James has been needing some new shoes (for longer-er since July-than I care to think about) so I was finally able to find the time (i.e. get up off the couch, off the computer, away from my thoughts) to take him up to the local sporting goods store. I have to tell you that Dunham's, if you have them by you, is by far and away the best place on earth to buy tennis shoes for your kids...without breaking the bank. Leonard had this "thing" about putting the kids in high quality shoes, whereas I was more of the "but Payless is doing BOGO this week" kind of mother. My husband was far better at the do what's best for the kids way of thinking. Anyway, again with the being off topic, we went right after he came in the door from school. If I don't do something in that 5 minutes there is a 90% chance that we won't be going anywhere. (85% of statistics are made up on the spot by people who just want to be right) He really likes the New Balance shoes. He being James. They are regularly $49.95 but I got them or $25.99. With tax, they were $98.00. Okay, with tax and the impulse shop of 6 new pairs of socks, a Lions jersey (because he never had one and it is heartbreaking to see him wallowing in his Daddy's really big one) and a pair of Lions PJ bottoms. Luckily I got out of there before I found myself buying anything else. Retail therapy can be a real and scary thing I am finding out and I really don't want to be that way. We are home now and he is busy screaming with his friends on the trampoline.
Thank you so much for your words of encouragement about my last post. Because I have verification (in the form of the registered mail receipt) I should be okay. My issue with the Ms. is because I asked nicely, once, to be addressed by my real title, Mrs. I am still his wife. I am angry with myself for devoting so much time to anger at one person. I have always been that way. I am the woman who will call out the cashier for being rude to the person in front of me in line or the person in front of me in line for being rude to the cashier. It used to drive my husband nuts.
I did also buy myself two tops but only because I had a 25% off coupon at JC Penney's and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Although it brought up a memory and made me feel a little guilty. I am ashamed to admit that I had gotten to be rather a "frump" during our marriage and liked to blame it on motherhood. I am just, in all honesty, more comfortable slumping around in pajamas rather than clothing all day. Ask my daughter about the time I forgot that I had to go in and sign her out for her school dance, took a shower (because I thought no one would see me in my pajamas in the car), realized that I had to go sign her out when I saw the other parents walking in...and ended up embarrassing her in front of "All my friends, Mom, thanks..."*insert eye rollie* At least the Scottie dog top matched the bottoms and there were no (discernible holes)...
---Off topic but does the sound of children screaming while jumping on trampolines drive you as batty as it does me?
I remember a time, right after James was born, that we went to Somerset Mall with my visiting brother and sister in law. I had, stupidly, read in a parenting magazine how a postpartum mom can cheer herself by wearing at least matching sweats with maybe a kicky bow in her hair. So I did. Off I went (in blueberry blue sweats) to a mall that most people go to dressed really trendy (it is a high end mall). My sister in law is one of those people who can dress up, add a hat and look like a cover girl. She has really good taste in clothing and it shows. We were walking through the mall....well I was shuffling more like...behind my sister in law and Leonard turned to me and said, "You are such a frump..." in an affectionate, teasy manner. I was thinking of that today and hurting a little bit. Hurting because it would not have taken much to put on a pair of pants (other than the sweat variety) with a nice top to welcome him home...instead of the holey shirts/shorts/jammy bottom combos. File this under the things I could have done to make him happy because that is what I lived for file. I wish for so many unobtainable things...which then creates the hurt that never goes away.
Where I once could look at photographs of him, I am finding (this week) that is really difficult for me to stare into that face that I know is gone from me. I was watching the DVD that was made for him every morning when the kids left for school...now I find that I cannot bear it. This grieving is so very strange. One moment, I can speak of him with clarity. Another moment, just the mention of his name dissolves me for the day. It is plain. It is simple. I want/need him.
There are so many things yet to be done...and so much of me that wasn't want to do them. These little acknowledgements of his loss.
Did anyone watch Tyra Banks today? With Melissa Etheridge? For once, I cried for other reasons. It is a powerful interview and I encourage anyone who didn't see it (and has the Oxygen channel) to watch it tomorrow night. I wish I could be strong like that. And has anyone else gotten addicted to this: http://play.blogger.com/? It is a continuous stream of images that are being posted on blogger's blogs. It is fascinating and, I will admit, some of the images have brought me to tears, while still others compel me to think WTF?