Dad and I had a nice, rainy Saturday yesterday.
I got my hair cut (a whole two inches taken off! Drastic!):
We did some "retail therapy" at Nordstrom Rack:
Went to a sushi bar with cool lighting:
Went out for some super yummy Thai food (you would have loved it--super spicy just how you like it!):
Checked out the new "zombie bar" in town (yes, it really was a zombie-themed bar and yes, it was awesome):
Walked around and took a few silly self-pics:
Sang along to old-school Randy Travis in the car ("I'm gonna love you forever, forever and ever, amen..."):
And ended the evening with a stop at the grocery store, where we stocked up on our reduced fat Cheez-itsz (they were buy one get one free!):
All and all it was a pretty fun night. It felt like things were back to the way they were before you died, before I was ever pregnant. It felt like our lives were back to normal.
And that sucks.
We were ready for big changes. We had been anticipating how our lives were going to be completely transformed when you arrived for so long. So to feel like nothing has changed, that we're back to exactly the way we were 8 months ago, feels like a kick in the gut. I should be happy that we're at a point where we can go out and enjoy ourselves a bit, but the whole time I'm thinking, "Stevie should be with us right now," or "I shouldn't be able to order a drink right now, I should still be pregnant." Having the freedom to do whatever we feel like and come home whenever we want is nice, but I was ready to stay at home with you on Saturday nights. I was ready to go to family-friendly places with "Kids Eat Free" deals rather than zombie-themed bars. I was ready to be your mom.
I don't want all this freedom I have. I want you.
I love you so much, Baby. Even when life is good, there will always be something missing--you.
Makes the Missing Lighter
1 hour ago