not all smiles

oh sure, he smiles a lot and is happy most of the time. but when he frowns, he gives it his all. a face like this takes 110 percent.
it's debatable whether he's really sad here or if he's just upset that his dad is wearing a velvet track jacket.
for kicks, let's assume he's actually upset.
are we supposed to take him seriously? if this is his 'please take me seriously' face he's really got some work to do because all it makes us do is laugh. that's probably going to really make him mad when he gets older.
today i'm going to meet a woman who may become our babysitter. i don't feel especially hyper about hiring someone or about leaving him with whomever i hire. i think if she speaks moderately understandable english, knows how to put a diaper on and isn't creepy i'll probably sign her up. in fact, i'm hoping to enlist her for this saturday night so tayloe and i can go to a party thrown by a magazine i hope to start writing for.
hi. nice to meet you. here's our son. have a nice time.
it probably won't go so smoothly, though. in fact, i'm going to go ahead and assume that the hiring-a-babysitter process is way more complicated than i think it is because just about everything about having a baby has turned out to be way more complicated than i thought it was.
getting my day started, for example. for some reason, i can't seem to get my shit together before 11 a.m. we wake up. i have to eat. he eats. wolly demands ball throwing. there's usually a fit somewhere in there (either me or him). i get sidetracked by laundry or 'the view' or cleaning something and before i know it half of the day is gone and i haven't gotten dressed or brushed my hair. because of this, i can't accept any invitations or assume any real responsibilities before noon.
i realize i've probably lost my mind, but my solution to this is to start putting him to bed earlier at night so he wakes up .... earlier. jesus. i can't even believe i want that to happen.
part of me is reluctant to change his schedule up because we've pretty much got it down and it works for the most part. the other, smarter part of me knows that it doesn't really matter because in a couple of weeks (days?) he'll change it up himself and i'll be left in a fangle trying to catch up.
so this time i'm going to beat him to the punch.
yes. i know. i'm only kidding myself. but hush. just let me believe, if only for a moment, that i'm in control.