Maya enjoying a Saturday morning snooze in our bed. 

A Press Conference to Make Us All Welcome the End of Press Conferences

Maya took down a couple bottles yesterday like a submarine engineer on overdue shoreleave. That amounts to a huge relief on my end because Sarah has a 12-hour call on Sunday and heads back to her regular clinical duties later in the week. So Maya and I are ready to fly on our own when necessary. There's something so satisfying about seeing her suck down a healthy meal and then crash out like a drunken goat - arms and legs all akimbo, face slackened and covered with the gluttonous overflow, eyes partially-closed as if in a trance. Maya still definitely prefers to get her meals straight from the source. But at least we know that once again she's willing to opt for the alternative when the need arises, as it still does every few hours like clockwork.

In a word, Bush's hotly-anticipated press conference last night was bunk. For this they got FOX to postpone a new episode of "The OC" and ruined all the "Will and Grace" cocktail hours in the Castro?!! Abyssmal. I tried to make the best of it - cracked a nice bottle of red and made up a tasty comfort-snacky dinner (our favorite tomato soup and 3 different kinds of insanely-tasty grilled cheese sandwiches). I prepped my shortlist of buzzwords to tally. I watched with interest the back-and-forth between the networks as to whether they'd actually broadcast the presser live, what with yesterday being the first night of May sweeps and all. And then. Bupkis. A big flat pancake of nothing-newness. A warmed-over fizzle from Dubya to open on energy policies and tepidly-reheated Social Security focus group pablum. Weak-ass questions from a zombified White House press corps. Dubya's signature unfunny insider banter with his poorly-nicknamed favorite flacks. Oceans of smirks. Oodles of odd turns of phrase, but still none really worth harping on. And then everyone except ABC and the cable nooz channels cut away before the final question to get to their money-makers. If I could have teleported anywhere, I would have loved to enter Rupert Murdoch's evil lair to hear his reaction to this massive time-suck after being guilted into carrying it live. But as it was, I still took the time to note a few stupid things said stupidly by Dubya. Here goes...

Cliche' Tally

• Iraq/i 14
• Terror/ist/ism 7
• "Noo-q-ler" 6
• Progress 10
• Hard Work 2

I didn't bother to note "freedom" or "democracy" or "Social Security" or any of the other expected themes. So this incomplete list is about as half-hearted as the sentiments that went into Dubya's answers. But I think the tallies are pretty accurate (note: both uses of "hard work" came within the first few minutes of the Q & A, which briefly had me pretty excited).

Other Random Stupid Dubya-isms

• When noting forms of energy available, only "safe, clean 'noo-q-ler' power" got the benefit of modifiers.
  
• Dubya said that "governing by polls" is like "a dog chasing 'er tail." Does he mean that such a "govern'er" will never catch "it" or that it takes a while to get to the actual tail? Because most dogs I've known can easily catch their tails after a few spins. And said dogs seem to enjoy the sensation of biting on it for a bit. So what exactly is Dubya trying to say there?
  
• When asked about Frist's disgusting inclusion in last weekend's "Dems are Against People of Faith" hate-fest, Dubya said that he can "only speak to myself." Twice.
  
• Others have noticed it, but I must ask when did "Pooty-Poot" become just plain "Vlad-a-mur" and how does Putin feel about having his stature reduced so completely to merely a first-name basis? Just imagine FDR calling Stalin "Joe" or Reagan calling Gorbachev "Mikey."
  
• "John Bolton's a blunt guy." The only red meat thrown to a hungry media machine. But that's like saying "the Moon's a big rock" or "guns makey big boom" - you can only boil down obvious crap so far.
• The standard mispronounciations - "con-sor-ti-um" and "pen-in-shu-la" along with the eternally grating "noo-q-ler" - repeated often to show Dubya's persistent state of mind.
• When talking about the aims of his education program, Dubya started with his belief in "simple objectives like literacy and math." OK, if simply having "math" is an aim, the Bushies have got that one covered. So there's some progress, I suppose.

Appropriately, my TiVo cut off the last minute or so of Dubya's final answer. Maybe he announced an historic initiative to eliminate fossil fuel dependence or cut overseas troop deployments or secure our borders. Maybe he promised to actually invite Democratic leaders to the White House again to discuss the impasses reached in his first 100 days of this lame-duck term. Maybe he made a stupid joke about Major League Baseball. I guess I'll never know. And, to be honest, I couldn't care less. After all, Jeff/JD Gannon/Guckert's on Bill Maher's show tonight. Now THERE's something worth watching. Rock on.

Maya shows her excitement when told that Dubya's holding a primetime newsconference. 

Two Months Old and Counting

Maya's two month birthday was yesterday. Two months that both sped by and elongated each day considerably. Some signposts have been passed - Maya sleeps well through much of the night with usually one feeding in the early hours of the day, she's put on the pounds like a lit'l Kirstie Alley without any of the career-tarnishing ridicule, she smiles and loudly fills diapers and holds her head up and digs bathtime and makes loads of noise everywhere in between. Like like all new 'rents, we think she's gorgeous and brilliant. The challenges in the weeks ahead will be considerable. Sarah heads back to her clinical responsibilities later next week. After an early adoption of the bottle, Maya's shown some recent disdain for the non-boob feeding method which will need to be remedied. And there are certain to be timing issues we've not even begun to ponder. Maya seems ready for whatever's coming down the pike, so we'll just need to follow suit. Rest assured that we'll keep the running commentary updated herein.

Big, big news day otherwise. Lots of stories will surely get lost in the mix.

The Iraqi Cabinet has been chosen, and the delay in naming them is only surpassed in appalling gaps left for the most important jobs. Ahmad Chalabi is yet again given a position of power - the oil minister, fer chrissakes. Hard to believe that he'd be the phoenix rising from the ashes he's time and time again proven himself to be. In distinctly opposite fashion, Former HeadLacky Ayad Allawi got all pissy and walked out of the government because the Shiites didn't fold to his demands for a handful of ministers and a vice prez from his LackyParty. Too early to tell how this will be received by the Iraqis themselves. But you can bet that the Bushies will take full credit for the partial list.

The Daily Show showed yet another singularly brilliant juxtaposition during their moment of Zen last night - after showing Dubya make his ridiculous energy policy speech including the quote that we need to reduce our dependence on foreign sources of oil they cut to the widely circulated video of Dubya and Saudi Arabia's Crown Prince walking hand-in-hand through the bluebonnets in Crawford. Hypocrisy like that just can't be topped by comedy, but in this case it added extra loft to the silliness.

Tom DeLay's goose increasingly looks like it's cooking. Sure, the Ethics Committee will now have to look into his problems. Sure, he's getting pissy with the crowd of cameras following him around. But when media orgs start scrutinizing the cigars he's smoking like TIME has done with a Cuban he's seen toking in Israel way back in 2003, you know the floodgates of retribution are opening. Good riddance. Also, the NYTimes published an interesting take on the "money laundering" (my quotes added) from his PAC (Americans for a Republican Majority) to House Republicans that then donated money back to DeLay's legal defense fund. $200K came back, amounting to a sizable skimming of funds. Hard to prove outright that the intent was to pull money from his PAC and push it into his defense fund. But like just about everything else in DeLay's orbit of influence, it smells like somebody stepped in something.

Today's the one-year anniversary of the Abu Gharib scandal coming to light thanks to Dan Rather and "60 Minutes 2" broadcasting a story that included the now-famous photos of Lyndie England and her chums. In honor of that anniversary, the Army's planning to release a new manual that no longer condones torture. I'm sure THAT will satisfy the World community.

In Wisconsin news, after last mentioning the then-First Place New Brew Crew Milwaukee's fallen to Last Place in their Division. After starting 5-3, they went 2-10. So the dream may well be over. But the good news from my home state is that the woman who won the Ms. Wheelchair Wisconsin competition only to be shamed with the fact that she could actually stand under her own power has claimed a new title. Ms. disAbility International (their spelling, not mine). Sounds like a promotion, albeit a strange mixed-case one.

Dubya's holding a prime-time news conference tonight for the first time in over a year. So the need for damage control for the Bushies has reached Orange Alert. Apparently Dubya wants to start off by expanding on the terrible energy initiatives he announced yesterday, but I can't wait to see where the questioning goes from there. I'll be posting my blow-by-blow reactions after the fact, so please check back. Rock on.

Maya adds evidence to the charge that her future interests are being manipulated through early encouragement.

Seeing what's important...

If this was a different time and a different country (such as the one we lived in pre-9/11) the news that our search for WMDs in Iraq is officially over would surely merit mega-headlines. As it is, though, you can hardly find a peep about it in today's news. This post-9/11 age has so completely buried concern for displaying the truth that the posting Monday evening of a 92-page report addendum by the CIA's Iraq Survey Group will be little more than yet another barrel of dread over the dam. Can you imagine any other time in our history when Americans would barely shrug when confronted with the news that our reason for a pre-conceived, unilateral War turned out to be false? The World is always filled with ugly, destructive, unjust stories of power being used by the few to hurt the far-more-many. The daily turf battles in our nation's capital are alarmingly gross. The media seems only to want stories of fallen celebrities or evil child murderers to distract attention away from the rot and inequity all around our communities. But the end of the WMD "search" should somehow reach a different level when you look at the tally that is rapidly approaching 1600 dead Americans over there, well over 10,000 young bodies so terribly injured as to alter those lives forever, over $300B and counting in appropriations poured down that sandy money pit, not to mention the unaddressed death and destruction on the Iraqi side of the ledger. All I can do is keep on reading the news, hoping that someday somehow the rest of this country will start to call for accountability from the Bushies and their stalwarts in Congress. Freedom is NOT on the march. Falseness and fear of admitting our Nation's mistakes have trod us all deeper into the muck...

Luckily just as I was further descending into a diatribe, Maya got fussy and wanted some attention. I picked her up from her bouncey chair and soon enough she'd barfed all over my shoulder. Blech. And now she's raising holy hell after being returned to the chair. News stories always raise my temperature when I see editorial and political judgments outweighing what I see as the importance of the story. But when you've got an unhappy child relying on you to make the world "all better" the rest seems rather unimportant. As I've hunt-and-pecked these last few sentences with Maya cradled in one arm, she's fallen asleep. In that, I suppose, I've accomplished something this mid-morning. Hope all's well for y'all otherwise.

The Saudis apparently found an American export they're interested in during the Crown Prince's most recent visit to Crawford, TX (note: Sarah thought my first caption suggestion was a bit too distasteful...make your own joke using "drilling" or "exploration" or some derivation).

The church where the wedding was held - notice the "leave a dime for your time" parking donations hitching post. 

Maya reacts to the news of what's actually in a "Rocky Mountain oyster." 

One of the historic churches in Chappell Hill - apparently they pray to Greg Allman as their savior. 

Sarah shows how to nurse Maya, "Texas style."  

After a smooth as silk trip to Chappell Hill, Maya settles in at our B&B. 

Catching up on the weekend's audio posts

The audio posts from our visit to the Heart of Texas got wrongly filed on my old blog - if you checked here with the expectation that I'd give a running commentary, my apologies. But I've moved them here collectively in chronilogical order starting with a post from Friday morning while still in San Francisco Airport.

Then this post went up just after the beginning of the reception in lovely little Chappell Hill, TX.

The morning after the wedding as we began to pack up things at our B&B, I put up the following post.

And finally, this one capped the mad dash we made to Houston to catch our flight.

Maya works on her "gas" issue. 

A challenge or two...

Seemingly out of the blue, Maya got sick yesterday. Not crazy, zoned-out sick. More accurately, she got gas yesterday. Bitchiness-inducing gas. But for a less-than-8-week-old, gas can be a major drag. Being young 'rents, we didn't know what was really wrong but we could surely tell by early afternoon that her discomfort needed a professional once-over. So we called our pediatrician's office and they got us in for a quickie appointment in the later afternoon. Luckily, we saw an old sage pediatrician (not our usual, very-competent doc) and he did a once over that included tapping on Maya's abdomen. The hollow sound that resulted was a telltale sign of gas - probably something Sarah ate that got passed on in her breast milk. We were deemed fine to travel, and given folksy advice on how to best clear her air, so to speak. So we started giving Maya "gripe water" (love the name), have been doing some massage, and letting her kick like a junior high soccer practice to try and move things along. It wouldn't matter much, but we're leaving for the airport to head to Chappell Hill, TX in less than an hour. To make matters even more challenging, now I'm sick, too. Just a cold, but I felt it coming on yesterday afternoon and now it's most assuredly here. Are we insane for travelling? Probably. But what's life without a challenge or 3.

So check back over the weekend for updates - I'm not bringing a laptop so my posts will be limited to audioblogging. Wish us luck. Rock on.

Naps: Wherefore art thou?

Maya's largely abandoned the traditional definition of "naps" while still holding true to an amazing nighttime sleeping schedule (a nice 7-ish hour stretch, a feeding, then a 3-ish hour more stint before her morning suck-fest). And after we lost part of the fleece lining for her car-seat in the course of gate-checking her stroller/car-seat, she's been a smidge cranky on her walks in Golden Gate Park the past two mornings. We're planning to pick up a few travel items today including a replacement fleece-lining. But we still are wondering...should we be worried that she's only really napping when we hold her and watch TiVo'd episodes of "Deadwood" or "Molto Mario"? Enquiring minds want to know.

I'm overdue on giving a not-entirely-original rundown of the stories that have given me "abyssmal news intestinal distress" or ANID recently. So before we load up and head for the blue bonnet-festooned glory that is Chappell Hill, TX supa-early tomorrow morning, the following are the thoughts that I hope to purge before hoping we have as good of luck as we did in our travels with Maya to Montreal last weekend.

This Week's ANID Remedy List (take a shot, and hope the discomfort passes)

• Ann Coulter's cover piece in "TIME" magazine. The questions of publishing this "7 years late" as noted by Wonkette are still unanswered. Personally, I believe that Ann's about as funny as Ray Romano (never watched his show, naver loved Raymond).
  
• George Voinovich showing some backbone, instead of the supposed moderates on the Senate Foreign Policy Committee. And what did he get in return? An early and unbelievably poorly-worded attack ad from a bunch of crazies that call themselves "Move America Forward" dot org. But now Chaffee and Hagel are looking like they'll scuttle the Bolton nomination. How nutsy is Washington when the only way a jerk who has no bizness even visiting the U.N. is only tripped up by a single Senator that no one thought would even attend the Committee meeting that ended up being the best theatre of the Spring?
  
• Pope Benedict XVI. Nazi youth? Conservative throwback? Way too old? All of the above, and yet still the favorite in most seminaries' office pools. What does that say about the embrace of modernism of the Roman Catholics. No question - just a rhetorical shrug that leaves me wondering why this crap had to be covered like a Moon landing by the cable networks.
• The Republicans in the Senate continue to push the "nuclear option." Never since the days of the Cuban Missile Crisis or the Three Mile Island disaster has the word "nuclear" appeared as often in press reports.
  
• The stock markets continue to tank (although today's rallies are showing some promise) while Dubya continues to push for privatization accounts to further ruin Social Security. In politics, timing is everything.

Maya's raising holy hell so I'd better give this a rest for a while. Hopefully I'll add more soonish.

Maya feels great being back home after her first trip, as do her relieved 'rents. 

But when told she only has 3 days until we load up and head to TX, Maya seems a bit testy (notice the left-hand salute). 

Pushing Maya's limits

We've got the typical bundle of things to pull together before we head to the airport at noon, so I don't expect to have any time to explore Montreal with Maya further this morning. Yesterday afternoon, I took Maya on a power walk through McGill's campus and up to Parc Mont Royal. More "power" than I'd intended, after taking a wrong turn in the park and heading up well away from the desired city overlook that everyone raves about. After we'd gone 3.5KM the wrong way, I cut the cord and started back down for the hotel. Heading down Rue de Peel I began to feel like an especially irresponsible 'rent - the hill is as steep as any in Montreal and our stroller has no anchor for Maya to heave if I were to stumble and lose my grip. But we made it down okey-fine, and got back to the hotel after just under 2 hours. Maya never made a peep until I keyed the door on our room. Freakish. Then we got through a feeding with Sarah and headed to dinner with a hearty group of doctor-types at a great bistro - Au Petit Extra (very much worth the trip, very marginally-bilingual waitstaff, c'est magnifique!). Maya bitched a bit, but stuck to the domestic white and got through dinner just the same. By the time we tried to settle in for the night, she was more wound up than a world-record ball of twine. She's quite the little traveller, but a return to normalcy in SF will be a welcome "change." At least until Friday when we head to Texas for a wedding.

One tidbit that I've found worth mentioning about our hotel - the Fairmont Queen Elizabeth. It was here in room 1742 that John Lennon and Yoko staged their "bed in for peace" back in 1969. I'm sure their room was much bigger than ours. Or maybe having the crib really cuts down on space. Nice place, but I'd suggest going a bit hipper if you're coming to Montreal anytime soon.

I'm reminded of a Mark Twain line I read about his impressions of Montreal. To paraphrase, "you can't throw a brick without breaking a church window." Things were pretty different back in the 1880s. But we do have a big cathedral right outside our window. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Gotta run. Check back tomorrow for some final Montreal thoughts. Rock on.

Maya hasn't been paying much attention to her fortune recently.

Michael Jackson: "Coupable ou non coupable?"

Much of what we've managed to do with Maya up here in the Le Great White Norte falls into two catagories - Sarah taking her into sessions at her medical conference and me taking her out walking around Downtown. Almost without exception she's been a manageable conference participant and there are always loads of people willing to "take her" from Sarah for a bit of respite. Out in the world, Maya's doing what she usually does in her stroller - kickin' back and snoozin' away so long as we're moving. Street life in Montreal is like any downtown amalgam of bizness-clones, retail-slaves, tourist-roadblocks and the homeless (although here, even the homeless are bilingual). Mix in the fact that McGill University is very much in the vicinity and injecting freshish-fratish foolishness - that's what I see of the Downtowny mix around Rue Ste. Catherine. A bit later Maya and I are planning another excursion to venture a bit farther afield.

While entertaining Maya a bit earlier as Sarah snuck in a quick workout, I watched the most depressing example of American entertainment pollution I've seen flow this direction thus far - a replay of the E!Network's "Michael Jackson Trial" re-enactment show. If you haven't seen it in English, your soul may still be intact. But if you're like me, you've gotten used to the frightening American "legal commentators" that attempt to do just that during breaks in the action - they comment on the so-called "legal aspects" of the case, usually with boundless self-promotion in mind. Well, on what appears to be a cheapo version of VH1 (MusiMix), they've replaced those Americans with two rather doughy French-speaking chaps while the re-enactments still play in English without subtitles. I think I got the jist of what they were saying. "Jesus juice" apparently has no French translation. Boy, do I need to get outside.

Two of today's greasier advances on DC happy-hour chatter are the Ralph Reed rundown in the NYTimes and the "Bolton's an even bigger prick than previously thought" story in the WashingtonPost. The Ralph Reed-Jack Abramoff connection isn't entirely new reporting (I mentioned it back in February, for those of you keeping score at home). But it does deliver a bigger smack-down than previously seen for the often kid-gloves-treated Ralph "Body Bag" Reed. And as far as Bolton's concerned - we'll see tomorrow whether this adds any fuel to the fire. It all really comes down to Lincoln Chaffee - if he votes in favor of the nomination in Committee, the horse is outta the barn for good.

Maya's back from her afternoon scientific session. Time for some mindless strolling. More pics soon, I promise.

Derek and Jennie made the trip up to Montreal from Burlington so that their son, Baxter, could size up Maya. Hubba, hubba. 

Baxter considers a fruity fellow delivered from the kitchen at Chez Cora. 

Maya eats and sleeps her way to Canada

We're pleasantly now able to say that Maya's quite the agreeable travelling companion. Yesterday's jaunt to Montreal could have sucked like a $300 vacuum - very early rush to the airport only to be met with a sizable delay, a resulting full-to-bursting flight of semi-deranged passengers, a diminished but still longish layover in Chicago, a teenie plane in which we occupied the last, immovable row of seats, and then going through Canadian customs (at which time that brick of hash I'd forgotten hiding in my rectum suddenly became uncomfortable). But through it all, Maya ate and snoozed and generally charmed the unruly masses all around us. So I take from this a few primary lessons. First of all, carrying an adorable baby while travelling is like carrying a puppy with a clever human-ish outfit - people reach out to pet him/her/it with a dreamy, unconscious need. And let's not forget, most people are yucky and probably haven't washed their hands since Clinton was in the White House. After mistakenly letting a TSA metal detector guard touch Maya, I developed the yank-away-and-politely-scold reaction I should have practiced before heading to the airport. I've got it down cold now, so no more worries on that front. Secondly, even the surliest airport staff treat you like a prom queen with a broken heel when they see you toting a cute baby (truth be told, we purposely dressed her in a pink hippos outfit we hoped might garner such unusual kindness). Toothy smiles, offers of an extra hand whenever possible, polite parting of the crowds usually angling for the quickest route to whatever aim is before them. Very nice. If I could change one thing, I'd print up a t-shirt for Maya that listed her age ("I'm 7 Weeks Old and, yes, I'm a girl!)" to save having to repeatedly answer the only question most folks can think to ask. Maybe when we head to Texas next weekend for a wedding I'll give that a shot.

The only time Maya really showed any discomfort was when we'd hit the curb outside the Montreal airport to grab a taxi. Having Sarah's boobs suddenly off-limits when we started our journey downtown made no sense to Maya. So she did what babies do when denied their constitutional rights and began to wail. Nothing blood-curdling, but surely noticable to us and our skittish driver. As we worked to calm her down, our driver sped up. Substantially. It made for a fun ride. In short order we were in our hotel room, Maya was having the domestic white, and some dear friends from Vermont arrived to join us for dinner in the hotel's bistro.

Maya's currently playing on the bed in her funky French baby outfit (combined with bib and non-matching socks she looks like a color-blind parent dressed her in the dark). After Sarah takes a break and comes up for a feeding, we'll head out for another walk around downtown Montreal. We've already been out to a kitschy, killer brunch spot - Chez Cora, which should be on all your short-lists. Much, much more to explore. Please check back, and I promise we'll keep you updated.

Maya offers little complaint about United's seat-sizing or non-existent (adult) food service on our way to Montreal.

Maya finds yet another comfy shoulder on Aunt Katie. 

Aunt Katie marvels at how much Maya's grown. And the fact that her 'rents choose to dress her in the occasional pillowcase.

Maya's First Run For the (Other) Border

Yesterday was Maya's one-month-ish check-up with her pediatrician. Sarah had class so I took sole charge of the shlepping. As with so many of her out-o'-the-House adventures, Maya was as calm and uneventfully nice as surf season in Northern Wisconsin. All minor concerns that we as new parents brought up as questions were pleasantly dismissed as hooey-like non-issues. And when the pediatrician (Laurie) first laid eyes on Maya, her reaction said all that needed to be said - "wow, what a pudgy baby!" The tale of the tape - Maya gained 3 lbs. 4 oz. since her first visit, meaning she now tips the scales at 11 lbs. and half an ounce. She also grew to 22 and a half inches long putting her at the 90th percentile in terms of height which allows her to carry her newly-earned bulk well. Laurie validated our opinions that Maya's a frisky, vocal youngin' and congratulated us on what I reported for her sleeping schedule. In other words, Maya's a studly little puppy, growing like a weed with lots of energy and mounds of delightfully stinky diapers left in her wake.

The Senate Foreign Relations Committee delayed until Tuesday a vote on John Bolton because the Dems are trying to get more crackin' testimony from intelligence analysts that felt pressured by Mr. KissUp-KickDown. But there are some pretty big cracks in the Dems resolve already - Dick Durbin caved yesterday, it seems. There's talk of a filibuster, but that might just play into Frist's hands in his planning to push for the "nuclear option." As much as I hate to say it, I think that Dems should back off if Bolton gets Chaffee's vote and squeaks by with a 10-8 Committee approval. Save your powder for the bigger fight. Let Frist go forward with his moronic plan which might just further split his Party (McCain's already said he'll vote against the rule change to eliminate the filibuster). If Frist does, it should blow up in his face and greatly tarnish his plans for '08 (because that's what this is all about for "Please Call Me Doctor Senator" Frist, after all). On that note, the NYTimes continues with their "liberal conspiracy" efforts by reporting that Frist will be taking part in a telecast by Christian Conservatives meant to show that Dems are "against people of faith" when they block Dubya's judicial nominees. Just the most recent example of how running for Prez sure is "hard work." Massively hypocritical work, too.

The New Brew Crew continues to play decent ball. Hell, what am I saying...they're in Frickin' First Place in their Division with the second best record in the National League! Of course they're only 5-3 with a big series against the Cards on deck for this weekend. But let me enjoy these moments before reality begins to sink in.

Plenty of other news to comment on, but that will need to come a bit later. Maya's Aunt Katie and Uncle-to-be John are in town from New Jersey and there's fun to be had in the near term. And then tomorrow Sarah and I have a BIG adventure to undertake - we're taking Maya on her first trip! To Canada, no less. Montreal, to be precise. Sarah's got a conference and we'll have the chance to see some friends from Vermont who are cool enough to venture cross the border to meet us there. Just a few days, but a substantial adventure for Maya nonetheless. We spent a bit of time in Montreal pre-Maya when be lived in Burlington, but I love having the chance to head back to build on the little I've learned of that decidedly-European-feeling city. We'll be updating the blog with a mini-Canadian travelouge, so please check back. Hope your own travels or couch potato-ness this weekend is equally exciting.

Oh, and on the subject of border crossings, someone apparently told Dubya that the U.S. was prepping to require passports for trips to Canada and Mexico. His response after supposedly "reading it in the papers" (which I didn't think he did) was to remark "what's going on here?" Um, you signed the law, Mr. Prezidunt. May I suggest having someone read it next time before handing you the fancy pens.

Maya considers Daddy's advice on how best to impress the pediatrician. 

Maya helps Sarah catch up on some emails. 

We were out of Birthday candles, but Maya nonetheless watched attentively as Mommy blew out a last-minute replacement.

Sarah's Birthday cake - made with love and little artistic mastery. 

Maya's morning head.