Friday, November 7, 2008

Day 80 on Lexapro.

Day 58 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

Now when I go to pick up Em from school, I have to chase her around the play yard to get her to come home with me.

This day, I caught her faster than usual.

As I stood there, holding her hand and catching my breath, several children began to approach me.

Out of the pack, a little girl stepped forward.

“I like your hair,” she said shyly.

“You do?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh yes. It’s very pretty.”

“Well, thank you.”

Then a little boy stepped forward, too.

“I like the color of your hair,” he said, smiling broadly.

“Well, thanks guys! I like your hair, too,” I said turning to the little girl. “And yours, too,” I said to the little boy.

“Do you like mine?” A small voice peeped.

Another little boy, no older than four, stepped forward from the back of the pack.

“Oh yes,” I told him enthusiastically. “I like yours very much!”

“It’s a mohawk,” he told me proudly.

“I can see that!”

“My aunt did it for me,” he explained.

“Well, she did a very good job,” I told him.

He beamed proudly.

Then we turned to go.

This day, as I took Em’s hand and pulled her from her new group of friends, I decided that I just might keep hair the way it is: red, red, red.