and here's why:
yup, that's my daughter Tenée, born New Year's Eve 2009, so I think I'm excused from not writing here. If you think making a film is hard (don't get me wrong, it is), then think again: having a kid's ten times harder. Hell, it doesn't even compare. Any little bit of time you think you've got for yourself evaporates. And I'm just the father. My wife's the real hero here. She's at the beck and call of that (now) ten pound milk-to-shit-conversion machine 24/7. And that's exactly what it means: all day, every day. The kid cries, and then the mad scramble starts trying to figure out what the hell's wrong: is she hungry? diapers full? does she need to burp? what? what is it kid? don't you like my face? and after an elaborate song and dance, she sleeps for an hour. Only to wake again, and the whole thing starts over. But I'm not complaining here: one smile from her, and I'll gladly suffer any torment.
Hey, since you asked, here's another picture. In this one she's dreaming about the next diaper she's going to happily fill: