Saturday, January 24, 2009
For the last two weeks we had been letting the babies fuss and cry until our "start time" of 6:30am, as long as it didn't get out of control. I guess your pediatrician was right Emily, that was all we needed to do...and of course ask the blog fairy.
Friday, January 23, 2009
It is not always the same child who gets off track, so I know that they CAN sleep in until at least 6:30am. It also doesn't matter what time they go to sleep the night before. The sweet babies take turns being the one who wakes up early. Each morning one baby will sleep in while the other takes on the responsibility of making noise, talking and then crying-until mom or dad decide that they can't take it any more and give in to the nagging alarm.
The rotating alarm clock responsibilities can start as early as 4:30am, but thankfully this is often a weak attempt, that only a mother can hear, that can be put on snooze at least for a little while. The stronger, louder and much more insistent alarm starts somewhere between 5:30am and 6:00am, those precious quite morning hours when I am finishing up my dreams and trying to squeeze in at least 6 hours of sleep.
This morning it was Max. The previous two days it has been Maya's responsibility. There have been less than a handful of days in the past eight plus months that I haven't been woken up to hair-raising sound of a crying child.
I can't really complain (and yet I do), the babies are sleeping much better than they did while on vacation- when they were waking up sometimes twice a night. At least they are sleeping through the night for the most part. But now that they are sleeping well at night I want more. I want that last hour or hour and a half. I would love to slowly wake up and a enjoy a few quite moments of peace before I get out of bed. Please sweet babies....give mommy a break. :)
Our two sweet babies showing us their innocent faces.
"Who me?? I would never want to disrupt your beauty rest mommy!"- Max
Do you really think you are in charge around here mom?- Maya
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thank you President Obama for seeing beyond the limitations we place upon ourselves and others, thank you for inspiring hope and asking for dedication and commitment. I pray that we can all rise to the challenge.
Praise song for the day
Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.
Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."
We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."
We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."
Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.
Inaugural poem recited by Elizabeth Alexander
At just a year old, poet Elizabeth Alexander was with her parents in the crowd on the National Mall when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. proclaimed, “I have a dream.” This week we came another step closer to that dream. At age 46, Alexander was in Washington D.C. for another historic moment—this time she had a front row seat.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Maritime Museum with my sister Aimee, her husband Matt and my nieces Emily and Paige.
It was an unsusually clear day for Los Angleles. We could even see the mountains.