Wake up time

I wake Nick up most mornings. His alarm goes off at eight but he ignores it and rolls himself ever tighter into his blanket. So I come in ten or fifteen minutes later, lie down next to him, and start talking and unrolling. I usually find his warm belly and say good morning to it. This morning that struck us both as funny, so I said good morning to various body parts: hair, teeth, eyes, knee, ear... It didn't get him out of bed any quicker (probably the reverse) but it did amuse us.

Mariah is having trouble finding things to do. Or, maybe more accurately, it seems that all she wants to do is watch TV and we want to expand her horizons. Mark had a long teary talk (Mariah's tears) with her last night about it, and reported that they were reconciled by the end and that she understood. In an immense act of self-control I stayed out of it. Usually when she cries I want to rush in to defend her--the mama lioness.

This morning she looked a little puffy around the eyes but seemed OK. And she just called me a few minutes ago to get directions to the community center (we drive past it daily but she's never taken note of how to get there...). She and Clothilde are biking over there to play ping-pong. Now I'm nervous that she's out in the world, with a French girl, no bike helmet, and a rusty bike lock--not to mention the traffic she'll have to negotiate. I want her to be more self-sufficient, but every new step she takes scares me at least as much as it scares her.