Your Mom is a Procrastinator.

Well, not your mom. This mom. Mommy Butter. Me.

Eliot is five months old. He smiles, laughs, rolls over, blows raspberries, and eats bananas. He is pretty much the most amazing thing that has ever happened to us, and we are blown away daily.

I guess that his awesomeness is my excuse for not having kept a baby book or started this blog before now. This procrastinating is not new. Anyone who knows me even a little knows this to be the case. It is hereditary, and I'm trying to break the cycle (Mom, you know who you are). I procrastinated packing my bag for the hospital, I tried to procrastinate Eliot's birth (our OB wanted a planned C-section, I wanted to schedule it for the last possible date he would allow), I have procrastinated finishing knitting Eliot's baby blanket, writing the last batch of thank you notes (sorry, everyone, I'll do them later, I swear!) and he's still sleeping in our room, as we have procrastinated finishing, I mean starting, his room.

I've been inspired by my friend Cara to start chronicling our time together as a sort of on-going love letter to Eliot, as well as a place for all of you to check in and see all the amazing and embarrassing times we are having together. Hopefully, I will not put it off any longer, as we really deserve to preserve all these memories. I have a feeling that this time is going to go so fast, I don't want to put off any of it.