Permission to not be ok

By now you've come to realize I'm no professional blogger.  When it's been months years since my last blog post it's apparent that this is just a therapy medium for me, not an actual blog.  So you probably won't find me at any blogging conferences anytime soon.
But sometimes life inspires me to write.  I have to get it out into the endless space of the internet so that I can release the thoughts consuming me.
I have always admired eternal optimists.  I'd like to think I'm a pretty positive person.  Ever since I was a little girl I knew I would have a good life.  I just knew I would:
marry the man of my dreams ✓
love my job ✓
have a beautiful family ✓

I don't know how I knew these things, I just felt everything would always work out.  This attitude about life has served me well up until this point.
Fast forward to last week.  We've had a lot of life happening in the last 6 weeks.  Nothing earth shattering but just life stuff.  Things that have started to drum up emotions and feelings that I didn't realize had been buried for the last 2 1/2 years. And for the first time I felt like I couldn't get off the couch all day.  I didn't even feel that way right after Kellen passed away.  I felt a heaviness that I couldn't shake and couldn't describe if someone asked me to.  And it scared me.  I zoned out for the day.  And I don't mean on a surface level.  I mean I couldn't function that day.  My kids watched tv show after tv show and I stayed in the same position on the couch for most of the day.
The next day was better but still not great and I was worried that there was something seriously wrong with me.  I picked up my bestie to drive to work together and in the car she asked me how I was doing.  I was real with her.  "I'm not doing so good," I told her.  I went on to explain to her the feelings, or lack of feelings I had the day prior and it opened up the door to talking about October 29, 2013.  She was there with me that day.  In fact she stood outside with me waiting for the ambulance to arrive, praying that it was all going to be ok.  She watched as my chest literally felt like it was caving in and the world was spinning around me.  And in that car ride with her we talked about that day.  The details we remembered, the conversations, the tears.  And by the time we were done with that conversation I felt a little lighter.
So I started asking around for recommendations for grief counselors.  And I'm in the process of getting an appointment set up.  I didn't think what I was experiencing was grief related but as a fellow beautiful angel mama shared with me, the numbness is finally wearing off.
I've always chosen to be around people that choose positivity and joy.  I don't have the brain space for extra negativity.  And to be quite honest, after October 29th, I have a different definition of what a bad day looks like than most people do.  So when someone is going on and on about how they got a flat tire, and were late to work so it's the worst day ever, I'm saying a silent prayer to myself that I'm able to keep my mouth shut so I don't lose a friend over how I really feel. I'm sure you're all now going through all the conversations we've had in your head wondering if you ever said anything that made me want to slap you.  It's possible.  It's also possible that I understood you were just venting in the moment and not someone who makes mountains out of molehills on the regular.  
All of this lead to a realization that in my quest to be positive and choose joy, I may have given others the impression that they didn't have permission to not be ok.  And for that I'm sorry.  It's ok to not be ok.  But it's not ok to not be ok and not do anything about it.
Choosing joy can look like feeling sad and reaching out to a friend to have coffee.  Choosing joy can look like feeling lost and reaching out to a professional to talk out what you're walking through.  Choosing joy can look like feeling alone and writing in a journal to get out all the thoughts in your head.  Choosing joy can be feeling hopeless and serving others so you can be reminded of the good things you have.  Choosing joy can look like feeling shattered and going to church (seriously people, please go).  Mine is pretty freaking awesome (yes I just said that about church) but there's lots of great ones.  Just go.
As your friend (and we're all friends here right?) imagine me holding your face between my hands and saying it's ok if you're not ok.  But I love you enough to not let you stay there.  Please do something about it.  I love coffee and look for any excuse to go have it with someone.

For this I prayed

Wow!  Over 6 months since my last post.  I think that may be a personal record for me.  I'm obviously not a professional blogger.  This is mostly an outlet for me as well as a way for long distance family and friends to keep up with all things Naldjian.  I haven't written lately because I simply haven't been inspired to write.  Don't get me wrong, our lives are far from boring.  We've been busy this summer and are gearing up for Farrah to start the first grade in just a couple weeks.  Evan is almost 21 months (I know I know... the months thing is irritating to people but he just doesn't seem to fit the one year old category), and man, has this past week been a challenge.  I feel like my house has been filled with a permanent sound of whining.  Am I so far removed from when Farrah was in this stage?  Was it ever this bad with her?  It's possible.  I just don't remember.
He has no idea what he wants.  Or maybe he does and I'm just not understanding which is why he feels the need to scrunch up his face, let out the whining noise that never seems to end and just walk around the house making sure everyone knows how mad he is.  He's started hitting too which has made for some interesting apology sessions to unsuspecting toddlers' parents during playdates.  I swear he's a great kid he's just kind of a pint sized jerk right now.
In these moments it's easy for me to lose my patience.  I inherited my dad's short temper.  Long lines?  Can't deal.  Calling a customer service line and being on hold for an hour?  I lose it. Yes it's different when it's your child, but also, not really.  It's hard to keep your cool when your kid decides the dinner he loved yesterday is now his least favorite thing in the world and it would be better suited on the carpet than on his high chair tray. Fellow parents, hear me when I say I know how hard this is.  But I keep coming back to the fact that this is what I prayed for.  I wanted every part of being a parent to a little life again after we lost Kellen.  The sleepless nights, the spit up, even the colic.  And Evan delivered on all of those!  Imagine that!  So now we're here, navigating waters we never got to with Kellen.  And it's joyous.  Really though.  I have to remind myself of that when I want to pull out my hair because he JUST.WON'T.LAY.STILL so I can change his diaper.  Yes, even I, the mom who should find joy in every moment automatically after loss has to remind herself that this IS a blessing.  I get to experience something many people wish they could and, for that, I am grateful.
So carry on, toddler parents!  I salute you.  I promise I'll believe you when you say how sweet your kid is even when they're screaming on the floor at Target.  Find the joy.  It's a blessing.

 This is my "why the heck are you not asleep?" face

Proof he still has cute moments.  His "cheese!" face.  

To the mom who caught me staring

My current obsession is all things Christmas.  The lights, the hot cocoa, the trees, the time with family, the feeling, the hot cocoa.... so much hot cocoa.  It's pretty magical.  

I was caught up in the magic a few days ago when I was at a Christmas tree lot.  Red starbucks cup in hand, among the Christmas trees I was soaking in all of the magic of this season when I noticed a young family picking out their tree.  The dad was leading the charge, carrying the tree they had chosen and helping the guy that worked there get it strapped to the top of the car.  The mom was wearing a typical mom uniform for early on a Saturday morning, ugg boots, yoga pants, hoodie and a messy bun.  She had a baby boy on her hip who was about 1.  He was rocking his Christmas footie pajamas, a binky, and a confused look on his face as they walked through all the trees.  Then there was their daughter who looked to be about 6.  She was dressed pretty cute for so early in the morning.  And although I couldn't make out what she was saying, she was talking a lot.  Sounds like another 6 year old girl I know.  

And then my eyes locked on their other son.  He looked to be about 3. My mind instantly raced to a place that I have to fight hard to not allow myself to go to.  2 years later, on most days I feel great.  It takes a lot for me to go to a negative place now.  If you would have been around me 1 year and 10 months ago, that would be a different story.  I could race to that negative place at the drop of a hat.  Farrah would say something that would make me cry, I would see a picture, start thinking about what life would be like if he were still here.  But not now.  Kellen is now a happy memory in my heart.  And I'm so happy that I've arrived to this stage. 

But on that day in the Christmas tree lot I found myself slipping back to that sad place.  I watched the 3 year old, distracted and not really paying attention to the task of picking out a tree.  I watched his mom scold him for kicking the gravel around.  I watched his sister yell at him when he continued to kick the gravel and kicked it at her.  

I watched their family of 5 load up into their SUV with 3 rows of seats after the tree was strapped up on top and the mom begin to do the dance of getting the baby buckled in and going around to the other side of the car to make sure everyone was strapped in.  They closed the door and were about to drive away when the door opened and the 3 year old boy jumped out and ran over to the man who had helped them, handed him a few bucks and then hoisted himself back into his seat.  

They drove away and I felt that burning in my throat and the tears started to fall.  I was happy that I was able to at least save the tears for after they left.  The mom had locked eyes with me when I was staring and I looked away.  I didn't want to be that creepy lady staring at her kids and I certainly didn't want to be the crying creepy lady staring at her kids.  I just kept thinking how that should be us.  

A month or two after Kellen passed, Abe, Farrah and I went to starbucks and we were sitting there enjoying our drinks when I noticed a woman staring and smiling at Farrah as she was waiting for her drink.  Her drink came and she hesitated as she walked past our table.  She decided to stop and she said "You have a beautiful daughter"  and she left.  

I wondered what prompted her to notice my daughter.  Maybe she was just a nice person.  Maybe she lost a daughter and Farrah reminded her of her daughter.  Maybe she wasn't able to have kids and seeing my daughter made her think of what could have been.  

Most of the time when I'm out and about I'm in my own world trying to wrangle my kids and I don't really see people.  And then there are days like that day when I see people.  I notice every detail.  I didn't say anything to them because I didn't want to cry in front of them and I didn't want to spoil their magical day.  But if I could have said something to that mom it would be to enjoy every seemingly difficult moment.  Embrace the times you have to bust out your mom voice, the times you have to break up an argument, and the times when you are exhausted but still have hours left before bedtime.  I know it's not easy when you're in the thick of it.  But from an outsiders perspective, it's a beautiful thing.  

Judging grief

This morning after dropping off Farrah at school I was driving the country roads back to our house and could see Evan kicking his feet in the car seat through the rear view mirror.  I still have many moments where it hits me.  It hits me how much losing Kellen on October 29, 2013 has effected the rest of our lives.
Let me back track for a minute.  I remember several years ago when there was a story circulating on the news about a horrific crime in Connecticut where 2 men broke into the house of Dr. William Petit, murdered his wife and 2 daughters and set his home on fire.  He was the only survivor.  A while after this happened, it was in the news that he had gotten remarried and was expecting a child with his new wife.  Of course, people judged him, and I, unfortunately, judged right along with them.  How could he possibly get remarried so quickly?  And have another baby?  He's just "replacing" his old family.
And then we found ourselves in a position after losing a child where outsiders might not understand our decisions moving forward.  A few months after losing Kellen, we were expecting a new baby.  Yes we were ready, no we were not replacing him, no you don't have to worry about us being emotionally able to handle a new baby.  In those moments I understood Dr. William Petit and I was sorry I had judged.  Our loss is in no way equal to what he went through, however I could understand the feeling of excruciating pain, and desiring to be happy again. When you are in that thick state of fresh grief, it is exhausting.  There will never be another Kellen.  My heart made room for a new baby so each child could have 100% off my heart.  
Several months after Kellen passed I started hearing from people that I seemed to be doing so well.  I feel the need to explain this a little bit further.  I have my moments.  Sometimes those moments happen multiple times a day, sometimes I can go days between moments.  Every once in a while those moments are in front of people, but usually they're when I'm alone with my thoughts.  But I came to realize in the days, weeks, and months after our life was turned upside down that my life was forever changed and no matter what I did, I couldn't do anything about that.  In a strange way that was liberating for me.  Because I couldn't control what happened, I wanted to control my response to it.  There seemed to be 2 paths laid out for me.  Path #1 was a path filled with sadness,  bitterness, wishing for something that wasn't within my control.  Path #2 was to choose joy despite the sadness.  You see there is still sadness but joy is something I have chosen.  I may seem to be doing well, and to be honest, I am.  I'm not ashamed of that.  I chose path #2 for that very reason.  I will always miss Kellen, I will forever have a piece of me that's missing.  But I also have so much to be happy about, most importantly the 11 months we had with Kellen and the impact he made on this world in his short time.
I'm even reminded within my own home how differently people grieve.  I am proud of how Abe and I have encouraged Farrah to grieve in her own way.  The other day I was singing a song to Evan that I had made up and used to sing to Kellen and Farrah stopped me and said "Mom that song is for Kellen.  Don't forget about Kellen."  That stung.  Instead of justifying it away and trying to make myself feel better I just decided to be silent and allow her to say what she needed to say for her grief journey.
One of my favorite songs that I feel reflects my pain is called "The hurt and the Healer" by MercyMe.  It describes the feeling of when your hurt collides with your faith.

Why?
The question that is never far away
The healing doesn't come from the explained
Jesus please don't let this go in vain
You're all I have
All that remains

So here I am
What's left of me
Where glory meets my suffering

I'm alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I've fallen into Your arms open wide
When the hurt and the healer collide

Breathe
Sometimes I feel it's all that I can do
Pain so deep that I can hardly move
Just keep my eyes completely fixed on You
Lord take hold and pull me through

So here I am
What's left of me
Where glory meets my suffering

I'm alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I've fallen into your arms open wide
When the hurt and the healer collide

It's the moment when humanity
Is overcome by majesty
When grace is ushered in for good
And all the scars are understood
When mercy takes its rightful place
And all these questions fade away
When out of the weakness we must bow
And hear You say "It's over now"

I'm alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I've fallen into your arms open wide
When The hurt and the healer collide

Jesus come and break my fear
Awake my heart and take my tears
Find Your glory even here
When the hurt and the healer collide [x2]

Jesus come and break my fear
Awake my heart and take my tears
Find Your glory even here 


So to my fellow grieving friends, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are doing the best you can.  And that is enough.

21 days of #NoScrolling

Well hello, my friends!  Fancy this... I'm writing again!  No promises that you'll hear from me more frequently though.  This blog isn't something I take all that seriously, as evidenced by my last post being in March.  I don't write here to make money.  I write here when I want to update family and friends on what's happening in our lives, or when I need a little therapy session.  I guess you could say today is a little bit of both.
So much has happened that I almost don't even know where to begin.  I'll be a predictable mom and start with my kids.  Farrah is officially in Kindergarten.  She's been in school for a few weeks now and seems to be doing well.  I think she's starting to make friends and get into a groove.  I held it together relatively well that first day.  It's incredible how much parenting is about trusting.  Trusting that you've done enough leading up until this point that they'll be able to handle themselves without you there all day.  Trusting a teacher that you just met will be able to look after your child.  Trusting that the parents of the other kids in her class have done a decent job themselves so that the children in her class will be a good influence.  Trusting my daughter to start making some decisions on her own.  There have been so many moments over the past few weeks where I have had a deeper love and appreciation for my own parents.  It's not easy but we do the best we can.
Evan will be 10 months old in less than a week.  I am loving this age.  Other than a bad few days of teething it has been such an enjoyable time.  He's crawling now so he's loving to explore and play.  I could watch him forever.  His expressions are priceless.  It's hard to believe that in just over a month he will be 11 months.  Such a bittersweet time for us.  Kellen passed away on his 11 month birthday and we never got to experience a happy first birthday.  The idea that Evan is almost the same age as Kellen was is a very difficult thing for me to think about for so many reasons.  I'll save that for another post.  As I sit here writing, staring at Evan in the baby monitor, I have more joy in my heart than I have in the past 655 days.  Evan has been my angel here on earth.
Oh yes and then there's the grown ups.  Abe has been busy working on a few projects.  He is still the domestic engineer of the house and overall jack of all trades.  He has a side business, still DJ's from time to time, helps me in the office, and tears up the basketball court a few times a week.  So when people ask what he does all day.... yeah.  That's on top of taking care of 2 children.  He is basically my hero.
As for myself.  Where to begin.  My mother in law described me as someone who has an amazing ability to take on a challenge.  I've never thought of it that way but I'd have to agree with her.  I just finished up 2 back to back 6 week challenges at a local gym that included a strict diet and exercise plan and completed the challenges with 35 lbs lost and much stronger than I have ever been in a long time.
Let me back things up real quick.  I'm someone who makes quick decisions.  Call me crazy but I don't need a lot of details.  I go based on my feelings.  If I feel called to do something I do it.  And for that season of my life, that is what I needed to do.  I needed to prove to myself that I could finish something that I started and that I was stronger than I ever thought possible.  So even when it was clear that I wasn't going to hit my weight loss goal in the last week, I still stuck to the plan with the work outs and my fish and asparagus diet (yes, I only ate fish and asparagus for a week.)  Because what was important was that I finished.  I learned so much but am ready to move on to my next challenge.  This next phase is going to be one of professional growth.  I have a lot of people's dreams that are tied to mine and so I'm stepping out in faith that, just like my physical challenge that I just completed, I will also be able to finish this professional challenge.
My emotions have been all over the board lately.  I was trying to pin point what was causing it.  I'm sure it's a combination of a lot of things (my poor husband.)  But I have determined I'm not cut out for social media.  I'm too passionate.  And my heart breaks every time I start scrolling.  So this morning I decided to implement a "No scrolling" policy on social media.  If I want to see how someone's doing, I will find their profile to check it out, but I can't mindlessly scroll on facebook anymore.  Other than the obvious fact that it wastes precious time, I'm finding that it leaves me emotionally drained and sad.  Our country is so divided.  Everyone is so busy wanting to be right that they're saying things and posting "articles" that cause more division.  I'm sure I can't be the only one that feels this way.  So I'm inviting you to join me for 21 days of #NoScrolling.  I'm excited to see if I can feel a difference.
Life is too short to waste time.  Life is too short to be worked up about something.  Especially facebook.

 

30 for 30

I bet you all didn't know I was a cougar?  It's true.  I turned 30 last July and my husband turns 30 on Wednesday.  He's a hard person to plan anything for.  He doesn't really like to party (although he's a DJ) and he doesn't drink (despite this picture.... I had to memorialize a rare drink with a picture.)  So I decided instead to plan 30 fun things for us to do during the week of his 30th birthday.
To start things off I compiled a list of 30 reasons why I love my husband.  I could have kept writing after I finished which is even more reason for me to love him.
So if you don't know my husband very well you're about to.

1. He's an amazing husband.  And we're well past the honeymoon phase so you would think some of that would have died down.  I know that after God, I am the most important thing to him and I know he knows I feel the same about him.

2.  He is an amazing father.  I knew from the minute I met him he would be great but he's exceeded all of my expectations.  He's a hands on dad and our kids will hopefully realize one day how lucky they are to have him as their dad.

3. He's a lover, not a fighter.  This was tough for me at first because I had to learn he responds to conflict differently than I do.  When I would bring up something I wanted to "discuss" I would want a reaction from him, but he just doesn't have it in him to argue.  He thinks before he reacts.  He processes and wants to come up with a solution rather than argue.  Sickening I know! :)

4. He's incredibly smart.  I have already instructed Farrah that Daddy will be the one to ask for any help regarding math and science.  And when she gets to high school, probably everything.

5.  He knows how to make others feel important.  When you're in his space you can feel his sincerity and you leave a conversation with him feeling better about yourself.

6.  He has an amazing ability to teach.  He can come up with a quick game for pretty much any teaching scenario for kids to understand a concept.  There's usually a basketball reference in there too.

7. He's goofy.  He's not afraid to look silly or tell a dumb joke.

8.  He's great with kids (see # 7.)

9.  He's a great listener.  I'm sure he wasn't listening all those times I told a lengthy story, told him about something that happened at work, or vented, but he sure made it seem like he was.

10.  He is strong in his faith.  He's flexible when it comes to most things but when it comes to his faith, he doesn't waiver.

11. He knows who he is.  Is there anything sexier than someone with confidence in who they are? (sorry mom!)

12. He won't apologize for who he is.  I remember countless times where people have said "you don't drink???"  It's not a situation where he judges people that do.  He just doesn't really like it so he doesn't do it, and he doesn't feel the need to explain.

13.  He doesn't follow the herd.  This is one of my favorite things about him.  In college he took some Black Studies classes, enjoyed them and decided to make Black Studies his major.  In case you didn't notice, he's white.  It didn't matter to him that other people would think it was weird and I was so intrigued by this super white guy majoring in Black Studies.

14.  He would give anyone the shirt off his back.  He loves people.  He cares about people.  He wants to help people.

15.  He laughs at his own joke before he even finishes telling the joke.  It's really the cutest thing.  He starts to tell a joke but then starts laughing and oftentimes can't get the rest of the joke out.

16.  He balances me well.  We're very different in certain ways.  He needs details, I don't.  I make quick decisions.  Let me tell you about the peanut butter story.  One of my first experiences of his need to make an educated decision came in aisle 6 of the grocery store.  I had wandered around looking for something, probably a dessert of some kind, and when I went to find him I saw him in the peanut butter aisle staring at the backs of 2 different peanut butter jars reading the ingredients.  He sat there for probably 5 minutes deciding which peanut butter would be the best..... Peanut Butter!  I wanted to just walk over, grab one, throw it in the cart and be done with it but that's not how he rolls.  At least when we're learning a new game I can make him read the rules and give me the cliff notes version of what I'm supposed to do.

17.  He makes time for himself so he can be the best version of himself.  Whether its playing basketball, working out, writing, whatever he has to do to be the best version of himself so he can be the best husband and father.

18. People think he's quiet when they first meet him.  I did too.  Once they get to know him they find out how funny he is and that he has a lot to say.  He's just selective in who he shares that part of him with.

19. He allows me to do my thing but takes the reigns when I need him to.

20. He loves his mom.  I always think you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their family and he is a wonderful son and brother.  And it just so happens the icing on the cake is that I love his family.  Jackpot right?

21. He's a great friend.  Loyal is definitely a word I would use to describe him.  If one of his friends called him in the middle of the night and asked him to meet them somewhere with no explanation he would do it.

22. He's a very hard worker.  There have been many times when he would leave the house around 10am to work a gig, and not get home until 3am and then have to be back at work by 9 the next morning and he would never once complain.

23. He's optimistic.  He doesn't think about the worst case scenario.  He believes that everything will work out and it always does.

24.  Every decision he makes is based on what's best for his family.  Even down to which peanut butter to buy. :)

25.  He is so passionate about basketball.  I didn't grow up watching basketball so this was all new for me but I'm pretty obsessed myself now.  I didn't realize that basketball was a metaphor for everything in life but just ask him and he'll explain to you how everything relates to basketball.

26. He loves music.  Music is something I did grow up with but he's taught me about different types of music I would never have been exposed to if it weren't for him.  And I think I've brought him over to the country music side too.  Mission accomplished!

27.  He wants everyone to be happy.  Which is why he'll watch my stupid reality show, play dress up with Farrah, and give Evan raspberries until he laughs uncontrollably.  If he can make other people smile it makes him happy.

28.  He's got a hot body.  Enough said. (Sorry mom!)

29.  He never has a bad word to say about anybody.  He doesn't have it in him to try to bring someone down or hurt anyone.

30.  He's everything I ever dreamed of as a little girl when I thought about the man I would marry and I have no idea how I landed him.  The big man upstairs was looking out for me the day our paths crossed in that quiznos sandwich shop :)

Happy Birthday my love!  Looking forward to the next 30 years and beyond!

Stages

 Stages of life, stages of grief.  It all seems to be hitting me at once.  There are times when I think about Britney Spears' meltdown circa 2007 and think "You go Britney!  Shave that head!"  My husband mentioned to me the other day that most couples who go through any one of the things we're going through would be stressed, but we seem to do them all at once because that's just how we roll.  Grief, pregnancy, selling a house, grief, leaving a job, moving, grief, new baby, grief.
We're in a new stage with Evan.  We're attempting to begin transitioning Evan into his crib in his room.  We've started with his afternoon nap this week and last night we decided to try his first stretch at night in his crib.  Have you ever known someone that was in a car accident and after the accident they were afraid to ride in a car?  That's how I feel about cribs.  He has every possible monitor hooked up to him, no blankets, no crib bumper, he's on his back, so logically I should know that he's fine and even if he's not fine every bell, whistle and drum is going to go off so loudly that I wouldn't need to call 911 because they'd already hear the ridiculously loud alarms and yet, I couldn't remove this monitor from my hand.  When the screen would go to sleep I would immediately push the button again because there's no way I could get through it without staring at it.  I don't know when I'll be ready to have him in there at night while we're sleeping.

I've learned that grief is a living thing.  It evolves, it appears, it hides and it reappears again.  Never disappearing all together. When I think I'm doing fine is usually when a meltdown hits me.  So wish us luck in this new stage of life and grief.  And if you see me walking down the street wish a shaved head, just smile and nod.  Everybody deserves a good meltdown every once in a while.