As I previously mentioned, I'm going through an angry stage. I hope it doesn't last long, because I don't like the angry me. Especially because angry me does not see signs of Weston anywhere. My favorite new word is the f-bomb. Ask my former work friends (former work, not former friends): I don't use that word. Something as minor as an iPhone app not working becomes f-bomb worthy, like it did this morning during my run. (Note: if I start actually writing that word on this blog, there is serious trouble.)
Poor Shannon. I was late getting home from my run, so he was late leaving for work. He came outside and waited on the sidewalk looking for me. When I got closer, he could see that I was just a blubbering mess. He had no idea what to do for me, he needed to get to work, I was sobbing in the garage-what a cluster. But I told him to go ahead, that I would be OK. No one can fight my demons for me, not even my husband.
Later, I took Caroline up to Desert Ridge. We almost never leave our central Phoenix bubble, but I had a specific errand I needed to run up there. While in the store, I saw a huge group of moms, babies, kids, strollers, etc. I asked the employee what was going on, and she said it was Stroller Strides. Stroller Strides is a fitness group for new moms to get their pre-pregnancy bodies back. They do the workouts with their babies in the strollers, so they don't have to worry about childcare. I've never done it; fitness classes are not really my thing, and I was working full-time after Caroline was born anyway. Now, I want my pre-pregnancy body back, but taking that class with an empty stroller? Sounds like the ninth circle of hell to me.
After the errand, I took Caroline to the indoor play gym. She has been asking to go to the playground by our house lately, but I can't go there yet (it's the site of the incident), so I was glad that she would get to run around. But wouldn't you know it, the entire Stroller Strides class, aka ninth level of hell, decided to come over to the play gym after their class. I'm censoring myself here, but I'm pretty sure I said the f-bomb out loud when I saw them walking in.
Stroller Strides moms are happy moms. They are skinny (none of them actually need the workout), they are sporting the post-workout endorphin rush, and hey! Their babies are actually ALIVE. And then they take their stupid alive babies out of the strollers and hold them, feed them, play with them, right in front of everyone.
The fact that most of the tiny babies were girls made the whole experience slightly easier. But there were about a million toddler boys in there. I just wanted to die. I made myself climb around with Caroline, but I could barely hold back the tears the whole time. And then I felt like a total jerk when this mom of a toddler boy was really sweet and friendly to me.
Caroline is a typical firstborn: she is cautious, and she weighs her options carefully before choosing. Now, with me not working, and being robbed of growing up with her brother, she is not used to being around kids as much anymore. She does not go to preschool. So she was pretty overwhelmed, first by the GIANT slide, and then all the kids. She fell and hurt her leg at one point, so she was a little weepy. Kind of like her mother.
Finally, I asked her if she wanted to leave and go to the "coffee place," and she said yes. I'm such a drag of a mother; now her favorite places are coffee shops! She said, "I like this place." I was crying a bit, so I told her, "This place is nice, but it makes me a little sad. It makes me miss Baby Weston." I was holding her at the time, and as soon as I said that, she gave me the biggest hug. She is the sweetest girl; I love her so much. And she perked right up when we got to the "coffee place." No pun intended.
I was disappointed by someone's petty selfishness today. It came from someone who knows about Weston. Honestly, it would have made me mad in a roll-my-eyes kind of way before, but after losing Weston, I have NO tolerance for pettiness, complaining, and selfishness. The f-bomb was dropped...but in the privacy of my kitchen, alone. It was kind of a shock, too; I have realized, through Weston, that I have a lot of really amazing people in my life, so it was hard to believe that other people can be so thoughtless in the wake of such a tragedy. I suppose that's a good problem to have.
You know what I hate? Passive aggressiveness! And that is what I just did. Sigh...I REALLY hate angry Shauna. She is a very immature person. But, in the interest of authenticity (and, I'll admit it, lingering anger and passive aggressiveness), I will not delete the anecdote.
But today was not all bad. Two childhood friends contacted me, via Internet and text, and I received a card from another friend. Naturally, cards have slowed to a trickle by now, and other communication has dropped off as well, so they made my day. Thanks, D, J, and A!
And I did decide to participate in the Capture Your Grief photography project. Today's subject was the sunrise. Technically, I did not get a picture of the actual sunrise, which occurred at 6:23 this morning. I didn't leave for my run until 7:15, so that's about when this picture was taken:
It's a photography masterpiece, I know. Weston, if you were here, I'd take you on this running path in the jogging stroller, and we would look at the trees together. It is one of my favorite places, and I bet you would love it too. We would have so much fun. I love you so much.
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