I was convinced that Mars was a boy name and so I was only interested if I could be sure we'd have a boy.  I looked into the various options and presented them, pointing out that the leading option (microsort) was used all the time to control livestock populations and available for humans with just a short trip to New Jersey.  Amy did not share my enthusiasm for cutting edge science.

I did some soul searching and within days realized that I didn't so much want a boy as I wanted a Mars, and as it turned out, Mars was obviously also an awesome name for a girl and so the whole New Jersey cow impregnation route was just a red herring.  I said this to Amy.  That we didn't need cow science to make a baby and that Mars was totally a great girl name.  She said that she wasn't really aware that it was a name for a human, boy or girl.  But all great things seem appalling and wrong at first, and I knew the greatness of Mars would eventually sink in (although I have to say, Nipples is really not catching on with her).  Lawyers were called, deals negotiated, agreements reached.  Bottom line, we're making a Mars.

As we really have no room for more people in this house, at present the plan is to let Mars live in the backyard and hopefully be raised by some sort of neighborhood animal.  Mostly we've got cats and squirrels running around, so it's a safe bet that he/she will pick up some wicked tree skills.  Amy feels uncertain about this and is suddenly all about finding a house and letting the baby live inside.  I say with resume padding and college admissions getting tougher all the time, 'raised by cats/have large nut collection' would look pretty compelling on an application.  

But she has a higher IQ and tends to outsmart me, so we'll probably do it her way.




p.s.  Seriously, if I have more kids than adults in my house, don't really like to drink, and dig board games, can I at least qualify for some sort of honorary Mormon status?  I'm not really into the church part, but if it comes with a lift pass I'd really like to get more info.

p.p.s  You may have noticed the Twitter feed now on the right, because it's important that we all make all of our thoughts available to everyone at all times.  Now you won't have to wonder, you'll know when I'm using the word Nipples.


6 comments:

the dahle family said...

We'll give you honorary status, I just don't know if we can swing the lift pass deal though. Maybe once we move back to a place where there is something larger that the trash dump to ski on we can work you onto our family pass since you're an honorary member now.

Michael said...

Does the agreement include supplemental names in case, you know, you hit the mormon jackpot and attract TV producers to create the new show called "Kyle and Amy Plus 8"?

Obviously, #8 would be Eight, but what about 4-7?

All very amusing revelations nonetheless. Best to tackle this before the twins turn 3.

The ABs said...

We'd like to point out that Mars is the Roman god of war. Just thought you should know that before you let him or her near your Nipples.

MISTY and CO... said...

i cannot stop laughing about your nipples or your upcoming space adventure. squirrels, however, are unacceptable nannies!

found your blog on celena's. BIG fan.

brooke said...

I have been stalking your blog for a while now. Thanks to Celena's blog. My husband has been working with Erykah Badu lately and in case you haven't heard yet, she has a sweet little girl named Mars. Tell Amy that I said "hello"!

Dawn Farias said...

This was so funny!! Thank you.

 
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