sporadic is my name, blogging is the game

you know those times in life when you realize you've just really let yourself down in all the kinds of ways that matter mostly to you and very little to anyone else? like forgetting to wish your co-worker a happy birthday or rushing through the check-out line without saying "thank you". it weighs heavily on you for a while until the next opportunity for rectification rolls around and you're all sorts of enthusiastic about holding the door for the woman with 3 kids and a dog getting off the elevator.

i don't mean to give away the happy ending before you've had a chance to settle in, but welcome to my rectification. 

when i go weeks months without popping by this dorky little blog, i lay the guilt on real thick in shaming conversations with myself. i always regret missing the opportunity for unbridled bragging. 

and also, who else is going to document henry's growth-chart statistics and broadcast them across the internet for everyone who doesn't care even a little bit?

no one but me, is who. 

he had his 18 month well-baby check last week. eighteen!! i didn't even know they made henrys in that size. 

but they do, and tomorrow he'll be starting pre-school (but not really. it hasn't been that long!).

he's 25 pounds now you guys. and he loves all the things he didn't like last week and hates the things he was bananas for yesterday. like baths. hates 'em. who knew? screams. our baths used to take up most of the night, and now there's precise calculus involved in getting the kid any sort of clean what.so.ever.

a few weeks ago, he went cold turkey on his 3 bottles a day habit and never looked back. on a good night that means a solid 12 hour stretch of blissful sleep - which used to be interrupted by "need bottle now" sobs at 3am. on a bad night, he beckons one of his lucky parents in for a slumber party that lasts anywhere from 10 minutes to the whole night, depending on how exhausting it sounds to get off the floor and walk back to bed. he likes to have his back patted, he likes the company of his parents. there's a whole lot of henry spoiling going on in our house, that fact's not lost on me. believe me (and my aching back).  

i've never heard the word "no" in my life more than in the last three weeks. it spills from his mouth in a rushed together staccato, and he means it. funny, because he never believes i mean it.

he's also a big fan of "yesth", but used sparingly. he luuuuuvs to go bye bye. he's rarely found separated from his "gaut", code for blanket. 

and his daddy lights up the very light in his eyes. 

he's, for all intents and purposes, the smartest kid around. and coming from his mother, you know that can't be an exaggeration. he's as spicy as they come and as stubborn as his mother (real mother f-in' stubborn). he's also the world's best cuddler and the most passionate kisser i've ever had the pleasure of knowing. he's curious and demanding. but he's dedicated whole-heartedly to his mother, and i've never felt more lucky in all my life.