First day jitters. (I may have to include the name of a good therapist in the teacher gifts this year.)

We have come such a long way.

The reason I started this blog - other than to have a place to vent about how overwhelmed I was feeling at the time - was to have a spot to record our journey. A public place, where I could let out my narcissistic exhibitionist side.

Looking back, I can see how much life has changed.

How little sleep I used to get.

How awesome I've become with the passing of time. It's really quite a lot, which is odd considering I was already incredibly awesome when I started blogging.

Oh, right: and how much the gremlins are growing. Also that.

When I started this blog, I was pregnant with Spawnling. He was born on October 12, 2006. Since that was before the widely spread use of smartphones, my sister made the announcement on this blog and remains its only guest poster to date.

I was really, really high when I called to give her the details. I was on two fantastic i.v. drugs that made me think everything was hilarious: lights, doctors, dropped surgical instruments, toothbrushes, my new baby... In fact, when the doctor said "He looks just like his daddy!" I replied with " Phew. Thank goodness I dodged that bullet!"

People should never give me drugs. Never, ever, ever.

After my unplanned c-section and unfortunate stay in the recovery room where I told the nurse far too much information about our sex life, I was brought back to the room to chill with my ten pound homey. Geekster stood nervously by the bed as I balanced the phone on my shoulder to recite the birth details to my sister, and latched our newborn on for his first feeding with my free hands. There were pillows and bars and my i.v. and a few other things that I sort of haphazardly threw around to make breastfeeding work right after surgery. I don't remember very much on account of how stoned I was, but I'm sure it was terrifying to watch.

Anyway, the point is I didn't drop my hour-old baby off the bed despite being so high, and he's alive today to start kindergarten. The end.

Can you believe it? I'm both sentimental and thrilled, as I confessed in my last post. There were no tears this morning from anyone. Here are some pictures.

Big brother Gutsy and a worried-looking kindergartener

Still looking slightly worried, but warming up to the idea.

All better. And if I don't have THE CUTEST five-year-old on the planet, I'll tell him you said that and he'll probably kick you a few times.

Happy first day, my littlest gremlin. I love you tremendously - even when I'm not high, which says a lot.