Five days I've been on this anti-depressant and on day three I said to my husband that I felt different. But that wasn't actually accurate. I don't feel different. I feel like myself. Like something has been smoothed over inside. I don't wake up resentful and mad. I feel more patient with everyone, more importantly, myself. I know the doctor said it could be weeks before I felt a difference, but for me, the shift was almost immediate. I don't know how much of that is in my head, and I don't think it even matters. I feel better. I feel like me. Finally.
In other news, my son is starting to babble - a lot. He has done this off and on, but I think his language is really starting to take off. He points to the door and says "outside". Or at least, something that resembles the word "outside". He says mama, and cold, and he looks at things and babbles about them, saying something in his baby language in that little baby voice that is so sweet I want to die from the cuteness. I have wanted him to talk for a while. I want to be able to communicate with him. I'm a lady of words and talking and saying things out loud. I love that he's starting to get it, he's starting to communicate in a way that I can kind of sort of understand. I remember this phase from my nieces and nephews. That gibberish language of a toddler that can be maddening and endearing and sweet. He points to the sky and says "airpane". He points to cars (trucks and anything else with four wheels) and says "ca". In fact, sometimes he sounds like a bird - ca! ca! ca! So cute and sweet. He is growing at lightening speed - just like every mother on the planet warned me he would. I look at pictures from a few months ago and the baby he was has disappeared and has been replaced with this little man-child. He is stubborn, like most toddlers. He wants what he wants when he wants it and denying him, even if it's just for a moment, has resulted in some epic fits. He has yet to throw himself on the floor and have a full on tantrum, but I can see that is in my near future.
What I love right now:
How my son uses my hair as his security blanket. If I were to cut my hair, I think he would be traumatized. First thing in the morning, when he's still waking up, he wraps his arms around my neck and buries his hands in my hair. He holds my hair when I'm rocking him. He holds it when he is upset or tired or needs comfort. I thought he would have a blanket or a stuffed animal as a lovey. Turns out, his lovey is my hair. I often wonder if I'm raising a boy to become a man who loves the long haired ladies. There are worse things, I guess.