Is It Early or Late?

Here I am and the clock on the computer says that's it 3:47 am. Jacob woke up about a quarter after 2. Lesley was kind enough to get him out of his room, lay him in bed with us and feed him a bottle. After chugging his bottle, he decided to lay in bed with us and discuss his day's itinerary. He's got a lot going on today; the kid would not be quiet.

He should have a lot going on today. It's the day before his first birthday.

He said he was really excited about going to school today because they're going to have his birthday party. He said he hopes he gets lots of presents from his classmates. I told him that I didn't think his classmates were going to bring him any presents. I said it would more likely be just a cupcake party with some good music. He thought for a minute, and then said that would be all right. He said he's already gotten some good presents from some friends and he'll get enough from the family party this weekend.

I speak fluent baby.

He finally fell back asleep around 3:00, but by then I was so awake from listening to his babble and having him slobber on my face that I couldn't go back to sleep. So, here I am drinking some orange juice and reflecting on how a little ball of fat and bones can so easily take over my bed and my life.

One year old.

Tomorrow.

Amazing.

I will never be the same as I was on November 30, 2006. On December 1, "all was changed, changed utterly. A terrible beauty was born."

Terrible in the sense that my heart will never, ever be inside my body again. I have become so completely vulnerable. I now fear what is worse than death; a living death without my son.

I don't need to explain the beauty of it. I mean, look at him:

Anyway, I just got the low battery warning on the laptop, so that's it for now. Besides, I really don't know that I can say much more than what I've said.

Not Much Going On

So here's some recent pictures:

Some time ago I realized the truth in the fact that the only real problem I have in my life is me. Once I figured that out, honest to God, my stress disappeared.

Something to think about.

Poem of the Week: for Veteran's Day

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae
Written in 1915

Show 'Em You're a Tiger