Yosemite has ROCKS! Or so the kids say.

Before I get into our weekend in Yosemite, I must give a brief comment or two on the Bushies' PR offensive this week in defense of their utterly illegal NSA spying program. Plainly, they're worried. So they've come out now with guns a blazin' in hopes of a public embrace of their overstepping. No one does staged bunk better than these folks. But I truly, COMPLETELY, believe they're screwed on this one. Why? We've got none of the details of the extent of the NSA perview aside from the sliver offered in the NYTimes story from last week that itemized how much the FBI pushed back on the so-called "tips" they were given to follow-up on. I don't live in DC. I haven't worked in this "Community" that dabbles in overriding the privacy rights of American citizens. Yet I to my very core distrust this cabal of thinktank goofball conservatives that feel as though (as Karl Rove re-introduced over the weekend) that national security is their primary political advantage. I sincerely believe that as more details come out, Dubya will look more and more like a dupe in the plans of his underlings. Either that, or he's a scary Nixon-update in the chosen guise of a churchy cheeseball. Obviously, he's not that smart. This is simply Big Brother little minions run amok. Since the NYTimes sat on this story for a whole year I will bet my right wing nut on the fact that they've got much, MUCH more to present in the weeks and months ahead. The Bushies are simply trying to flood the zone with this week's onslaught. Don't believe an iota of it. Unless, of course, you hate freedom.

More importantly, our family getaway to Yosemite National Park was a brief exposure to the seemingly boundless beauty California has to offer. Maya got to hang with her honorary "big Sisters" - Stella and Sylvie. And they were more than happy to give Maya a loving shakedown. Snow time was had. Games were played. Sights were seen. Everyone joined in the fun to whatever level they could reach. I tried to cross-country ski with Stella and Sylvie's very sporty Dad, Mike, but my equipment was only slightly worse than my own preparedness. Which means it was horrible. Gorgeous days and vistas filled in any prepartory gaps on my part, though. If you've not seen the sights of Yosemite that Ansel Adams so brilliantly captured, you really should make the effort to do so at the first available opportunity. There's so much of this country that I've not yet seen. But I must say that I feel more self-satisfied with my American-ness after seeing this undisputable National Treasure.

Our other new nanny, Megan, started this morning. Maya had no problem with the transition, unlike her Dad. Megan's warm, funny, and totally engaged - Maya went to her immediately. Which convinces me that I'm already losing my darling little girl. In a good way. See, having been the stay-at-home Dad for the past almost 11-months has meant that I've been there for everything. Any parent will tweak the percentages, but I'd say that my time with Maya has been 82% stunningly new and life-affirming. The remaining 18% is split somewhere between dorkishly unsure, irrationally pissed, and terrified at just how much I don't know how to deal with it. But that 82% has filled me with more love and pride than I ever imagined possible. Megan's great. Collette (our other part-time nanny) is great. I'm able to focus on my work. Sarah's able to do so, as well. So why am I so frickin' teary-eyed and surprised by separation anxiety? Must be that I'm psyched about the Steelers-Seahags Super Bowl match-up (BY FAR the best in years and years). Or maybe I'm just a wuss. Either way, hope your own spines are steely and seaworthy. Rock on.