Not to keep bringing up post partum depression, BUT I'm gonna.
When Eli was the age that Sam is now, I was in a bad place. Nothing seemed real and I was walking around in a fog letting everyone else take care of Eli. However, I can remember distinctly when he started smiling. I remember feeling GOOD when he smiled at me. This week Sam is definitely smiling with that same Eli smile, and it's hard not to be reminded of that scary place I was before. I'm moving ON; there is no scary place this time. I am breathing a sigh of relief and feeling confident, strong, victorious. We kicked your ASS post partum depression. Me and Effexor.
Oh, and those smiley little boys that this post is really about ...
Some moments they look eerily alike, and the next they look totally different. They both are such good little boys, cute little boys, but oh my gosh, so much work. Especially 24 hrs with no daddy.
Yesterday I cried twice, screamed once, and drank a large glass of wine once they were both FINALLy asleep.
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