I had a bit of a breakdown. Some old problems reared their heads. But I'm feeling better now. One of the keys is to remember to be grateful.
I had lunch on Sunday with two friends, one of whom just had her third miscarriage, an ectopic requiring emergency, life-saving surgery, and one of whom is pregnant with her second child.
In some ways it felt like a UN summit. But really, because of their mutual courage and bravery and willingness to talk about that which most would leave un-addressed, it was one of the better times I've shared with them.
And now, I have bloggy writer's block.
Here's a topic I started long ago.
Brody and I were in the bread aisle at the grocery store.
A boy, age approximately 11, and his mother were also in the bread aisle.
Brody eating rice krispie treat. Boy staring.
At Brody's hands.
He nudges his mother, who looks, becomes horrified at her own son, whispers angrily in his ear to stop staring.
But mom, boy says.
He still stares.
I have to admit, I was angry at first.
But as the mother's distress at her son's behavior grew, I felt sympathy for her, and empathy. He wouldn't stop staring.
It became amusing. His mother was mortified. Our eyes met, and I half-smiled.
I made sure Brody hadn't noticed. He ignored them.
So did I.
But what to do about staring people? He looks different.
Ignoring is my favorite option.
Then a boy at Brody's daycare, age 5 or 6, pointed his middle finger at Brody as we walked by to go to our car. Brody's middle finger is his pointer finger. It was such a weird gesture that I thought it was directed at Brody's different-ness. But maybe I'm paranoid. I can't tell if it was malicious or random or neither or both.
Again, Brody didn't notice or care.
I think I might one of these times though.