Sunday, June 30, 2013

June 30

On nasty, hot days when the mercury rises over the 100-degree marker, it's hard not to be a grouch. I'm simply not built for heat. But some living things are, like my now-enormous tomato plant. And like this crepe myrtle tree that lives in my yard.

The blooms are lovely, but they probably wouldn't be quite as stunning without the heat and the sun. So though it's not my favorite, I can tolerate the high temperatures if it means I can see more pretty things. :)

And how is this a God wink? Well, it reminded me of the give and take inherent in this life. We may give up some conveniences --in this case, cooler temps-- but what we get in return can sometimes be well-worth the sacrifice.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

June 29

It was wretchedly hot out today. So it stands to reason that ice would be a huge blessing. :)

It's cool, crunchy and refreshing. And it serves as a terrific means of helping to beat the heat; of bringing relief. It's that simple.

Friday, June 28, 2013

June 28

I was dismayed this morning when I came downstairs and discovered that Brady had taken it upon himself to open a few of Logan's cars. It may seem silly, but I still buy die-cast cars for him, and usually they stay packaged, not because I think he'll ever open them, but because, well, it makes me feel better. Like I'm still doing things for him. Anyway, I was annoyed.

But as I watched him line up the newly freed Corvettes, I felt my heart change.

And it tickled me to once again realize how much Brady and his biggest brother have in common. Their shared love of cars is steely-strong. And I just know that Logan would've loved to watch his littlest brother making parking lots and coursing them over the couch cushions. And for all of those things, I'm thankful.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

June 27

Thankfully, I felt much, much better today. Almost normal, in fact. Double thankfully, no one else has shown any kind of indication that they're about to puke, so hopefully (oh, please God, please) we're in the clear.

This morning, we took a field trip to the playground with some good friends.

I know these guys have actually shown up in more than one entry this year. But that's the way it is with really good friends: they're always there. I'm thankful that my kids have friends like them to hang out with. And I'm grateful for their mom, Michelle, too (who isn't pictured because I don't think she'd appreciate me using a hastily snapped pic. At all). She's definitely one of my best friends. And it's a huge blessing to have them right down the street (even if we are completely lame and most of our communication happens via instant messenger. You can boo me).

The past few years have taught me that friends can really betray you in unexpected ways. That may seem like a gratuitously negative statement, but it's made me much more thankful for the great people who've stuck with me no matter what. And that's definitely a positive born of a big ol' negative.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

June 26

My girl was a true God-send to me today.
Though I felt better when I woke up this morning, I definitely wasn't 100%. Abby helped me out all day long, getting her brothers drinks and helping with nap and bedtime.

I'm blessed to have such a great helper in my daughter.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

June 25

I don't know if I have food poisoning or a really nasty stomach bug, but I've been feeling awful since 2 AM. And I've been very, very blessed to have my hunny taking care of me:

Not everybody has a spouse who will clean up their sick, take care of the kids while trying to work, go out and buy ginger ale at 9 PM... so many things.

I love you, hunny. Thank you for being truly God-like and helping me.

Monday, June 24, 2013

June 24

Yep, this is my TV remote:

Y'all know I come up with some pretty wackadoodle entries some days, and this is one of them.

Anyway, my remote control reminds me of God not because it increases laziness or encourages wasting time on fruitless TV viewing. Nope. It's because it represents down-time, which I've come to realize is an essential part of surviving this life. Taking time for yourself --whether it's in front of the boob tube or taking a walk or whatever-- changes so many things for the better. And those little stolen moments are huge blessings.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

June 23

Today wasn't my best ever. Nope. It was pretty awful, if I'm honest with myself. I was exhausted from yesterday's dance recitals, the kids' incessant screaming and fighting woke me up before I wanted to get out of bed and my sinuses are congested yet again. To tie it up with a nice little bow, I was in a foul mood.

But even on days like today, I can find God.

This beautiful ear of corn was part of my dinner. Isn't it amazing that food can be so pretty? I thought so. It's just a small thing in life, but it makes me smile to think that God must want us to have attractive food. After all, He did design every kernel and every color variation on the cob.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

June 22

Sometimes, winks are so good and pure and salient and obvious that I feel like I don't even have the right to try to talk about them via something as plain and base as the written word. I had one that conveyed that kind of power tonight, and despite myself, I'm going to try to write it all out. Because I never, ever want to forget this one.

Abby and I were dancing our mother/daughter routine during the 7 o'clock show tonight -- the final one in a series of three today. I'm not gonna lie: between my tap class and this dance and watching little ones downstairs during the shows, my 35-year old body was tired with a capital T.

Sometime in the middle of the number, I glanced upward and saw a lone pink balloon slowly descending from the rafters high above.

Those of us in the center of the pack, so to speak, saw it, and I think most of us were amused. It floated downward until it reached a slightly above face-level cruising altitude. And then it engaged in a gentle, graceful bob-and-weave pattern, as if it were dancing right along with us. It was so close that it felt, at times, like it was dancing with me. And Abby was gleeful over its presence -- I could tell by her stifled but amused giggles.

And then the lights dimmed, and we scurried off-stage in the darkness, still twittering over the excitement of our unexpected guest star. I overheard someone remark That was SO weird! I've never seen anything like that before.... And then it hit me: it was, in whatever way possible, Logan. He showed up to dance with us. He showed up to dance with me one more time.

I know it's true. I also know it's strange, but when I get that feeling and I can barely hold back the tears, I just... know. The funny thing is, it's not surprising to me that Logan would show up on stage during a dance recital. He loved dance. I know he would've been in today's shows if he were still here physically.

But he did what he could. And I've never been more thankful for a little pink balloon.

Friday, June 21, 2013

June 21

It's dance recital weekend, so that means we spent the day flitting between home and rehearsals. I snapped this quick shot as Abby and I headed out to the theater to practice the mother/daughter dance:

Though she drives me a little bit crazy at times, I love this girl. And I'm blessed that she's my daughter. And I'm even more blessed that I get to dance with her on a stage wearing really stylin' identical threads. :) It's just the kind of thing I dreamed of when I was a little girl. And I love it when my good dreams become my realities.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

June 20

Today felt... scattered. So much so that despite the fact that it was relatively activity-intensive, I had a hard time isolating a single wink-ish kind of moment. So I'll do a little conglomeration, so to speak, and share a few notables from my day that made me smile:

Candy and new Cars. I found these at Target this evening when I went to pick up something for our recital rehearsal tomorrow. One makes me remember good times, and the other... well, the other's just a good munchie now and again! Though they're merely first world extras, both are also very good things.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

June 19

As I sat down to dinner tonight, I looked at my plate. And then I did a double-take, because I saw this:

Yes, it's teriyaki sauce. But it's a glob of teriyaki sauce in the shape of Mickey Mouse's head!

Weird, I know, but I chuckled when I saw it because it reminded me that childish wonder and delight don't have to die just because I grew up. And that, my friends, is a blessing indeed.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

June 18

Extra-specially simple one today. I was submitting a quick article to a new site this morning and got a mental jolt when I scrolled to the bottom of the page and saw the captcha:

It felt like a lovely 'hi mom' kind of moment. I don't feel like I get those particularly often, so it's always a joy when they pop up unexpectedly as I go about my mundane daily routine. It makes it feel like he's just in the next room, just waiting to be a physical part of my life. I know that's not the reality, but it makes life a wee bit easier to pretend every now and again that it is. And to remember that one day in the future, it will be once again.

Monday, June 17, 2013

June 17

I took a walk by myself after dinner this evening. As I wandered, I saw this, kept walking, thought 'wow, that reminds me of being in Kaua'i', went back, and took its picture.

Though we have no big Hawaiian getaway planned for this summer (darn it!), it made me remember our trip last June. And it reminded me that I'm so thankful to have those memories.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

June 16

I'm pretty sure that Adam feels the same way about Fathers Day as I do about Mothers Day: he probably wishes we could just skip it, because we can't be with all of the little people who made us parents. Because it's such a salient, stark reminder of the magnitude of our loss. But the days come anyway, and we have to endure them. And enjoy them, at least to the best of our limited abilities.

This afternoon, following lunch with Adam's parents, we piled into the minivan and headed over to Walmart to pick up some new plants for Logan's grave. While we were there, I meandered down the toy aisles, hoping to find a new Corvette to present to my hunny 'from' Logan. After a few fruitless minutes, I stepped back to leave. But something to told me to be patient and move to the left-hand side of the bin. So I did, even though it felt like a pointless maneuver. But it wasn't pointless, because I found this:

A new Hot Wheels Corvette. The car that I hoped --but really didn't believe-- I'd find. I was happy to be able to give it to Adam. I was happy to 'hear' from my sunshine. And most of all, I was happy to get a reminder that little happy surprises are everywhere -- if we have the faith to look for them.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

June 15

Isaac turned 5 today. I think it was a good birthday for him; he got to play plenty of Wii, channeled his inner rock star to produce some awesome birthday pictures, went out to lunch, visited a local park and just hung out at home. He was cheerful and patient and pleasant, even when forced to wear a girly pink bike helmet on the way to the park (since his Lightning McQueen version went missing). Yep, he's a good boy and I thank God for this great smile every day.

But if I'm honest, I have to admit that it was also a day filled with a sort of reticent silence for me as a mom. The very last birthday Logan had in this life was his fifth. I found myself flipping through my mental roladex all day long, remembering what Logan did for his pivotal birthday; the one we were praying was merely the first of a brand new life of new and improved years for him. The circumstances are, of course, vastly different now, but the underlying emotion for this birthday --for all birthdays we celebrate now, in fact-- is one of indelibly mixed emotion. Happy for the years we celebrate; devastated over those we've been denied. It's very strange to think that in just a little more than six months' time, Isaac will have been on this earth longer than his big brother ever was. The reality is stark and cruel. But it is what it is.

Happy birthday, Isaac. And thanks to God for the ongoing blessing of all of my little loves.

Friday, June 14, 2013

June 14

Today, Abby finished the third grade. She had a good year, despite being charged with the daunting challenge of learning to live without her best friend. There were many people who aided in making the past months a positive experience for her, and though she'll probably be really (really) embarrassed when she sees this, this is one of them, Abby's teacher:

She impressed me from the outset when she called me before school started in August and listened to me ramble on about Logan and our family and my thoughts on how the experience might affect Abby over the months to come. And that continued throughout the year, as I chattered on about random subjects and she just... let me. And paid attention. And asked questions. Everyone likes to feel valued, and she may have been my kid's teacher, but she did an amazing job of making that happen for me many times. In my learning-to-live-again mode, I just needed someone to hear me, and I was surprised to find that she was that kind of person.

Even better, I never worried about Abby while she was at school. After Sandy Hook, I remember telling her I'm not worried... I know you do the best you can do. And while parents all around me were freaking out, I meant it.

I could go on and on, because that's often what I do, but I'll wind this up by saying that I saw God in her many times this year. And for all of those times (and for the ones still to come), I'm very thankful.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

June 13

I was checking my email this morning when Isaac summoned my attention with mommy, you have to take a picture of this!. I whirled around and this was the hyped scene:

The Little Boys, all cuddled up and doing their best puppy impressions.

I wish Logan was in this picture physically, but I can sense him emotionally. The depth of their affection for one another reminds me very much of him, and I know he's a big part of their lives, even though they can't see, touch, feel or hear him.

All of my little boys --and my slightly bigger girl-- are gifts from God. And for those untouchably precious blessings, I'm grateful.

Edited to add... moments after posting this, it occurred to me that Logan is represented here in the form of Brady's Bear-Bear. Brady adores his bear, who was given to him by Logan for Christmas in 2011.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

June 12

As I took the kids to the car this morning, I passed this guy on the sidewalk. On an impulse, I went back and took his picture, because in a weird way, I relate to the guy.

He may move frustratingly slowly, but he gets where he needs to go. I think for our own good, we can all use a little 'slow down but keep forging on' message now and then.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

June 11

I really don't feel well. At all. But that didn't stop me from looking up at the late afternoon sky and seeing what seemed like a little wink.

Okay, so it's a crappy picture, so I'll tell you what I saw. In the center of the picture (which I took from a moving car, hence the lack of quality), I tried to isolate an 'L' that I saw near the trees. Just a little reminder of my sweet boy, who headed off to his next chapter of existence 16 months ago today.

Monday, June 10, 2013

June 10

I found one of my old high school yearbooks while I was at my mom's last week, so I brought it home. I forgot about it until this morning, and was surprised when a folded sheet of paper fluttered to the floor as I carried it into my room. When I picked it up and eyed the dot matrix print that covered the page, I recognized it as a letter I'd written as a homework assignment in junior high. The subject matter? My life at age 35.

Kind of ironic, right? I hadn't seen it in years and years, and I found it at age 35 on the nose.

My predictions bore a striking resemblance to my actual reality. In my 13-year old mind's version of my current life, I had four kids and was a stay-at-home mom who occasionally wrote articles for a local paper as a freelancer. Which is, essentially, what actually panned out. I could theoretically take away points for not guessing that my freelancing happens online, but I shouldn't because the internet wasn't really a 'thing' back then.

Of course, I never, ever would've predicted that I'd lose one of those treasured children. And I incorrectly guessed where I'd live --Chicago rather than the San Francisco Bay Area-- but all in all, it was a striking read. And it reminded that though I feel lost at times, I've always had direction in my life.

I'd wondered over the years what became of that letter, and in a weird way that I can't fully explain, it was a blessing to see it again.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

June 9

While Adam, Brady and I were tending the flowers on Logan's grave today, Abby and Isaac excitedly called out to me. As I headed over to them to see what was up, they shared that they'd found a flower and wanted me to see it.

If you look really hard, you can see a bright orange poppy amid the dried, sun-scorched vegetation.

I took its picture in that moment, convinced that it was my wink for the day, though I had no idea why. And then a few minutes ago, it hit me: how awesome is it that two little kids spied that pretty little bloom? They managed to see it despite the prevalent unattractive brown remnants of life. The experience reminds me that it's good to view things like a child would see them, if only because we'd probably be more likely to identify the hidden jewels --in this case, the flowers-- endemic to everyday life.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

June 8

I tried to lie low today because I'm not feeling well at all. Lucky for me, sometimes those winks pop up at home.

This evening, Adam got out the vacuum to do a little cleaning in the family room, and Brady joined him with his Fisher Price model.

The whole process involved a delicate dance, with Brady weaving around Adam's legs and jamming his little vacuum underneath the real one over and over again, but the whole thing was undeniably precious. It reminded me of what a blessing it is to teach our kids the joys of mundane activities.

Friday, June 7, 2013

June 7

I was immersed in my own little world a few minutes ago, surfing the internet and half-watching Wheel of Fortune. When I say 'half-watching', I mean I wasn't really paying attention. It was, at best, background noise. But very suddenly, something made me look at the TV. And I mentally tuned in just in time to see the contestant solve this puzzle:

If you've followed me for a while now, you know the significance of these lyrics. I consider it Logan's song; in fact, it's the one I sang to him as he made the transition from this life to the next. I've caught myself starting to sing it to the other kids a few times and stopped very short. I love them all dearly, but it's simply not their song.

Anyway, it felt very much like an I'm here kind of moment.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

June 6

The good news is that Brady and I are home. The bad news is that despite my desperate efforts, I finally contracted his miserable cold. Despite not feeling particularly well, though, it's hard not to marvel over God's creation when you have a view like this:

The vantage point from above the clouds is always a great one.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

June 5

My mom's retirement dinner was this evening. My family joined several of her co-workers and old friends to celebrate her many years as a public school teacher.

I'm proud of her efforts, and I thank God for her presence in my life over the years. I'd say more... but it really is that simple.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

June 4

I had such a hard time picking today's image. I saw several dear old friends (not that they're literally old... I've just known them for a while) and took pictures with nearly all of them. We also went for a drive through the vast, beautiful countryside that afforded yet more photo opps, had lunch at a favorite old haunt of mine, AND got ice cream at a popular local joint that I hadn't visited in over 20 years. But despite my indecision, I finally made a selection, though even up to this very minute I'm not sure it's the right one because it may well be the most personal picture I've ever shared here. And I'm not sure how I feel about doing it.

This is the first house I ever lived in.

I lived here from birth until roughly age seven, when my parents split up. I have very conflicted feelings about this house; though I have a collection of very good memories there, I also have an equally strong assortment of not-so-good ones.

I had a recurring dream about being there several years ago, and I always feel the pull to drive by when I'm back in the area. I don't know why; maybe it gives me a chance to say I'm bigger than you. I'm over the things I remember that weren't pretty. Or maybe it gives me a chance to say I remember playing with GI Joe action figures out by the dogwood tree. And I remember racing Matchbox cars down the hallway and I remember watching Gilligan's Island and Mr. Rogers in the family room with the old orange carpet.

Or maybe it's a conflation of both. Maybe it gives me the chance to remember all of those things --the good as well as the bad-- and own them. Or, more accurately, to acknowledge that God owns them. Because it's always good to recognize that ultimately, God owns it all. At least, that's what I think.

Monday, June 3, 2013

June 3

Brady and I spent a big chunk of our day with my grandma. She's 90 years old now, but still lives in the same house she lived in with my grandpa for nearly 30 years. And she's still, in my humble opinion, remarkably independent.

My grandma has always been very important to me. I lived with her for a few months when I was very young, and then again for a few years in elementary school. She's one of my closest relatives, and I really wish I could see her more often.

Anyway, today, she took us for a ride in the golf cart she uses to get around her rather expansive piece of property.

To make what could be a very long story much shorter, I loved the ride. It wasn't long and it had a bizarre ending that involved grandma and I pushing the cart up a hill toward her garage while Brady sat in the center seat, but I really treasured how it made me feel to touch that ground again. How it felt to smell the grass and see the vibrant green color of the trees. It felt home-y and familiar. My adult life may have carried me far from these roots, but as Sugarland and Bon Jovi said, who says you can't go home?

Sunday, June 2, 2013

June 2

Since the next few days will no doubt revolve around the concept of nostalgia for me, I figured I should just go ahead and let myself take the memory lane route here.

Here are Brady and his beloved Bear Bear sitting on the steps at my mom's house with a couple of Care Bears that once belonged to me. He was pleased to meet the extra bears, and spent some time toting them around this afternoon.

I know I pretty much said the same thing yesterday, but it bears repeating: I see God in the ability I have to share elements of my own childhood with my little muffin.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

June 1

Today was a beautiful, blessing-ful day. We all got up before the sun to head to the airport. Adam, Abby and Isaac saw Brady and I off at security. I was worried about traveling alone with the muffin man, especially since he has a double ear infection --ouch!-- but much to my delight, he was the perfect traveler. No meltdowns, no tantrums, no fussing, no complaining. He was charming and sweet and cute and fun to be around, even when I dragged him through the airport in Chicago to make our tight connection, and even when our bags took forever to show up at BWI, and even when we had to stand in line for our rental car for 40 minutes. Amazing.

And then I got to have this gratifying moment, too: my littlest man standing in front of my mom's house, where I lived from age 11 through high school.

It's a blessing to be able to take him to places that were important to me when I was a kid. As someone who lives so far from her roots, it gives me a chance to mix my past with my present, and create a cohesive whole.