Because I'm a paranoid parent, I've always refrained from using my kid's name in print. I know a lot of writers do it. I understand that the Bogeyman isn't going to come and grab my son the minute it learns his name, but something about it makes me squirrelly. But after a year and a half of plunking down pet names (Baby, Baby Boy, The Boy, The Toddler, The Kid) I'm running out of steam. So I've decided to give the kid a pseudonym - "Owen". I thought about going all Celebrity Baby and calling him "Siddhartha" or "Cerulean" (two names I've actually heard on the playground) but I've always liked Owen, so we'll go with that.
Owen has recently started climbing on my lap when I'm trying to pee. Needless to say, not a fan. FOR THE RECORD, we do not leave bathroom doors open willy-nilly around here but when it's just me and the kid there aren't many other choices. At first I hoped he was expressing interest in potty training but I think it's more an expression of READ TO ME NOW. Owen is mellow about most things but when he gets ahold of an I Spy book, that's it. No sleep 'till Brooklyn - or 'till we've found every last mask that's dark blue. No matter what else might be going on at that moment.
Anybody else deal with this? Anyone?
In other news, sold a story to Babble.com yesterday which I'm pretty psyched about. It's for their Bad Parent column (which you should totally check out. Good reads) and it'll be running in September, along with the first of my Self pieces. (Ahem.) Bust and Time Out New York Kids have also expressed interest in some pitches so I've been busily crossing stuff. (Fingers, toes... Feel free to join me.) I know it's bad form to crow but it's just so ridiculously exciting and validating. Eventually I hope to reach a point where assignments are the norm and I can just celebrate publishing dates (or not say anything at all, for ultimate coolness). I suspect it'll be awhile.