Art Nomad’s Blog

Miranda went into labor Tuesday morning, and after the last minute frantic rushing around the apartment, we headed off to the hospital, and the kids headed off to grandma's house.  We arrived at the hospital around 10 am.Our first two children only required three or four hours of labor so I thought that we would be holding our baby early in the afternoon.

Lunchtime came, and my wife and the nurses chased me off to find some food.  I ate and returned to my wife's side where we waited, and waited, and waited.  (Well I waited, she admittedly, had a slightly more difficult time than I.) Dinner time came and went, and like a fool I thought: "Can't be that much longer, I'll just eat later."

Ten o'clock. Midnight. We went through three shifts of nurses, that day/night/morning.  2 am, Miranda and I are both exhausted, (again, she much more than I).  The newest nurse and I are sitting on opposite sides of the hospital bed encouraging, and supporting my wife.  At this point she would have a really strong contraction for a minute or two, the immeadatly begin snoring between them.  The nurse and I would laugh, (only when my wife was asleep of course), this was one bull-headed baby! 

Every nurse that made a prediction insisted it would be a girl, due to the faster heart rate and stubborn nature of the child.  I said if I were the baby, I wouldn't want to come yet either, it's just too darn cold outside!  The newest member of our family was finally born this morning around 3 o'clock.

A healthy baby boy!
Ezra Justus
8 lbs. 5 oz.

My wife is happy that the baby is out of her tummy and is recovering quite nicely.  My oldest son and daughter love their new little brother to death.  I will post some pictures, hopefully by the end of the week or this weekend, depending on when I get some time. 

Newborn induced insomnia here I come!

It's almost impossible for me to do many creative things with two kids running around my house.  I try to write as often as I can but it's hard to focus when the kids cry or throw toys at your head.  By the time they go to bed I'm tired too, and my motivation level is dragging on the ground.  However, my family comes first, so I will plan on doing a crap load of artistic projects when they get older. 

Unless I get creative constipation...

I made the mistake of suggesting to my sister (who is now away at college) that we e-mail writings back and forth to encourage ourselves to keep writing.  I've decided to post anything worth sharing on here, perhaps increasing my potential audience I will be motivated to keep at it.  In theory I will also write higher quality stuff as well.

Like so many other people in the world, I've been working on various stories and poetry projects since I could hold a pen.  Unfortunately my handwriting rarely qualifies as legible; which is why they created the computer.  Now I can share my thoughts, and much to their chagrin, other people can read them!  Some day, perhaps when my kids move out of the house and I have time when their isn't yelling, crying, or pooping happening every ten minutes, I will actually publish a novel or some such self-gratifying nonsense.  Until then, I'll consider all the detours of life as inspiration for future stories.

Feel free to post your post encouragements, topic suggestions, and comments. 

This isn't a recording studio: feedback is good!

Today I woke up at 5AM, put on my work clothes, and went out to my car to head off to work like I do every morning.  What do I find but some drunk kid passed out in the driver's seat of my car.  I opened my door and asked him if he needed a ride somewhere.

"I'm staying right here.  I'm too drunk"
Obviously.
"You can't stay here," I said, "This is my car."
"No it's my car, I'm staying right here"  the drunk guy insisted.
"No, it's my car, and I have to go to work" I said, wondering how to get rid of him, short of dumping him in the snowbank.
"No, it's my car, these are all my cars" he exclaimed, gesturing to the empty parking lot.
"Oh, I see..." I said, closing the door, realizing that this conversation was going nowhere.

I live in a small town, where the cops only work during the day.  (Seriously who needs the cops during the day, they should be on at night when the crime really happens!)  So I had to call 911 to get a cop to come and pick up the drunk.  I would have just pulled the guy out, but I was worried he might actually have a car somewhere and decide to drive off, which he definitely wasn't in any shape to do.

I called 911 and the operator couldn't hear me, bad reception or something I suppose.  So I'm running around the parking lot saying "Can you hear me now?  Can you hear me now?" 
Eventually she did.

This is the story of the man who called the operator, who send the policeman, who picked up the drunk, that slept in the car that Jack built...

Er, something like that.

Farmer caught his cow in hen house, eating chickens. 

The Zombie apocalypse is upon us! 
Grab your shotgun and head for the nearest mall...
I'll just sit tight out here in the middle of nowhere, the horde can eat you first.