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.

Why I'll be parenting a little differently in 2015

Have you done it yet?  Have you made your new year's resolutions?  I love the idea of self improvement.  I probably singlehandedly keep the self help book industry afloat.  I just love the idea of constantly bettering myself.
But this year will be a little different for me.  If 2013 was the worst year of my life, then I would say 2014 was the hardest year of my life.  Time forces you to move on after the death of a child.  It doesn't matter if you're ready, life goes on, the world keeps moving, and no matter how much you want to just stay right where you're at, you can't.
I had a moment yesterday that made me think about my self improvement attitude.  It came when I asked Farrah why she had a band aid on her knee, to which she responded "I fell and hurt myself but it's ok, I'm fine, I got back up.  That's what happens when you get older Evan, you get hurt, but you get back up."
It's something we all teach our kids, right?  You fall and you get back up.  A noble message.  But what about when something happens to them, that knocks the wind out of them?  That completely turns their world upside down?  I want my kids to know, it's ok to stay down for a while.  I realized in that moment, I never explained to Farrah that she doesn't have to pop back up instantly all the time.
A few weeks ago, if you would have asked Farrah what she wanted for Christmas, she would have told you all she wants is her brother back.  Let that soak in for a moment.  As most people were out lining up weeks before black Friday to score a deal on a TV or an iPad, or fighting over a waffle iron at Walmart, my little girl was asking for something no one can give her. She hasn't popped back up yet.
My anxiety about the safety of my family is still just as strong now as it was the day after Kellen passed.  I haven't popped back up yet.  Some things are laughable, I'm sure.  Even I can have a sense of humor about it.  The other day Farrah got her first loose tooth (I know, I had to do a double take when I saw it because I can't believe she's old enough for that).  After seeing it, my first thought was "what if it falls out in the middle of the night and she chokes on it?"  Seems kind of far fetched but that's where my mind goes now.  I haven't popped back up yet.  Making sure my children are breathing is on my mind ALL.DAY.LONG.  I'm not exaggerating with this one.  I think about it all the time.  There is no logical reason why a perfectly healthy kid, who falls asleep in the car would stop breathing, but there have been multiple times that I actually pulled the car over, got out of the car and ran around to their seats to poke them to make sure they were still breathing.
I'm don't think I'll ever pop back up from this one, and I'm not sure that I even want to.  So for those of you that have been through the wringer this year, you may be happy that 2015 is on the horizon, as am I.  Just remember to take the time you need.  There are times when you should dust yourself off and move forward.  And then there are times when it's ok to give yourself permission to stay down for a while.
Happy New Year, my friends!  I sincerely mean that.  I wish you a new year of comfort.  Whatever that is for you.

Grumpy Mommy

Hi friends..... we're friends, right?  So I can be real on here.  It has been a rough few days.  It is possible for all of my real life friends that all they're going to be seeing of the Naldjian family over the next year will be on facebook and on this blog.  You see, according to the vast internet research my husband did, and the cliffnotes version he gave me (which basically makes me an expert), we have a colicky baby on our hands.  This is new territory for me.  I had milk supply issues with Farrah, Acid reflux issues with Kellen, and now colic issues with Evan.  I remember when I was pregnant, sitting under the hair dryer at my salon doing a little light reading in US magazine about Kristin Cavallari (don't judge... remember we're friends) and she said her son never stopped crying the entire first year and I thought "Wow, that sucks but she must be doing something wrong.  No baby cries all the time for no reason."  False!
Evenings are the worst.  From about 4pm to midnight every night if he's not asleep (which during this time frame he may take a couple of 10 minute naps at most), or he doesn't have a boob in his mouth, he's crying.  We've resorted to putting him in the baby carrier and turning on the blow dryer to get him to fall asleep and today while I was gone, Abe had to put him in the swing and turn on the vacuum just to get him to calm down.  
But that's not what has me grumpy.  Well maybe just a little grumpy, but even more than that is that all of my internet research tells me I need to get rid of dairy from my diet to help his colic.  No dairy? Come again?!  Dairy is the one and only reason I could never be a vegan.  I could care less about meat, but cheese?  Ice cream?  Delicious, overpriced coffee beverages?  That is not ok in my book.  Do you know how many things contain dairy products?  Pretty much everything... I checked.
You know what doesn't have dairy in it though?  Wine.  So I bought some at the store today.  I may be partaking in a glass tonight.  I invite you all to drink a hard alcoholic beverage tonight in our honor.  Remember, I'll have a baby attached to me all night so 1 glass of wine is all this mom can have.
And now my baby has woken up from a 10 minute nap.  Until our next social media rendevoux my friends....

(Almost) 3 weeks of Evan

Sleepless nights, endless feedings (both the baby and me), baby talk, no clue why he's crying.... ahh yes... it's all coming back to me.  Life with a newborn again has been crazy but fun.  I have completely fallen in love with a little guy who couldn't pick me out of a line up at this point and I'm completely ok with that.
The delivery was very emotional as you probably could have guessed.  I'm much more aware of the preciousness of life and how something could easily go wrong.  I was worried about the baby and myself.  But we're just fine.  The nurses and doctors were all so wonderfully understanding of our circumstances.  And when they placed him on my chest for the first time and I said "he looks like Kellen," I'm pretty sure there wasn't a dry eye in the room.
And then came the time to leave the hospital and take this perfect little person home with us.  I've always tried to be very honest on this blog so I'm not afraid to admit that the first week was very hard.  And not the typical things new parents complain about, lack of sleep, needing a break, etc.  But it was very difficult for me because I was so worried and anxious about him.  Neither Abe or I was comfortable with him sleeping without one of us watching him so we took turns in the middle of the night being awake while he slept and we just watched him.  I knew going into this that that would be difficult but I didn't know how difficult.  A couple nights in I was watching him sleep, swaddled up tight when his arms escaped out the top and the swaddle blanket came up over his face.  I jumped up to move it out of his face and he went back to sleep.  I sat there and sobbed. Postpartum hormones are no joke but add anxiety over the safety of your child to that and it will take it's toll.  So that was the end of the swaddle blankets.
Thankfully the anxiety has subsided a bit (definitely not all the way but a bit).  We have a monitor attached to him when he sleeps that gives us peace of mind but also freaks us out if it goes off as a false alarm.  Needless to say when we are sleeping, we sleep very lightly and constantly wake up to check him.  Abe and I have many middle of the night "speed dates" when I wake up to poke the baby and make sure he's breathing and I see Abe is awake and doing the same thing.

 And then there's the love.  As any mom will explain, I have no favorite child.  I love all my children equally and each time I have another one, my heart somehow creates enough space for each of them to have 100% of my heart.  Just trust me on the math.  But when I think about the love I have for Evan, it is different than anything I've experienced before.  I have a healthy obsession with this little guy.  I want to stare at him all day long.  There is something amazing that he has done to help heal my heart when it seemed that nothing in the world could possibly help repair what I had lost.  I don't want him to feel the burden of being the "savior child."  I don't want him to feel like his only purpose on earth was to make his mom and dad feel better.  But I will say that he has done for us what nothing else possibly could.  I now fully understand the value of life and I will have a deeper love for this little guy than I ever could have imagined all thanks to his big brother.  I realize how lucky we are to have him and that our tomorrows aren't promised.  We are soaking up every moment with him.  Even the 2am wake up call... and the 3am wake up call... and the 4am wake up call :)
Baby faces, baby snuggles, unconditional love.... ahh yes... it's all coming back to me.

1 year later

I realize I haven't updated my blog in a while.  There's a lot to share with Mr. Evan's arrival but today, for me, is about Kellen.  Exactly one year ago I woke up to every parent's worst nightmare.  I'd love to say that day was a blur, but I remember every detail of that day and could probably give you a minute by minute account of all the details if you ask.  To this day I still can't set my alarm for 6:15 am because that's the time that my alarm went off that morning and I panicked realizing he hadn't woken up for his feeding in the middle of the night. 

We have survived.  Most people would have understood if we crawled into a hole and just existed the rest of our lives.  But we have chosen to live and I'm pretty damn proud of us.  I struggle with the message we give that you could possibly lose a child and still live a full life.  But I know that choosing joy in our lives will never take away the pain of losing a piece of our hearts.  

When I was recovering in the hospital after having Evan, they sent a social worker into my room to chat with me.  I knew it was coming.  I'm sure my file has all kinds of red flags in it.  She said the Doctor's wanted her to talk to me because they were concerned I may not have had enough time to grieve before having another baby.  While the intentions were genuine, I shook my head thinking there is no expiration on grief.  I will forever grieve the loss of my son.  No amount of time will pass where I'll feel better and be ready to be done with this grief thing.  However, I heard a song on the radio that put words around how I'm feeling now.  It's by Danny Gokey and as I drove in my car I listened to the words of the song and stared at the new sleeping baby in the rear view mirror and the tears would not stop coming.  

"I've been running through rain
That I thought would never end.
Trying to make it on faith
In a struggle against the wind.
I've seen the dark and the broken places.
But I know in my soul
No matter how bad it gets
I'll be alright.

There's hope in front of me
There's a light, I still see it.
There's a hand still holding me
Even when I don't believe it.
I might be down but I'm not dead.
There's better days still up ahead.
Even after all I've seen
There's hope in front of me.

There's a place at the end of the storm
You finally find.
Where the hurt and the tears and the pain
All fall behind.

You open up your eyes and up ahead
There's a big sun shining.
Right then and there you realize
You'll be alright.

There's hope in front of me.
There's a light, I still see it.
There's a hand still holding me.
Even when I don't believe it.
I might be down but I'm not dead.
There's better days still up ahead.
Even after all I've seen
There's hope in front of me.

There's a hope still burning
I can feel it rising through the night,
And my world's still turning
I can feel your love here by my side.

You're my hope
You're the light, I still see it
Your hands are holding me
Even when I don't believe it.
I've got to believe.
I still have hope.
You are my hope."

I love you my sweet Kellen.  1 year later.... forever more.  Until we meet again. 

11 months here, 11 months gone

Exactly 11 months ago, on his 11 month birthday, Kellen passed away.  In a way I've been quietly dreading this day more than the upcoming 1 year anniversary.  There's a significance to this day that gives me an uneasy feeling.  Starting tomorrow he will have been gone longer than he was here. 
The 29th is going to be an interesting day these next few months.  This month is the 11 months here/11 months gone day, next month is the 1 year anniversary, and the following month would be his 2nd birthday.  My greatest fear about today is that now that he's been gone longer than he was here, I'll be expected to move on.  That this time that has passed somehow erases the time he was here.  I can't speak for all grieving parents, but I feel strongly that part of the battle I go through is between wanting so badly to "feel normal" again and "move on" but being sickened by the idea of the possibility that I could ever move on.  There is no moving on. 
So 11 months later, I think I'll spend this day remembering the 11 months I had with him.  Our new house has little touches of him that make us smile.  His star map given to us by a dear friend that had a star named after him.

 Our joy sign to remind us of the joy he brought us.  Joy upon joy upon joy.

 And my jewelry box with his picture on it given to me by a family member that I see every morning when I get ready.  He was a true mama's boy. 

Life is unpredictable friends.  11 months from now your life could be completely different than it is now.  Enjoy the time you have with the people you love.  Whether you're at work or at home, be in the moment.  Your life deserves your attention. 

Prepping for baby Evan

We have about 3 1/2 weeks until Evan's expected arrival.  Dare I say I am so ready?  I'm feeling huge.... like giant status.  These past few days have been a little better because I can tell he's dropped a little.  Not so high up in my ribs.  When you sound out of breath putting on your shoes, that's a problem. 

 

We had a doctor's appointment yesterday.  Everything looks great!  Heartbeat is good, his head is down  and measuring right on schedule.  Now we wait.
I can't wait to see what he looks like.  I think it will feel more real when I can see his face.  I wonder if he will look like his sister, his brother, or his own little self.  Farrah definitely has the darker features from her daddy's side and Kellen had some of the lighter features from both of us. 
I am pretty nervous.  I have no idea what emotions will surface during the delivery and adjusting to life going from 1 to 2 kids at home again.  I hate to say it but I got used to being a mom of 1 again.  1 person to give all my attention to.  Now I'll have 2 to devote my time to.  It's a strange yet familiar feeling. 
I keep referring to Evan as Kellen by accident.  In fact when I first wrote the title of this blog I wrote Kellen by accident instead of Evan.  Abe does the same thing.  I'm sure once he's here and I can see him, my brain will start working again.  At least I hope.  I want him to be his own person.  I don't want him to be his brother's replacement.  He deserves his own story.  He is a gift from God. And like the meaning of his name says, "God is good." 
Evan's room is pretty much ready for him, we've got the diapers, the itty bitty clothes, and all the things that make you say "oooh... ahhhh" at a baby shower.  We're as ready as we can be here in the house, we'll just have to take it one day at a time once you come home with us. 
Farrah couldn't be more excited.  I'm looking forward to seeing her make the face again she used to make when she was around Kellen.  This look of pure joy that you can't possibly contain when you want to squeeze a cute baby but restrain yourself.  That's the best way I can describe that face. 
Lots to look forward to in our house.  We have a lot of people rooting for us.  We couldn't possibly be more grateful.  Just don't be offended when I bathe you in hand sanitizer when you come to visit after he comes.  This chick is a paranoid 3rd time mama. :)

Twice the grief

I was driving the other day down the country road that leads to our new house.  I've found this time I've been spending driving down this road has been filled with thoughts about Kellen, thoughts about life now, and pretty much any deep thinking I do. 
On this particular day I started thinking about everyone else that Kellen's death has effected.  There have been many people that have told me how much Kellen's death has impacted them. I am forever grateful for the number of lives he touched.  But on this day I was thinking of the lives he impacted while he was still here.... close friends and family. 
Someone suggested a book to me entitled "Grandparents cry twice: Help for bereaved grandparents."  While I haven't read it yet, I understand the concept, and on this particular drive on this particular day it got my mind racing.  How difficult is must be for my parents and Abe's parents.  They are grieving the loss of their grandson, and at the same time they are grieving for us.  As parents all we want to do is protect our kids from harm.  Heck there are times I'm at the playground with Farrah and some random kid won't give her a turn on the swing and it tugs at my heartstrings.  I can't imagine watching your children suffer such deep pain knowing there's nothing you can do.  They certainly don't get the kind of attention they deserve in this process.  In typical parent fashion, their pain takes a back seat to ours. 
And then there's the aunts and the uncles.  The ones who got to spoil him, play with him, love him, and give him back to his parents at the end of the day.  They knew only the fun, the love and the joy and then they get the crushing blow when they got the call that day.  I'm sure they longed for more time with him, as we all did.  I'm sure they try to make sense of it all, as we all do.  They experience the same sadness, anger and confusion we all do. 
Of course, we have our friends.  The ones who love our kids as if they're their own.  And now he's gone and not only do they grieve his loss, but they're left with different friends.  I'm not naïve to think Abe and I are the same friends we were before this happened.  Abe and I took vows, for better or worse.  Our friends don't have to love us through it.  There are still days when I'm in a mood and can't bear much of anything, and I wouldn't fault them for being over it.  But they somehow seem to understand.  They're still there despite it all. 
Miss Farrah has not forgotten either.  I'm happy in a sense, because I never want her to forget her brother, but I hate to see her hurting in any way.  Because of her age, I think people brush her grief aside.  But she has real feelings and real hurt.  She asked her teacher at school the other day if they could write a note to Kellen in heaven so they did.  She likes to draw pictures of him.  And sometimes, if she's in a silly mood, she will pretend like he's here playing with her. 
I have not forgotten that you all played a huge part of his life and I imagine his death has effected you more than others think.  Thank you for loving us through this.  Kellen was so blessed to be surrounded by so much love.

Vows

This past weekend we attended my cousin's wedding.  It was a beautiful outdoor wedding in the Napa Valley in the middle of a vineyard.  As we sat listening to the happy couple recite their vows, surrounded by millions of grapes and lots of couples who had recited similar vows on their own special days, I couldn't help but squeeze Abe's hand just a little tighter.  We've all heard that we're supposed to love each other for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and so on and so forth.  I wonder what most people think of when they get to that part.  I'll be the first to admit that I was pretty naïve when I thought about what obstacles we may have to overcome.  I expected the standard financial struggles, job changes and moves.  We're good people.  I guess I didn't think about really bad things happening.  Those types of things don't happen to people like us. 
We woke up in the middle of the night when the big earthquake hit.  Our hotel room was shaking all around but thankfully there was no damage.  We went back to sleep and woke up the next morning to learn of some of the devastating damage in many parts of Napa.  Some people lost their homes and everything in it.  Others were critically injured.  For better or for worse.  Vows put to the test. 
I hope that we've had to deal with the worst of it.  But I also know we're only barely 30 and hopefully have a lot of life left.  Our vows have certainly been tested.  Not just the grief of losing a child, but both of our post traumatic stress demons we carry after finding our son the way we did.  I wouldn't blame him for taking it out on me and I'm sure he wouldn't either.  But we're coming up on a year since it happened and, so far, I can say we have loved each other for worse... there hasn't been much better. 

Our son Evan will be here in less than 2 months and we'll embark on the stressful journey of a newborn.  In my previous life, I categorized that under the "for worse" part of marriage.  Lack of sleep, crying (mostly the baby but sometimes me when I don't get sleep), and the tendency to snap at your partner.  But in my new life I'm considering this to be a "for better" part.  I'll just squeeze Abe's hand a little tighter and keep on going, for better or for worse.

Selfishness

It feels good to be writing again!  It sounds silly because of all of the things going on in the world but we've been living without internet for the past several weeks and it stinks!  Who knew how much we rely on it, especially working from home?! 
We're finally getting settled in our new home.  It's taking some adjustment to get used to the new set up, the new neighborhood and all that comes along with it but it's starting to feel like home. 
We still don't have blinds up because it's a brand new house so I tend to wake up early when the sun comes up.  The other night, or morning I suppose, I laid in bed as the sun was rising and I was thinking about the choices we've made in the aftermath of October 29th, and I was proud to say, we've been a bit selfish.  I'm sure many people haven't understood some of the choices we've made.  Some have been quiet if they didn't agree and some have raised some eyebrows.  I will never feel the need to justify our choices to anyone.  So when I get the raised eyebrows I smile and bite my tongue.  I could go on an on explaining it away but what's the point?  Not many people have had to walk our path, and I hope they never have to. 
Was it hard for us to leave a home so close to our best friends in the world?  Absolutely!  Was it hard for Abe to walk away from a good paying job to be home?  Yes, and no :).  Is it hard for me to turn down playdates from time to time knowing that I'm taking my business in a new direction so I need to focus on growing it?  Definitely!  Do we have mixed feelings about having another baby so quickly?  Of course!  We're happy and we're sad.  Don't know that waiting any longer would have changed those emotions.  We are different people now.  Our priorities have shifted.  For however long it takes we need to be selfish right now.  My sole focus is my family.  Maybe that makes me a bad friend... I hope not.  I hope others understand.  We have the opportunity now for us to live the life we dreamed before Kellen passed.  And quite frankly, I'm mad I didn't try to make it happen sooner.  Kellen is my example that life is precious and sometimes, way too short. 
I have been known to be a people pleaser in the past.  I just love to keep the peace and see people happy.  But I have to say, it feels good to be selfish every once in a while.  You should try it sometime!

This one's for you little man!  Living our lives to the fullest since yours was cut short. 

My grown up girl

My Dear Farrah,
This is something you probably won't understand now but someday you will.  As a parent, we've all had those moments when we just stare at our kids in amazement at how and when they managed to get so big.  This happened to me again yesterday and I was just staring at your long legs, your polished toes, your hand motions and mannerisms and thought "when did she get so big?"  5 years ago I had just found out that our baby was going to be a little girl.  I was thinking about all the frilly dresses, hair bows, dance lessons and princesses that I would experience in the next several years and while that is all true, I had no idea how much more you would bring to our lives.  I didn't realize that at only 4 1/2 years old you would be a little person, with ideas, thoughts to share and so much intelligence crammed into such a little body.  One minute you will have me rolling on the floor laughing from one of your many Farrahisms and the next minute you have me tearing up over something so thought provoking I can't wrap my brain around how it came from a preschool kid. 
People ask me how I seem to be doing ok considering our devastating loss and all I can think of is you.  You force me to see things differently.  I want to be just like you when I grow up. 
Yesterday you had an "off" day.  While most people would probably put their kid in time out and throw their hands up in the air, I realize that you have experienced a lot in your short lifetime and decided to read you a children's book about dealing with the death of a loved one in case that's where your frustration was coming from.  As we were reading I was overwhelmed with emotion and could not get through it without tears the whole time.  You saw my tears and asked if I was sad.  I explained that I was and it was ok to be sad.  I asked if you were sad and you responded with "Well I miss Kellen but when I find myself getting sad I change my attitude and remember that it was Kellen's time to go to heaven.  He just wanted to see what it was like there before us.  And someday I will have so much time with him when I get there.  That's what I think when I'm sad mom."  How wise you are my sweet girl. 
Pretty soon we'll be in our new house and we'll have a new baby to welcome to our family.  But I have no doubt that you will never forget your sweet brother Kellen and that makes my heart happy.  You even asked if he was going to have a room in the new house because you're just that great of a big sister. 
Sometimes you have questions I can't answer.  Like our recent drive when you asked when we were going to heaven and I said I didn't know but I hoped not for a long time because we had a lot left to do on earth and we wanted to be here to watch her new baby brother grow up.  Then you hit me with "Well how come my other baby brother doesn't get to watch our new baby grow up?"  I hope that you're never afraid to ask me questions or talk about things just because you're afraid it might make me sad.  I love that you even think to ask such in depth questions. 
Besides the dresses and bows and all things girly, I never knew a child could be so caring, so wise, such a lover of the color purple, such a great friend and could leave such a stamp on my heart the way you have.  Everyone who knows you sees it.  You are a very special girl. 
Love you higher than the sky,
Mommy

Dirty 30

30 something.... not sure I'm used to the sound of that yet.  This past weekend I celebrated my 30th birthday.  Very different from my 29th birthday celebration.  As you can probably tell from the differences between my surprise 29th birthday party pictures...

...and my 30th birthday picture

This year I had to turn down for the sake of my 26 week baby bump.  What a difference a year makes. 
I had plans for what I wanted to see happen by the time I turned 30.  If you know me, you've probably experienced my control freakishness.  I always knew I wanted to be a young mom.  Not Guinness Book of World Records young or anything, but I figured I would be done having kids by the time I turned 30. 
Last night as I was sitting on my couch, staring at our blank walls and packed boxes getting ready for our move I thought about the magnitude of October 29th, 2013.  It isn't just an event that we live with, but an event that has changed the course of our lives.  You may have heard me talk about the difficulties we had with Kellen during my pregnancy and his 11 months.  I won't lie, they were enough for us to decide that we were probably done having kids even though we had always thought we'd have at least 3.  Not long after Kellen left us, I knew I wanted to have more kids.  We needed it as part of our healing process and Farrah desperately wanted to be a big sister again.  It was right for us.  So here I am, expecting baby number 3 past my 30 year old cut off.  Life has a way of changing your well-designed plans. 
Since October 29th, Abe has left his full time sometimes 60-80 hr a week job and now is a domestic dad that works part time when he chooses to take shifts to do what he loves by giving a bride and groom the ultimate dance party on their big day.  And now, we're on the move.  It's something we always knew would come eventually but the idea of bringing a new baby home to this house, in his room, with his memories became too much and we have decided to move on and make new memories in a new house. 
My twenties were very good to me.  Love, marriage, houses, careers, babies and a lot of laughter.  But I will raise a glass of apple cider in hopes that my thirties are even better.  I don't know what tomorrow brings and I now know I certainly can't plan everything, but I can still have hope. 

Strengths and Weaknesses

How on earth is it already July?  The best thing about July for me is that it means fall is almost here!  (Well in my mind that's what I tell myself to distract myself from how ridiculously hot it is.)  One year ago to the day I had this strong desire to get silly matching red, white and blue outfits for every member of my family, set up the camera on automatic and take pictures together.  I guess for some patriotic, good old American family pictures.  Can't explain why I wanted to do this so much.  I love pictures but I'm not one to feel the need to take themed pictures for every holiday.  Whatever the reason, I'm glad we did.  What resulted was one of my favorite family pictures of us. 

Kellen was happy because his mama was holding him, and we all somehow managed to look at the camera at the same time.  My goodness, does this picture make me smile.

I won't lie, it's been a rough past few days. Kellen has not left my mind.  It started a couple morning's ago at my Doctor's appointment.  As I was sitting in the waiting room I noticed a dad walking around with his toddler son, I assume waiting for his wife to come out of her appointment.  I instantly thought of Kellen.  He would have been about the same age as this little boy and to see him walking around got that burning feeling in my chest going.  And then the little boy started saying "Mama! Mama!" over and over again and that's when I couldn't keep it in anymore.  The burning in my chest moved up my throat and the tears came down uncontrollably.  Thankfully no one was close enough to me to notice.  I've gotten to a place where for the most part I feel strong.  I can go about my day functioning like a normal person and I can take care of my daughter and be the best wife I can be.  And then there are moments like these when I feel like I'm so weak I can't stand. 

In my previous life I would hear about people losing children and, as most people do, you think "I can't even imagine what that would be like."  But really what you're imagining is indescribable pain, you just have never felt it.  I can attest that it is worse than I ever imagined.  I feel like I'm trapped in a well a mile below the surface knowing there is no way to climb out but still trying over and over again, hoping I can somehow get out of it.  Seeing the light but it's just unattainable.  Weak because I feel helpless, strong because I'm surviving. 

Not long after Kellen left us, we took Farrah to Starbucks to treat her to a Frappuccino and as we were sitting with our drinks I noticed a woman staring at us.  Not in a creepy way, but I could tell she had a sincere sweetness to her.  As we were finishing up she came over and said "I just want you to know, you have a beautiful family and your daughter is beautiful."  She smiled and walked away.  Afterwards I thought about what would have prompted her to notice us and to say that to us.  Had she lost a daughter and seeing Farrah brought back memories?  I'm not sure.  It could have just been a nice lady saying something nice to some people who really needed a lot of love.  I truly hope I can get to a place where instead of tears streaming when I see a little boy clumsily walking around and saying his first words that I can smile like this lady and say "You have a beautiful son."  For now I understand my weaknesses will probably outweigh my strengths and I'm ok with spontaneous tears now and then.  I am human, afterall.