sigh.

I have a million posts that I have written. In my head. And lists. Lots and lots of lists, and one of the things on one of the lists is to write some, or one, of the posts in my head. Seriously, I make lists like they are going out of style. I think it's the only way I get anything done. Everything related to the kid is important and must get done, so I make lists. The other day I realized I might have a list-making problem when I was driving and caught myself making a list in my head of all the lists I've made lately.

I also go back and forth about what I should and should not post. And is anyone really reading anyway? I originally wanted to post updates on the kid for his extended family in other states. I have no idea if they are reading and I'm not sure if anyone else is reading and I guess it doesn't really matter but there are probably a shit-ton of other things I could be spending my time doing while Henry takes his afternoon nap and would you like to see the list?

But back to what should and shouldn't be posted. The kid. The interwebs. I don't want them to have a tumultuous relationship before he even understands that the interweb is useful for more than just watching Oceans on Netflix on mama's computer while she hurriedly makes breakfast at oh-dark-thirty in the morning before he starts yelling real loud. I don't think I've written anything embarrassing for him. Yet. I'm trying to have a filter. It's hard because I have never had a filter and I'm so tired most of the time so I probably even have less of a filter than when I'm rested (when was that? I don't remember).

Anyway...

I'm sure I have gone through this little crisis of whether or not I should continue to blog in the past. And apparently I've worked it out by continuing to blog.

Here's something not related to my blogging existential crisis. The other day I decided it was time for Henry to go in the hot tub (the temperature of the water was 96 degrees so don't worry, I wasn't trying to cook my kid) for the first time. Please disregard his scary mama in this photo and focus instead on how adorable he is in his plaid swim trunks.


He really liked it!


Until I dunked him under water. He didn't like that too much. He didn't cry, but he rarely does. Instead he just looked at me like, "Really mama? Really?" I don't have pictures of it and it's probably better that way.

Ummm... I think I probably just embarrassed him by posting these photos.

Parenting is so hard.