My Son, The Tramp

Today was the baby's first day in daycare. I was a little apprehensive, not so much because I didn't want him away from me, but because I really don't know the daycare provider yet. What if she's an axe murderer or the witch from Hansel and Gretel? However, once I had left him and looked at the clock five hours later, I did secretly think "is it time to pick him up ALREADY?". So when I get there, I go to take him, and he looks at the lady as if to say "is this person okay?", which is what he normally does with me when someone new comes to see him. Tramp. Goes to anyone with a bottle and a pair of arms. This does not bode well for later in life.

And yes, it was lovely. I got to wash my hair in peace, empty the trash, go to the store and buy as many groceries as I needed and get them home and put away, buy a gift for someone, etc. Tomorrow I hope to take a nap and exercise.

We did something fun this weekend. The baby's favorite word is "boo". We've been practicing "Yankees -- yaaaay! Red Sox -- booooooo" which he finds funny, although his father does not. I discovered that we live right down the street from Hillary Clinton's national campaign headquarters, so we went over there, stood in front, and practiced the word "booooo" over and over. He also rolled over for the first time yesterday.

Here's the little boy trying to get into my good graces. He must have snuck into my wallet and on the internet when I wasn't looking to get me a Mother's Day present. He also sent me a card, which I suspect may have been gotten by Uncle Bogie as payback for all those cards he's had sent to him Mommy for which I just happened to pay for and pay for the postage.