We've been keeping really busy all day with party preparations, so I've kept the tidal wave of "what ifs" and "shouldn't bes" in the back of my brain instead of in my throat, so I guess that's better. 

 

Sam and I have been discussing this, and he's all done with the terrible twos now, so three will be his year. 

So I'm baking cookies and trying not to sob so I figured I'd unload here since I don't really know any other place to do that.  That old familiar dread I get when Sam's birthday comes around started a while ago; it does help that we're actually celebrating this year, and keeping busy helps too, but it's still just so hard to look at it and not see everything that's just so very very wrong.  So maybe I suck that I can't just see what's right, but at the moment, I'm a little wrapped up in the fact that Tim and I can't even figure out what to get our own son for his birthday.  We seriously have no idea of anything that's not medical or therapy-related.  I just want to go buy my kid a bike, a regular bike, like I'm supposed to.

 

Yesterday Ben and I were out running errands and we stopped to have lunch together.  That doesn't happen a whole lot, so it should have been a nice time, and there were some kids nearby, and Ben was making a little baby boy smile and laugh.  Well, his mom said to me, "Looks like he needs a baby brother" and Ben told her he had one.  Of course, I went completely mute and she must have thought I was some sort of lunatic or basketcase, which I guess wasn't too far off.  I started to say "He has one, but...." which just makes me angry at myself.  AArrggghhhh.  Blah blah blah.  Okay, now that's off my chest maybe I can shake it off and get on with things. 

 

And then I went to the eye doctor who told me I'm old and need glasses.