Friday, February 13, 2009
17 months

The babies are great. Getting easier and bigger every day it seems like. I feel like as they get easier my capacity to deal with the tough days goes down. I don't know if that makes sense, but the first year was so intense and involved such a huge amount of energy to just get through that I no longer feel like I can keep that up. At all. And when I need to, I find it harder to make myself do it.

With the economic slow-down, I've been purposely turning away any potential clients that lessen the service of my existing clients, and it's been fantastic to work less. I don't know why I couldn't bring myself to do that when the babies were tiny. I can do it when it's in my clients' best interests, but not when it's mine. Crazy.

I got on facebook a few months ago and talk about crazy. I've gotten in touch with so many people from high school and college that I thought I'd never see again. It's been a lot of fun, and not as hard to find the time for as I thought it would be. If you haven't checked out facebook yet, I recommend it. Be warned, it will blow your mind a little bit.

Drake has 16 teeth, Britta has 14 and Jack has 7. Everybody is running around and dancing. Drake has finally learned how to climb stairs. They all talk a lot of gibberish and have a few real words (mama, hi, no) but don't use them much. Our days are still pretty rigidly scheduled and it's hard when anything new comes up. But, life is good.

Okay, so this was pretty disjointed. But, I'm too tired to try to make it cohesive right now. Maybe next month.
posted by lochan | link
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Als das Kind Kind war
Driving home the other day Als das Kind Kind war popped into my head. For a second I didn't remember what it was from. It's from Wings of Desire which was once my favorite film (may still be, but I haven't seen it in 20 years, probably). I looked it up when I got up home and found this translation. So beautiful.

Bruno Ganz - Lied vom kindsein


When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.

When the child was a child,
it didn't know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.

When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair,
and made no faces when photographed.

When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell
not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people.
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn't exist before I came to be,
and that, someday, I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?

When the child was a child,
It choked on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding,
and on steamed cauliflower,
and eats all of those now, and not just because it has to.

When the child was a child,
it awoke once in a strange bed,
and now does so again and again.
Many people, then, seemed beautiful,
and now only a few do, by sheer luck.

It had visualized a clear image of Paradise,
and now can at most guess,
could not conceive of nothingness,
and shudders today at the thought.

When the child was a child,
It played with enthusiasm,
and, now, has just as much excitement as then,
but only when it concerns its work.

When the child was a child,
It was enough for it to eat an apple, … bread,
And so it is even now.

When the child was a child,
Berries filled its hand as only berries do,
and do even now,
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and do even now,
it had, on every mountaintop,
the longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city,
the longing for an even greater city,
and that is still so,
It reached for cherries in topmost branches of trees
with an elation it still has today,
has a shyness in front of strangers,
and has that even now.
It awaited the first snow,
And waits that way even now.

When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today.

- Peter Handke, Song of Childhood

posted by lochan | link
3 comments and fresh takes

Name: Laura

I have five kids including triplets. I'm too busy to blog, but I do anyway (uh, sometimes).

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