Saturday, September 22, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
If you had one thing to say to African-American readers of GQ, what would you say?-- GQ&A with Denzel Washington, via ONTD
Take responsibility. One of the things that saddens me the most about my people is fathers that don't take care of their sons and daughters. And you can't blame that on The Man or getting frisked. Take responsibility. Look in the mirror and say, "What can I do better?" There is opportunity; you can make it. Whatever it is that you choose, be the best at it. You have an African-American president. You can do it. But take responsibility. Put your slippers way under your bed so when you get up in the morning, you have to get on your knees to find them. And while you're down there, start your day with prayer. Ask for wisdom. Ask for understanding. I'm not telling you what religion to be, but work on your spirit. You know, mind, body, and spirit. Imagine—work the brain muscle. Keep the body in tune—it's your temple. All things in moderation. Continue to search. That's the best part of life for me—continue to try to be the best man.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
After two days of waking up after every sleep cycle at night (every 60 minutes UGH), the kid is randomly back to sleeping 3 hours in her bassinet. I also cut the tip of her right index finger trying to trim her nails, and nearly cried as much as she did. Whit wanted to put a band-aid on her finger, which would have been high comedy.
Monday, September 3, 2012
You are one month old today, and it is crazy to me that it's been that long. When you first arrived, it felt like each day was creeping along, because I was so anxious and scared that I was messing up.
[Linnea, this is in no way a reflection of you, but merely my fears of doing right by you coming to the forefront].
The last week or so, however, has been flying by.
Things you have done so far:
- Met your grandmother Nordis.
- Met your grandfather Alonzo and grandmother Kyoko.
- Went with me on various errands and appointments.
- Gone through approximately 220 diapers.
- Rolled over onto your back because you were so upset about tummy time.
- Your activity mat.
- Eskimo kisses.
- Being in the Moby wrap.
- Being rocked, bounced, driven, or experiencing some other type of movement.
- Being swaddled (although you fought it initially).
- Falling asleep on people (as I'm writing this, you are asleep on my chest).
- Getting your hair washed.
You are super strong; you've been able to arch your back since birth, and can push off with your legs. After we wash your hair (which you HATE), it dries and winds up looking like a cockatiel's crest. You fight sleeping, but grudgingly succumb after some coaxing (your eyes close when I stroke your forehead). You used to nurse to sleep, but now you rarely do; you prefer to be swaddled and bounced. This takes at least 15 minutes because despite your exhaustion, you would rather look around, your eyes dark and shiny. You sleep long stretches in the evening, and sometimes so soundly that I put my hand on your chest to make sure you're still breathing. You hardly ever cry unless you're hungry. You have a cleft in your chin.
I am looking forward to seeing how your personality develops, what kind of kid you'll be, and what kind of mother I'll be.