Things that suck

I took Monkey to the park last night to play. A tall, skinny boy and his sister began playing on the swing next to ours. She called him Noah. Oh, what might have been. Is this his way of popping in to say hello? I know there are many boys named Noah, but none swing next to Monkey. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and pretended those were both my boys. One time to all play together at the park. I know this will never happen, but I can dream.

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I am fat...I don't care...yes, I do. I carry this pooch of skin from twin babies that were big enough to be singletons. I look in the mirror and don't recognize this person. So unhappy, so out of control, and so scared. Who is that person looking back? How did I get here? I turned 29 a few weeks ago. I feel like I am 50. I look like hell. I just don't care enough to do anything about it. How did I become an unhappy, angry mother of one living baby and one dead without her soul mate?