You made it through

Dear one,
You made it through your first Thanksgiving without her. Without him. Your loved one that passed. Maybe Thanksgiving was a welcomed distraction from the sadness, the heartache. Or maybe it was so hard. Being around so many happy people, people trying to carry on normal conversations with you. Maybe it took every ounce of energy to fake those smiles, to pretend that the grief was not constantly on your shoulder. Maybe the food had no taste in your mouth, maybe you couldn't wait to get back home where everything was at least familiar and you didn't have to pretend.

But you did it. You showed up and you smiled and you hugged and you put nice clothes on and you did it.

And that's amazing.

Maybe you're heart was racing and maybe you had to stop at a park and get some fresh air and just pray for God to give your heart peace.
Yeah, maybe that was you.
And that's amazing too.

Holidays are hard.
It's okay to feel joy.
It's okay to also feel sad and confused and lonely and overwhelmed and guilty for smiling because your loved one is gone.
It's okay.

Hug often. Surround yourself with those that love you. Those that will make you a hot cup of tea and just love you.
And give yourself permission from here on out to avoid situations where people like to stir up strife. It's okay to say no to those events. Guard your heart, dear one.
Christmas is coming. You are going to do just fine. It will be hard. You will be sad. But there is joy to be found, I promise you that much. Take in the lights. The smells. The sounds. Allow yourself to remember. Even if it's been years since your last Christmas together, it's okay to remember.

Don't call it a party

Our little man turned one. I have no idea how it went so fast. I blinked and now he's a toddler. Cue the violins.

For Logan's first birthday, I went all out. I invited everyone I knew, stayed up into the wee hours of the night planning elaborate party games and making homemade decor. First kid syndrome. 

I didn't have it in me to do that this year. Between everything that went on in October, and my constant struggle to get some sleep, I just had no energy for a party. 

Instead, I made little man a fun birthday dinner on his actual birthday, and the following Saturday I had two of his little buddies from the nursery (and their families) out to the playground. That's it. No pinatas. No elaborate guest list. None of that hoopla. Just a couple of babies hanging out eating some gluten free cupcakes. 

It was quite possibly the best first birthday ever. I was able to really pay attention to everyone. Levi wasn't overwhelmed, because there wasn't a crowd. Just a few little buddies. 

I may keep birthdays this way from now on. 

  Happy to be ONE!

Gluten free cupcakes. Kind of gross, but he loved them!

We love mustaches.

Big brother is growing up!

All smiles

The fabulous Kennedy family. 

The dads. All smiling! I love it!

A picture with GG. 

Beautiful friends, Jen and Christina. 

Happy birthday, sweet Levi! We love you so much!

A prayer for the overwhelmed mom

Thank you, Father, for loving me right where I am. Just as I am. 90 something pounds of anxiousness, stress, uncertainty. You love me even though I fail day after day. Even though I'm not a good cook, I can't keep a spotless home, my car keeps breaking, and I say bad words. Even though the future scares the living daylights out of me. 
You love me. 
And you say I am enough. 
Right where I am. 
You don't compare me to others. 
Because my story is different. 
It was always meant to be different. 

You knew all along every painful event of 2014, way before I was on this earth.
You've counted every tear, you've understood prayers I couldn't put into words.
You've heard my heart.

You know it all.
And you love me.
I am enough.
Right now.
Not when I get it all together.
Not when our checking account looks better.
Not when I can finally cook fancy meals.
NOW.
I am so grateful for the now. 
It seems like everyone else has it all figured out.
I don't.
I'm grateful for a savior who does.

Guest Star Tuesday

I read this today and it changed my whole outlook. Be encouraged by her words today!

Like an elephant on the chest

I don't know how to write this, but I know I need to.
Two weeks and a couple of days ago, my dad died in his sleep.
We didn't know he had cancer. He didn't know.
I was walking around the lake with my husband, my kids and my in-laws when I got the call from my brother. My knees buckled and I let myself fall to the ground.
Dad was gone. I sobbed. Right in the middle of a crowded park. People asked if I was okay. I didn't even notice them.
Dad was handsome. Dad was brilliant.
Dad was an alcoholic for most of my life.
Dad and I hadn't seen each other in nearly six years.
Dad knew I loved him. I loved him so much, in fact, that it ate me up inside to see him in such sorrow. About four years ago, I told him that I loved him too much to see him in such a dark place. I begged him, BEGGED him to get help, but I told him I couldn't save him, HE had to make the choice.
He found a church.
He walked in to a men's group and poured out his heart. Told them he was ready to change. That he couldn't do it on his own.
My dad went from someone who hated church to someone that spoke openly, enthusiastically about a risen Jesus.
My dad spent his last couple of years on this earth feeding the homeless. Volunteering at a women's shelter. Mowing elderly people's lawns.
My dad was a changed man.
My heart breaks for what could have been. I wish we could have hugged and I wish I could have told him how proud I was of him. But as my pastor told me last week, we have all of eternity to make things right.
My heart is so heavy, sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe. As C.S. Lewis said, "No one ever told me grief felt so like fear."
 I went down and spoke to the men's group that changed his life. I thanked them. We cried together. I felt peace for a little bit. I gave a bunch of hugs to some men I had never met. I felt gratitude. They were the hands and feet of Jesus to him when no one else could be.
I don't think this kind of loss is something to get over. I think we just learn how to carry it.
I'm sad we didn't get to make things right. I'm sad he never got to meet my kids.
But one day, we'll have eternity.
Until then I just have to remember to smile at everyone, because I may be the only light they see that day.

Our life, in tangents

Blogging was easier before I had two kids. I used to write long, artsy posts about my innermost thoughts....no time for that anymore. Here's life in 10 little tangents:

-We had the stomach flu this past week. Thankful it happened while we still have our insurance, thankful for an awesome pediatrician and thankful that it seems to be gone now.

-When you don't sleep, everything will make you cry. This applies to the 29 year old as well as the 4 year old.

-2 kids may not seem like a lot, but it's been a whole different ball game than 1. There is always someone needing me, always a snack to prepare or a diaper to change or a bath to draw or a book to read or tiny laundry to do....I have never felt as needed as I do now. Or as tired. Or as fulfilled.

-It's been one of the most expensive months ever for team Gable. Between my dental work and my car breaking down and doctor's visits...we are having to get frugal like never before. We've also been so blessed at how God has provided.

-I'm learning how to say no. I don't have to volunteer for everything, I don't have to say yes to everything, and sometimes saying no is the BEST thing for my family. They come first.

-Kitchen remodels take a crazy long time, and they are really, really messy.

-I don't watch much television, but I've recently started watching old episodes of Arrested Development and I am hooked.

-Ben and I haven't been on a date in a year and a half. Unless you count the trip to the hospital to have the baby.

-Homeschooling is going well, but it's different than I thought it would be. Our biggest challenge is handwriting, but I know that's partly because L is only 4. He is very curious and loves learning, but does not necessarily love sitting still.

-I love, LOVE having a baby in the house, and it's going by way too quickly this time around. And I secretly have a tiny bit of baby fever again, although I don't think another Gable is in the cards for us. I just love babies! All their smooshiness (not a word but it should be) is just nirvana to me.

When you find yourself crying in your in-law's guest room

Labor Day weekend started out innocently enough. Logan had had a sleepover at Ben's parent's house, so we went over Saturday morning to get him. He had a stellar time and didn't miss us one bit. "Just the baby" he told us time and time again (thanks, kid:) ). We got some home projects done, I mowed the grass, it was a boring, hot Saturday. Sunday we went to church, out to lunch with lovely new friends, and worked on the house some more. MONDAY, ugh. Monday. Labor Day. May I have a do-over please? Monday just needs to be forgotten.

I had been up all night with Levi, who kept crying due to that top tooth that just won't pop through. One a.m. Three a.m. Five a.m. So I was already a little grumpy. We had the brilliant idea to drive to Orlando to get some tile from a discount tile store, because we're redoing our kitchen and our budget is peanuts but we really want to sell this place. So we went. And we bought 75 dollars worth of slate. Which looks pretty cool actually. Well, the cart was too heavy for me to push, so Ben went to pull the van around. He came back five minutes later without the van. He said we had a problem. That's never good to hear him say. Our van was broken, the part was roughly 350 dollars and if we didn't get it the van just wouldn't work again. 

Now, we had our boys with us. And it was hotter than Hades. Trust me. The boys were sweating, Levi was crying, and I was worrying. 

Bless his heart, Ben's dad came to rescue us. He towed us all the way to his house. I sat in the back seat of his van and thought "Don't you dare cry in your father-in-law's van. He didn't ask for this. He is helping you. Pull it together, Gable."

So I didn't. I waited until we got to their house, I walked back to the guest room, and I bawled my eyes out. It wasn't just the stupid part for the car or the heat or the embarrassment of breaking down once again. It was a million little things. It's been a rough year. Hospital bills. My teeth. The gluten allergy that we didn't even know about. The no sleep. The lack of money. The lady at the dentist that made a pass at my husband when I was RIGHT THERE (another post). I just couldn't hold it together anymore. Ben walked in and asked what was wrong. I had no words, really. Sometimes you don't. The funny part came when my brother-in-law burst in, looking for an exercise ball and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw us crying. I laughed. He laughed. It made everything better somehow.

The other humorous thing.....we were dressed.....like we maybe shouldn't be at Ben's parent's house. They were having a dinner party and we essentially crashed it. Ben was wearing a shirt with no sides and cutoffs. You could see his tattoos and all the grease all over him from working on the van. I was wearing tight jeans and a zebra print tube top. I kid you not. The counselor said I need to make an effort in how I dress for Ben because not caring about my appearance is NOT helping ( I guess no makeup and gym shorts are no longer cute). SO I was dressed like maybe I should be anywhere but my conservative in-law's house. Oh, and the kids? Well, Levi pooped through his two outfits we had packed for the quick trip to Orlando. Logan was covered in chocolate milk. We were a sight. 

I'm not sure what the point to this post was, except to say that when you're feeling overwhelmed, it's okay to cry in your in-law's guest room until you get it all out. And maybe, if you're pushing thirty, just say no to the zebra print tube top from Wal Mart. You're not doing yourself any favors.