Tycho is almost nine months old, and he is so much fun these days. I haven't been struck at all by any post-partum mood disorder, nor was Tycho a "hard" baby by any stretch of the imagination, and I've loved him to pieces since before he was born, but I won't lie. I didn't love parenting a newborn. It's not hard, per se, but it is endless and thankless and BORING. Yes, he was adorable, but adorable only gets you so far. Like, twenty minutes. The all day, every day monotony was so not for me.
But now. Now. You would call him a toddler if he could, well, toddle. (He did finally learn how to crawl the other night, yay!) He plays and interacts and has a big toothy grin. He looks like a little kid, not a baby. Sometimes the days are still long, and I can't imagine how I'm going to survive one more hour until bedtime, but for the most part, this stage is AWESOME.
When I was taking a shower this morning I was thinking how I kind of miss being pregnant. I am SO not ready to actually think about having another baby, but I do miss the dreamy potential of it all. Give me another year or so. But at least now I can actually imagine doing this again. If you asked me a month or two ago... I don't even know.
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