It's been a festive weekend. Getting the tree up Friday, and then the stockings on the banister. This is the first year we have a good place for the stockings. There is ONE good thing I guess. I managed not to cry while we were in line to see Santa. I don't know how. I think it was the fear of everyone NOTICING. I guess I could have played it off as the overly emotional mom, but it really had nothing to do with Evan. I don't know if Christmas would be as hard as it is if Caleb would have been born in June. I don't know if it is all still so hard almost 3 years later just because he happened to be born 11 days after Christmas. We were in Hallmark looking at ornaments and there was the huge pregnant woman right beside us, looking for the perfect ornament for the baby. I hated that woman. Hated her desperately. We turned Evan's stroller around and left the store as fast as possible. I hate this woman so much for doing the same things I was doing 3 years ago. And I hate her because MY happy ending was taken from me. Yanked out from under me, and no one bothered to ask MY opinion on the whole thing.

I did get a perfect ornament for Caleb while we were at the mall. It doesn't make things ok, but what else can I do? It's a painted sandollar, with a little angel releasing a dove. They released a dove at Caleb's funeral, so it seemed fitting. I'll have to see if my digital camera still works (Evan was eating it not too long ago) and take a picture.