So everyone keeps telling me to enjoy this age. That he won't be this small again, he won't be this cuddly again, he won't be this way again, that it all changes. But I just can't.
I don't know if that I'm not a newborn person or if I'm not good with something being this dependent on me. But I just cant.
I'm looking forward to him being more active. To being able to put him in his highchair and have him watch me while I put away the groceries. I look forward to talking to him and interacting with him, not just holding him and him staring off into the distance. I want to be able to play with my son, crawl around with my son, watch him explore.
Maybe it's hard on me right now cause I'm not well. I have to remind myself of that. I've never been one to look down on people with mental illness or say they aren't sick. Cause they are it's just different then what we think sickness is. But for some reason, I can't get myself to believe that I'm sick. I just wish I was better. I wish I was more like myself. I wish I could stop second guessing myself or looking too much into the future. My therapist says I need to be more present. It's what I have to work on. It's our goal for the next session. We will see how it goes.