every day is a first.

So I have this awful insomnia because oh, I don't know, I'm under a little bit of pressure.  That whole raising a kid on my own thing and being 37 years old and my kid and I are still living with my parents because the economy is in the shitter and nobody wants to hire an old lady social worker thing.  I go nights without sleeping, or getting an hour or two of sleep.  And then my body pretty much shuts down and I sleep.  And I sleep.  And I sleep.  Last night the sleep stage of life began so it's 8:30 and I'm about to go to bed.  Yay!

But first I have to tell you about Henry's firsts this week.

Yesterday he insisted on walking on the treadmill.  Alone.  While it was on.  Of course I didn't let him do this, I stood behind him ready to catch him while ten million ways he could injure himself ran through my head.  But he didn't even stumble and he had a blast.  Laughed the whole time.

Yesterday he said "douche."  Bad bad mommy. 

Today he said "car."  Good mommy!

Today he learned to spin around and around and around until he got dizzy and fell down.  Laugh and repeat. 

Yesterday the tantrums began.  Two of them.  Before noon.  First, because he got caught playing in the cat's water and he got a stern talking to.  Second, because I made him leave the bathroom where he is only allowed to play in the bathtub, during bathtime.  I made him leave because he wasn't playing in the tub, he was opening drawers and pulling out random bathroom items, and it wasn't bathtime.  Oh.  The.  Drama. 

Today he played outside with his hero, er, his grandpa, for a looooong time while I watched baseball.  It wiped him out so tonight before bed we sat and cuddled on the couch and watched more baseball.  I explained some of the ins and outs of the game and it was wonderful.

I have so much to be thankful for and the list begins with Henry.