June 30

It was h-o-t out today, so with the exception of a trip to the Lego Store to visit the pick a brick wall, we hung out at home. After the temperature had dropped a little, Abby and I went for a walk around the neighborhood this evening. As we strolled, I looked up at the sky.

There was nothing especially mind-blowing about the sight, but I was struck once again by both the blue hue and the white brushstrokes. It's always comforting to be reminded that God is that artist who created this world.

June 29

I think human life can be a lot like a set of Duplo blocks.

We'll think we've constructed the greatest tower ever when bam, a reckless three-year old comes along and knocks it over with one careless (or artfully placed) arm motion.

But the great thing about these blocks is that even after they've been leveled, even after our creation has lost its form, we can always regroup, stop sobbing, collect our blocks, and rebuild something new and special.

I think God created us to be resilient. And we're especially resilient if we let Him do the building (and re-building) in the first place.

June 28

I was all set to use a lovely picture of rays of sunshine streaming down through some tree branches... and then this happened:

After an afternoon at the county fair, we did as we always do, and stopped by one of those photo booths to take a strip of silly selfies. (And yes, it's hard to cram five of us into the tiny booth, but we manage.) As I waited for the pictures to come out and Adam corralled Brady, I watched, silently, as Abby and Isaac went back inside the booth together. They didn't know I was watching; I'm sure Abby would've booted him had she noticed me. But the scene was a beautiful one and I wanted it to last forever, so I didn't say a word.

They may spend much of their time bickering, but this image --snapped when they didn't know anyone was watching-- tells another story. And for that little piece of Heaven, I'm thankful.

June 27

I had a very early interview call this morning. I was worried that a herd of kids would run down the stairs and cause a ruckus on the line, so I went out to the car. And I saw these guys on the sidewalk:

Usually when I see snails, they're moving at full speed toward the grass or some other moist area. But not these little guys. Nope. These two were cuddled up together and sitting stock still. I poked them and they moved their little antennae so I know they were alive, but I was taken by their peaceful stillness. It was almost as if they were taking comfort from just being there together on the sidewalk.

I could take a lesson from that. After all, God did say "be still and know that I am God." And it may be funny, but these little dudes reminded me of that truth.

June 26

While Adam and Abby were at work today, I took the Little Boys to the mall, partly to go to a sale and partly to just get out of the house. A few years back, the mall installed these little pay-to-play cars on the first floor and the kiddos love them, even though I never put money in them to make them shake, rattle and roll. (Because seriously... an entire dollar?!)

Although they did as they usually do and asked if I'd give them money, they didn't whine or complain when I said no. In fact, they very happily moved from car to car, smiling broadly as they pretended to be race car drivers and ice cream men and bus drivers.

I love that they can be satisfied with what they have rather than wanting more, more, more. There's a big lesson there for everyone, I think.

June 25

We had a chill day around the house, filled with (mostly) peaceful interactions involving Things 1, 3 and 4. By around 10:30, I became vaguely aware that they were milling around the kitchen a lot, and Isaac continually asked me to read him books. But I didn't figure out what they were doing until they called me outside for lunchtime.

When I joined them, I saw that they had two blankets spread out on the grass. When I asked if they wanted me to make some lunch, they smiled and said no, and it was then that I noticed that they each had a backpack. They opened their bags, and pulled out sandwich bags. Each one bore one of our names, and contained a peanut butter sandwich and baby carrots.

I was touched by their sweet gesture. As it turns out, Abby made the food, while Isaac and Brady were in charge of 'distracting' me. Deception aside, I'm proud of their ingenuity. And a nice little picnic outside is always a good thing!

June 24

Another busy summer day for me; not so much so for the kiddos. I had several interviews to transcribe and corresponding articles to write, so while I did that, Abby, Isaac, and Brady entertained themselves via Legos, Wii, and fort building, interrupted only by a brief excursion to Target for Treat Tuesday. (Yes, I made that up right before we went. I had to make it sound exciting.) Then this evening, we had dinner at Costco.

As we sat at a table in the food court waiting for Adam to bring us our food, Brady suddenly turned to Abby and exuberantly exclaimed 'kiss my face!' And then he posed for me so I could take a picture.

I love moments like these, when my little loves live in harmony. I love that Abby went along with it and I love that Brady made the request in the first place.

It's good to remember the good aspects of this life.

June 23

I went for a 2 3/4 mile walk this evening by myself. It wasn't that I wanted to go solo; the Little Boys were headed to bed and Abby responded to my asking if she wanted to come along by starting a new episode of Phineas and Ferb. (I can take a hint.) As I walked along, I took notice of my surroundings.

Socio-political ideological clashes aside, this really is a lovely place to live. The scenery is pretty, the weather (well, aside from the whole severe drought thing) is close to perfect, and it's a safe place for our family to grow up.

And for all of that, I'm deeply thankful.

June 22

Today, the local contingent of Adam's extended family gathered for a tapas/birthday party. The kiddos had fun in the pool and on a trampoline and a zipline with their second cousins (who are actually close to their ages; Caroline marks the end of one generation while Abby begins the next. They're seven months apart).

Simple but true: it's a blessing to be able to get together and catch up. And it's a blessing to celebrate important milestones like birthdays. Even as I stood watching Isaac open his presents, painfully mindful that Logan should've been doing the same, I still remembered to count the day's happenings as a blessing. And for me, personally, that in and of itself is a reason to celebrate.

June 21

Ah, recital days. The culmination of a season of dance class. I had a hard time picking an image for last year's recitals, and the same is true for today. So I'll just go with this one of Abby and I that I snapped as we headed out the door for the first show of the day:

I'm thankful that we get to do a mother/daughter dance (even if this year's incarnation did feature hip hop... yeah, not so pretty for moi). I may not be the best dancer ever, but it's fun. I like sharing dance with my girl. And I love how it makes me feel more connected to Logan.

And with that, the real stories of the day. There were two of them. The first involved Isaac. I watched his class do their teddy bear-themed tap dance from the side of the stage. At one point he looked over, saw me, smiled and waved. It melted my heart and was just an adorable expression of his purity of heart.

And the other story. It was just a moment, really, but it was such a crisp, clear, aha kind of moment that it felt like time stopped so I could soak it in. As we (Abby and Tawny, the other mom assigned to the group) waited outside with Isaac's (quite rowdy) class near the end of the third and final show this evening, I looked up just as a bunch of lost balloons --white and blue-- skipped along the ceiling of the enclosure. In that moment, all of the kid-noise faded away and I just watched them scoot along. It was probably the wind, but it made me feel like Logan was there, watching us and taking part in the only way he could.

And for those brief seconds, I'm thankful.

June 20

For some reason I can't explain, I had so many little winks today that I had to choose which one to use. Inevitably, I went with this one because it made my heart happy:

Since tomorrow is dance recital day and we won't have the time (or energy) to take our usual Saturday stroll, we took our walk tonight after dinner. Brady and Isaac often jump on manhole and utility covers. They like to pretend that they're "chutes" that give them superhero powers. I have no idea why they started doing it or where they even got the idea, but it's cute.

Brady doubled that cuteness tonight by adding a step to his superhero-powering process: wiggling his booty.

That particular move was a Logan Special. It amazes me to see Brady emulating his big brother, especially since he doesn't remember him.

A little pre-recital nod from above.

June 19

Today was much more restful than yesterday. Well, except for the part that involved me forgetting about Isaac's dance class, shouting "get in the car! Get in the car!" when I remembered (even though both Little Boys were still in their pajamas), and arriving there 20 minutes late. But in general, yes. More restful.

But the day didn't give me a really obvious wink. So I asked for one. And... I received.

I was sitting in my chair not long ago thinking "well, I don't have one today. Lord, please give me something I can use." And then I looked up and saw these on top of the toy shelf: a blue lamb and a pink bunny cuddled up together.

It doesn't mean much to most people, but it means a lot to me because of course, Lambie is a blue lamb. And Abby's treasured lovie, BuhBuh, is a pink bunny. It's just so appropriately sweet to see the two of them together: a pair of best friends hanging out.

June 18

I like puzzles. I like how they're simple --you're just assembling a picture, after all-- and I like that I have to think while working, but not about anything earth-shattering. It's an engaging activity that doesn't require a lot of serious thought. I haven't been able to put one together for quite some time now --cough, cough, uh, piece-thieving kids-- so I'm enjoying assembling this 1,000-piece number with Abby's help.

As I worked this afternoon, I thought about how this partly assembled puzzle reminds me of my life. See, God knows what the whole picture looks like in its final, finished glory. I have an idea as to what it should look like, but I don't have all of the information. Sometimes there are pieces that go missing for long periods of time before they're found. Sometimes edges are bent. Sometimes the colors don't look quite right. Sometimes even when I'm convinced that a certain piece belongs in a certain spot, I'm wrong and I have to shift the pieces around to find the right place.

But beyond all of that, I'm a work in progress. And that's totally right and okay, because all of us --even the smartest, sharpest, brightest ones-- are works in progress. It's true that this puzzle will (at least I hope!) be finished at some point in the near future, while the process of constructing the final, finished 'me' will take longer than that. But the metaphor... it works for me.

June 17

Today was lousy. I had an early interview so I was up at 5 AM. Then a series of frustrations sent me to several different stores in search of a single item that should've been easy to find. And I can't even go into the complete and utter shameful disaster that was the evening's school board meeting. I'll sum it all up in simple terms by saying that I'm shaking, near tears, and completely exhausted but also completely unable to sleep.

But there was a little ray of light amid the darkness and frustration. While I was conducting my interview this morning, Brady came downstairs. He saw me on the couch, and I saw him clutching his BearBear, but he left me alone. After I hung up, I headed upstairs to check on him, but he wasn't in his room. So I went back downstairs. And as I looked over the banister, I saw this scene: him, lying on pillows in the living room, clutching his BearBear, peacefully at rest.

Blissful, peaceful sleep is such a blessing. It's one that's eluding me at the moment, but I hope --I pray-- for that kind of peace. And soon.

June 16

Today marked the first official day of summer vacation. Although the kiddos make me tired sometimes, I realize what a tremendous blessing it is to have this extended block of time with them, although we didn't do anything special during the day: they spent most of it wearing their pajamas and playing Isaac's new Wii games (before we went off to Chuck E Cheese for the last bit of Isaac's birthday celebration in the evening).

At lunchtime, I served them peanut butter and grape jam mini sandwiches and cheddar cheese, which they happily ate while sitting together at the kids' table. It's a blessing to see them together. And summer is particularly special to me because three years ago, my kids had one last summer all together before Logan passed on. The memories of them dancing and laughing and playing duck duck goose and coloring and writing and reading are precious to me. And although our new memories won't include my Sunshine, they will include the other most important people in my life.

June 15

Today was a special one. It was, of course, both Father's Day and Isaac's sixth birthday. But it was also the first time those two events shared a date since the year Isaac was born -- 2008. It was also the last time it will happen until 2025, when Isaac turns 17 years old.

The day involved Sunday School, McDonalds, then a trip to the mall for birthday photos (which took much too long, but Isaac was extraordinarily patient the entire time. He was, in fact, much more outwardly patient than I felt on the inside). For dinner, the birthday boy asked to go to Chevy's, I'm sure in part because of a) the ice cream they bring and b) the cool hat they plop on your head when said ice cream is delivered. But I was most gratified and touched by what happened after the birthday schtick was over.

Most six year olds would probably wolf down their special birthday treats solo. But not Isaac. Before anyone even had a chance to throw him a pleading glance, he summoned extra spoons and asked if anyone wanted a bite. I passed, but he happily shared with Brady and Abby, first taking a bite and then offering each of them a spoonful before he took another.

I'm proud of him in many ways, but I'm probably most pleased with how well he shares. He really is the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it.

And to be able to call him one of my own is a wonderful blessing.

Happy birthday, Isaac.

June 14

Tomorrow, Isaac turns six years old. It's hard to believe that it's already been six years since we officially welcomed him to our family. It's hard to believe that almost exactly six years ago to the hour, Adam and I came home from a night out and I told our teenage baby-sitter Christin (who's now a teacher in the school district!) that I was in labor. And it's hardest to believe that tomorrow, Isaac will officially be older than his older brother got to be in this lifetime. Yeah, that's definitely the hardest pill to swallow. But still, it will be a good day; a day to be thankful.

Today, we celebrated Isaac's big day with Adam's family. The evening began with Abby swinging on the play structure and the Little Boys running wild and free with bubble wands. There was something freeing about watching them giggle as they chased the bubbles around the yard. Brady in particular threw his entire body into the experience, whirling and twirling and whirling some more as he proclaimed himself a ninja.

A nice evening it was. And a blessing indeed.

June 13

Today marked the last day of school for Abby and Isaac. It also marked the final day as a full-time teacher for Mrs. Sjodahl.

Our family first got to know Mrs. S when Abby had her for kindergarten. She was kind and funny and always willing to lend an ear to me (and a snack to my kids! I think Abby, Logan, and Isaac went through quite a few treats in her classroom back in 2009-10).

When we found out Logan was sick, she agreed to help keep watch over Abby, who by then was in first grade, at school. And after he died, she mourned with us and reminded me that he'd simply moved on. She never tried to explain it or make light of it; she just said in her own words that it sucked. And that was that.

Then this year, she served as one of Isaac's two teachers. And there were more treats and more kind words and more off-hours sharing of faith.

I'm sad that Brady won't have her as his teacher (and of course, that Logan didn't get to, either), but as I wrote to her in a note I put in her retirement book, she may not have been their classroom teacher, but she taught them anyway. She taught them about kindness and sharing and loving other people in practical ways.

And all of that... a blessing indeed.

June 12

Tomorrow marks the last day of school: the conclusion of kindergarten for Isaac, and fourth grade for Abby. And during our walk this evening, Abby made a remark that seems quite appropriate for the occasion.

It's hard to tell from the image, but she was walking backward. I told her she should turn around so she could see where she was going, and she replied "I don't really need to see where I'm going as long as I know where I've been."

Profound for fourth grade. Profound for anyone, really. And blessed words, especially after I alter them a wee bit: we don't NEED to know where we're going as long as we have faith.

June 11

I spent the morning volunteering for the fourth grade's Gold Rush Day at school. A handful of other moms (who I consider good friends, as it happens) and I oversaw a collection of outdoor stations, including the areas devoted to panning for gold, washing clothes, shaving, and visits to the doctor's office, where the mom-docs distributed Jelly Belly "medication" for ailments that included cholera, diptheria, rabies, and a host of other delightful (and surprisingly giggle-worthy) conditions.

Afterward, as I was heading off to pick up Isaac from kindergarten, I stopped by to visit Abby during lunch. I found her sitting with two of her very best friends:

She met Bridget way back in kindergarten when they were in the same class. The two of them have had their ups and downs over the years, but they're on an upswing right now, and I hope it lasts. Belle came into the picture in second grade, and she and Abby have been virtually inseparable ever since.

I love my Abby, and I love both of these girls and how they make my girl smile. There are few blessings greater or more meaningful than being able to grow up with good friends by your side.

June 10

Adam wasn't feeling well today so he did something he almost never does: he stayed home from work and actually took a nap this afternoon. (I thought hell was freezing over. Some men suffer from the Man Flu, but he's not one of them. No. He works when he shouldn't and almost never stays home when he's under the weather. I usually have to beg him to do it.) But before he ventured upstairs, he spent some time hanging out with The Muffin, who is still quarantined thanks to his case of hand foot and mouth:

Brady was delighted to have some extra time with his daddy. And there was --and always is-- something precious about watching him happily cuddle with Adam. He's a good dad. And we're all blessed to have him in our lives, even on the days when he's feeling less than ideal.

June 9

There's a general sense of malaise hanging around our house. The Little Boys were sick with fevers last week, I discovered this morning that Brady has hand foot and mouth disease, Abby is tired after not sleeping well, and even Adam, who is generally pretty healthy, feels under the weather. But Isaac and Brady showed a sense of youthful resilience all day, and especially this evening when they broke into a bag of kitty toys and pretended to be cats.

They meowed, chased each other, batted plastic balls around the floor, and hid inside their kitty houses.

I love it when they rise above their challenges and have fun while they're doing it. They inspire me to be optimistic and have fun, even when I feel down and out. And I thank God for them every single day, even when they're loud and boisterous and crazy (and drinking from the cat's water dish).

June 8

Logan loved cars. All sorts of cars, but especially Pixar's Cars and Cars 2. I think, in some ways, the music of those two films made up the soundtrack of his life.

This morning, we watched Cars. As the credits rolled, I thought about the amazing Lightning McQueen picture that my friend Erin's old friend --who happens to be an animator at Pixar-- made for Logan while he was at CHO. And for the millionth time, I thought it would be so cool to have a Logan car in the next Cars movie: a blue car with a flame job and a spoiler. A real zoom-car, as Logan called them. Then I put the thought on my back burner as I usually do --because how would I ever make that happen?-- and logged into Facebook. And I nearly choked on my coffee when this was the post at the top of my feed:

It's not the content that got me; I was born in 1978 so I don't have any memories from that decade. It was the fact that it was posted by Erin via her friend the Pixar guy.

This was at the top of my feed. And I have more than 700 friends.

I still have no idea if it will ever happen. It would be amazing if it did; if his favorite film franchise saw it fit to honor one of its biggest fans in that kind of tangible way. And I certainly don't intend to put ANY pressure on anyone!

But the experience reminded me that I shouldn't give up on hopes just because they seem far-fetched.

June 7

Nothing really jumped out at me today. It was a fairly typical Saturday for us: dance first thing, some work on a puzzle, lunch, some interview transcription and article writing, dinner, a walk. I walked into my kitchen a few minutes at a complete loss with regard to what I'd write, and then I saw this:

A stack of cups, with Elmo's eyes peeking out. I smiled when I saw it, and knew it was the right shot.

Why? Because it was fun and whimsical. It was like a little reminder that God is always here, 'peeking' at me, even when I don't necessarily see Him. And because they're children's cups, and we're all God's kids -- even us grown-ups.

June 6

I made homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight: just elbow mac, milk, butter, flour, cheddar, and swiss. And a little sprinkling of nutmeg for me and Adam.

I don't cook often, but I really do enjoy it and view it as a creative process. It's relaxing, and it's personally fulfilling to prepare something that my family can eat and (hopefully) appreciate.

Looking at this nearly empty pot, I was reminded that it's always a blessing to be a caretaker, even if sometimes, it feels like it isn't.

June 5

The Little Boys and I stopped by Walgreens this morning on the way to preschool camp to buy some sore throat spray for a friend of mine. We went inside and quickly found this:

I was extra-specially pleased because it was even on clearance, and well, I love a good deal. Since Isaac (and now Brady, ugh) was having issues with a sore throat of his own yesterday and today, I snagged the two bottles remaining and headed for the checkout.

As the cashier rang up the items, she asked if I'd like to donate $1 to Children's Hospital Oakland. I was taken aback for a moment; I always feel a little surge of bittersweet emotion when I see those familiar Miracle Network Balloons. But I always donate, so I said okay. As Isaac carefully wrote Logan's name on the balloon, I told the cashier a little about the boys' big brother. And talking about Logan is always a nice way to start a new day.

June 4

Of late, Abby's been very interested in digging for and collecting rocks. She spent several days pursuing her new hobby during recess at school, and honestly, I liked hearing about her newest finds at pick-up. I've mentioned it before, but she can be melancholic, so I like to encourage her to pursue activities that make her smile and bring out her sweet, inquisitive, excited side. Unfortunately, the fun ended not long ago when a yard duty told her to stop it because she'd wind up getting dirty. But this evening, while out from under the thumb of the concerned (and dirt-phobic) mystery adult, she happily resumed her interest during our after-dinner girls' walk.

After stopping four or five times to watch her carefully pry stones from the virtually rock-solid, drought-affected earth, I finally asked her why she felt compelled to dig out the buried ones; why not just take the ones that were already loose?

She looked up at me calmly, and squinting in the fading sunlight, she replied 'because the ones that are hard to get to are the most beautiful ones of all.'

My kids so often leave me feeling both speechless and humbled these days that two hours after the fact, I'm still not sure what to say about that response. It's a blessing that she recognizes the beauty of hard work and the rewards that often accompany a good effort.

And of course, on a much more basic level, it's a blessing that she's happy to feel the earth and be satisfied by something as mundane as digging up rocks. As I've said many times before, it's the little things. To be able to derive enjoyment from something so simple is priceless.

June 3

Brady has an affinity for the sandbox at the local park. I don't really get it --I liken it to a very large cat box-- but he enjoys digging and sculpting and building. This morning, he was very excited to show me this:

It didn't look like much to me, but his face glowed as he told me it was a castle.

Creativity and enthusiasm and those big smiles... all God-sends to me. Even if they spring forth from an otherwise kind of gross sandbox.

June 2

The fourth grade is nearly over for Abby. It's been a challenging year in a lot of ways --for both of us-- but I feel like she's learned a lot.

But academics aside, today was a fun kind of day for her class as they, in conjunction with another class, put on a play about the California Gold Rush.

She didn't have an actual part --she didn't get the one she auditioned for and wasn't chosen when she raised her hand for other roles that didn't require try-outs-- but she did have a function: she was the kid who passed the cues from the music teacher to the boy in charge of playing the music.

I'm proud of her for being happy with a behind-the-scenes kind of role. A lot of people gravitate toward the spotlight and I confess that I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see her shine on stage, but I'm pleased that she wants to help in a capacity that earns her no outward praise or notice.

I could totally learn from her example.

June 1

Time for some good old fashioned blunt honesty: I've never been big on singing in church. My disdain for "worship" time began back in college, when a certain well-meaning and decidedly spiritually-minded worship leader would repeat the same words of a song until I wanted to puke. He was clearly into it and getting a lot (LOT LOT LOT) from the experience as he sang to our savior and plucked his guitar strings. I, on the other hand, would get bored and frustrated and mentally check out after the fifth repetition of the same line. Simply put, words tend to lose their meaning for me when they're said over and over (and over) again. (That, of course, is a generalization. There are some words we can't ever say often enough. But I digress.) That's why today's wink was such a huge surprise.

We were standing in church singing "It's All Because of Jesus." The part I've quoted is the part I'm going to reference, too, so check out the words.

So anyway, I was standing there singing and thinking. Despite my cynical view of worship time, I actually like this song quite a lot and enjoy it. It's pretty music and a great message. So I was singing it's all because of Jesus I'm alive... when I suddenly saw Logan in my mind's eye. And then something unexpected happened: he started singing those words back at me:

It's all because of Jesus I'm alive
It's all because the blood of Jesus Christ
Covered me and raised this dead man's life
It's all because of Jesus... I'm alive.

I won't lie. It was an intense couple of seconds and I almost lost it. Not because I was sad or surprised or because I longed for him in that moment, but because I knew the words he was singing to me were true: He IS alive because of the blood of Jesus Christ... he died, but he's ALIVE.

And that, my friends, was a morsel of truth presented on a beautiful platter.