October 31

The weather forecast called for rain all day long. While we did see some precipitation, the two most important times of the day for us --between 8:30 and 9:30 a.m. for the school Halloween parade and pony pics at the preschool, and after 6 p.m. for trick-or-treating around the neighborhood-- were clear and (mostly) dry. It was a huge blessing to be able to enjoy those activities without getting completely soaked. It was also a blessing to engage in another of our family traditions.

We've gotten into the habit of carving our pumpkins on Halloween itself. I think we started off doing so out of necessity; there simply wasn't enough time to take care of it before the big day's arrival. But recent years have seen it as part of our usual routine. This year, the kiddos designed their own faces and Adam carved them, and the results --especially with candles inside-- were actually remarkably impressive: who needs stencils when you have a young, creative mind? (And as pictured, Lambie had the little pumpkin Abby chose for Logan, since Logan once said he wanted the littlest one he could find. The idea really stuck with her.)

Anyway, today was filled with blessings both big and small, and I know God was behind each and every one of them.

October 30

As I walked today with the kiddos during the usual school drop-off/pick-up routine, I stopped multiple times to stare up at the sky. This is how it looked as we rounded the corner on our way home this afternoon:

I've said it before, but looking up at the sky --especially on days like today-- makes me feel like I'm looking up at Heaven, though I don't really know where (or when) it's actually located. The serenity, the stillness, the colors and the light all work together to create the most beautifully unique images painted by the hand of God.

And on top of that, each time I looked up, some very important words came to mind... I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.. It's a blessing to be reminded of what's true, especially when the reminder comes in the form of such a breathtaking sight.

October 29

I feel a little shock of embarrassment whenever I notice that someone has de-friended me on Facebook. I know there are lots of reasons why it happens; maybe you've grown apart or maybe you didn't really know the person well in the first place or maybe, in some cases, it was even an accident. Today, I noticed that someone I'd known for several years had given me the axe.

The questions wasted no time coming to mind: did I do something wrong? Did I stick my foot in my mouth again? A breath... or was she tired of hearing about Logan? Did thinking of him make her too sad? I sat in those feelings as they washed over me. And I started to drown.

And then my doorbell rang. I didn't want to get up to get it, but Brady ran to the window as he often does and said no one was there. So I got up. And when I opened the front door, I found these:

We were Boo'ed.

And I very nearly cried.

I spend a lot of time --more than I'd ever dream of letting on-- feeling completely and utterly inadequate. Not just inadequate as a mom or a wife; inadequate as a human being. I usually feel that people don't actually like me, rather they tolerate me out of necessity --like because our kids are friends-- or even worse, out of pity.

But being boo'ed made me feel a sense of significance that I don't often feel because someone felt that I --we-- were worthy of the effort.

Of course, we're all important to God. But sometimes, well, sometimes I need to feel like my existence on this earth matters, too.

October 28

When I went back and looked through my phone this evening, I realized I'd taken a LOT LOT LOT of photos today, of everything from Brady and his friend Elliott holding sticks and tan bark bits for their respective nature "collections" (you're welcome, Valerie!) and my newest pair of shoes (I am a shoe ho and I own it) to the contents of a big box of Campbell's products I received in the mail to test out and scenes from Abby's Halloween routine at dance class.

But in the end, I settled on this one.

We were at Costco tonight and she saw this big ceramic Kris Kringle in the electronics section. Just a moment later, she was hugging it and asking me to take her picture with Santa. So I did.

I know that some people don't like letting their kids believe in Santa, but I've never taken issue with it. She still believes, but I know it won't be long before she doesn't; before that magical element of her childhood is over and life becomes, well, real.

I embrace these moments. After all, she'll turn 10 next week. And I know enough to realize that these times of single-digit simplicity and wonder are woefully limited.

October 27

This tree sits on the field beside the school.

Since it's deciduous, I've watched it cycle through the stages of tree life over and over again. I've seen it teeming with fresh leaves. I've seen a score of healthy leaves glimmer in the sunlight. I've seen said leaves turn brown (and occasionally, shades of yellow and orange) and then fall to the grown, as was the most recent case.

And that memory of watching the tree experience its own life made me remember something important about my own: like the tree, my life is also lived in a series of cycles. Though UNlike the tree, mine don't necessarily follow a prescribed order, I still go through changes as my circumstances get better and worse and then better again.

Having the hope that Spring will come again is priceless.

October 26

This isn't actually the perfect image to represent what I want to say today, but it inspired the thought, so here goes.

This is what it looks like: an impression of a leaf on the sidewalk. It's just a water mark, so once the sun hits it, it'll be gone. But it reminded me of an important truth: our experiences --good, bad and otherwise-- leave impressions on us. Some of them --like the water mark-- are transient; they influence us for a little while, but then fade away.

But others, like a hand print in cement, are more permanent. They're always there, coloring how we view both the world and our experiences and giving us a wisdom that can only be earned through said experiences.

And that knowledge is a blessing.

October 25

Today, we took our annual trip to Half Moon Bay to visit Pastorino's Pumpkin Farm. It's a tradition for us to drive down, braving traffic and bickering in the back seat, to wander among and pick out pumpkins for the season that lies ahead. We take the same photo every single year, dating back to when I was 38 weeks pregnant with Abby and looked like I was trying to smuggle a huge gourd out of the patch. Here's this year's:

I love our tradition. I love that we take this same shot over and over again so I can see how the kids have grown and changed over time. And I love that I can remember Logan being with us, toddling among the pumpkins and giggling as he picked delicate purple flowers to share with me.

There's a great deal of power and meaning in those memories, and I'm innumerably thankful to have them.

October 24

This evening, the elementary school held its annual Fun Fair. It's not my favorite event ever, but the kids love going and playing the little carnival games and seeing their friends after hours, so I'm happy to go along for the ride. While we were there, the Little Boys shared a sweet moment that caught my eye.

Some kids would be bothered by their little brothers following them around, but not Isaac. Nope. He's pleased to be Brady's big bro and is always happy to help him navigate whatever course they're taking.

While they stood in line waiting to play a random game, Brady observed and tried to figure out said game. A moment later, Isaac sidled up to him, huddled close, and explained what he needed to do to win a prize.

It was a heart-warmer for me. I love watching them love on each other, and I really love that I don't have to make them do it.

October 23

After school on some Thursdays, the kiddos stay after to play with some friends. Today, after spending time spinning and climbing and playing in the sand, they started up a casual soccer game.

Isaac and his buddy Thomas decided they wanted to team up with Brady against Abby and Peter. So, in short, that meant a preschooler and two first graders opted to compete against two fifth graders. A little unevenly matched.

The little boys were inevitably creamed by the big kids, but what mattered is that they tried really, really hard. And knowing how easy it is to just give up when things are hard, it was good to see that determination kick in.

October 22

The sunset this evening was breathtaking, but I almost missed it. (This picture is pretty lame, but it was the best I could do as the sun dipped lower behind the hills while I sat at a red light.)

With no dinner plan in mind and Adam unexpectedly running late, I made a snap decision to take the kiddos out to Arby's to get food. I was annoyed when we set out --frustrated with Adam for running behind, frustrated with myself for being without a plan-- but seeing those colors in the distant sky almost instantly changed my perspective. There's just something so soothing and disarming about those beautiful shades of pink and orange and yellow.

The sight made me remember the truth that even though things may not always go my way, I can still find the good if I'm open to seeing it.

October 21

Today marked another first for my girl: her first time as a safety valet at school. Brady and I spied on her this morning during her debut effort:

(She's wearing the orange and yellow vest; I know it's not the best pic but stealthy photos often aren't!)

Safety valets don't do a whole lot, to be honest: they just stand beside the drop-off/pick-up lane and usher cars forward, occasionally helping kids open and close doors. Their primary goal is to keep traffic moving along expeditiously.

It's Abby's first real responsibility role, and I'm proud of her for volunteering. It's a small thing, but it's yet another sign that she's transforming into a big girl. And for that, I'm grateful.

October 20

I don't really have a lot to say about today, but I figured I'd share one of the better moments.

Brady was really (really) excited about the Toadie he got from the birthday party goodie bag yesterday. He loves it so much, in fact, that as we got into the car to head to preschool this morning, he asked me to take his picture with it.

It's a small thing, but it made him happy. And sometimes, some days, that just has to be good enough to get me through.

October 19

We went en masse to a friend's birthday party this afternoon. I was a little surprised when, as Brady and Isaac bombed their way down an inflatable slide, Abby got in line to climb the wall.

Though it's not the first time she's mustered the courage to climb this particular wall, it's certainly the fastest that I've seen her get in line. Usually, she stares up at the top --from a safe distance, of course-- and hems and haws before finally deciding to give it a try. But not this time. This time she marched up, stood in line, and took her turn.

It's a quick tale of conquering fear and of trying new things. And that kind of fearlessness is a blessing.

October 18

It was just a low-key kind of day for me. It concluded in sweet fashion with this moment:

They're good kiddos, but they don't spend a lot of time actively being sweet with one another. They're much more likely to fight and bicker than they are to cuddle.

So the brief cuddly moments are always special ones.

October 17

I had dinner this evening with a good friend. It was a blessing to be able to just sit and chat for a while. And after dinner, we wandered around Target, because that's what I do!

While Corie admired some gray flats, I waxed poetic on the virtues of sparkly slip-ons. And then I spied these --which were on sale-- and knew they had to come home with me.

Kind of silly and impractical? Sure. But they remind me of Christmas and of the happy, warm feelings that accompany the holiday season.

And from now on, they'll remind me of this evening, when I trolled Target just window shopping and talking and having an understated-ly good time with a lovely friend.

October 16

I was a little frustrated a few minutes ago when I realized that I hadn't really had any distinctive "moments" today. And then I realized that today is a special day for at least two very important people in my life, so of course it makes sense that God would turn my heart toward them.

Gretchen (bottom pic, back row, the blonde third from the left) and I go way back to early elementary school. I don't have a lot of memories of my childhood, but I most definitely remember playing at her house and being in class together. Though we lost touch for a long while after my family moved, I was so happy to reconnect with her a few years ago via Facebook. She's a tender-hearted soul who's completely devoted to her family and friends; truly, I'm not sure a more loyal person exists. Anyway, today is her wedding anniversary. So happy anniversary, girl!

The second special person is Meg (top pic, curly hair). She was easily my best friend in high school. We navigated those challenging years together --literally-- in her dad's van, taking long drives through the country and sharing quesadillas and ice cream at Friendly's. I could probably write a lot about our misadventures, but to boil it down to its roots, I'll say that everyone needs that one friend who's always there to help sweep up the shards of the lesser parts of life. And for a while, she was that person for me. So happy birthday, Meg.

God blesses every single one of us via the people he places in our lives. So thank you, girls, for being where God put you and for having a lasting impact on me.

October 15

The kiddos were thrilled when we went outside this morning and they spied a few droplets on rain on the leaves of the tree that grows against the fence.

While it's both sobering and kind of sad to think that they could ever be so excited over something as simple as rain (which, for everyone out of our area, is a testament to how incredibly dry it's been here for the past few years), their shared attitude also reminded me of two truths. One, never, ever, ever forget to feel genuine gratitude and to express it. And two, notice, remember, and cherish the small things that are so easy to ignore.

October 14

I love watching my kids do little, fully unprompted things to be helpful to others.

Every day after the dismissal bell rings, Isaac fast-walks to the gate, just so he can stand there and hold it open for the small wave of kids heading out to meet their parents or day care providers in the pick-up lane.

I don't know why he enjoys the task so much, but he clearly does, and it clearly gives him a sense of accomplishment and a chance to show extra friendliness, as he also takes care to say good-bye to each and every kid he knows as they exit.

It's a small thing, but a good one nonetheless. And I'm glad I've noticed it.

October 13

Between my allergies and my ever-fluctuating emotions over Logan and how losing him makes me feel like less of a person, I'm fighting the temptation to let myself fall into a bad place. That's just the truth.

This afternoon, as Brady, Isaac and I walked from the school to the playground, a breeze ruffled my hair for a moment and I instinctively looked skyward.

As I briefly admired the sunlight streaming through the trees, I was reminded of the beauty that surrounds me every day. The warmth of the sun, the blue of the sky and the rustling of the wind in the trees are all stunning reminders of the goodness inherent in human existence.

And it's important to remember those things --those beautiful things that God created-- when life feels more challenging and painful than we'd like.

October 12

Adam usually puts the kids to bed. Since he's gone most of the day, it gives him the chance to spend one-on-one time with each of them. But since he's out of town for the week, the responsibility of course falls to me. I was very impressed this evening to realize how far Isaac has come with his reading skills.

When school started in August, he had zero interest in reading. He actively avoided nearly all opportunities to practice and made it very clear that it wasn't his thing. Well, at some point over the last six weeks, he's changed his tune. Tonight, he read me an entire story --a beginning reader, mind you, but still, an entire book. And when I went to check on him after I'd left Abby's room, he was lying in bed, under the glow of the blue lights that line his ceiling, reading that same book yet again.

It's such a blessing to see him learning to read. And it's an even bigger blessing to see him enjoying the process. I know that God is in his attitude's turnaround.

October 11

Today started off on a low note. After a night of fitful, heavily interrupted sleep, I was annoyed this morning to find that my sinuses had swelled completely shut. I have a long (long) history of severe sinus problems, so I decided not to screw with it, and at Adam's urging, I headed off to urgent care, and came away with a few new prescriptions that should help get it under control soon. I laid low as the day progressed. I finally came downstairs for dinner this evening, and after Adam took the boys to bed, I sat alone with Abby (well, she sat while I walked on the treadmill, but we won't mince words). And we watched "Caillou."

Yes, I know: it's an incredibly annoying show for preschoolers. It's actually probably the most maligned preschool show out there. But it's what she wanted to watch, so that's what we did.

I like that she's almost 10 yet still enjoys a little kid program now and again. And I like that she actually likes it --she told me that it's a "cute show" when I asked about her selection-- and isn't just tuning in to mock the characters. I want her to grow and mature and become who God intends her to be, but I also love the moments when I get glimpses of who she once was; of her as a spritely, sassy little three-year old with her sprout-y pigtails and many, many opinions.

For those things --the past, the present, and the future that still remains to come-- I'm thankful.

October 10

This morning, we took a field trip to the local pumpkin farm with Brady's preschool. Adam came along for the first time.

Atrocious allergies aside, I love fall. I love the pumpkins and the leaves (though there aren't many here, per se, I know they're out there in their stunningly colorful glory) and the cooler weather.

There's something just so deliciously wonderful about the predictable scene of seeing members of my family trotting contentedly through a pumpkin patch.

October 9

Brady picked a small handful of wishers this afternoon as we walked to the school. He said he was saving them for me and daddy. I told him he was very sweet to think of us, but that it would be okay if he used them. So he huffed and he puffed...

... and huffed and puffed, and then huffed and puffed some more. (I think one of his little treasures hadn't quite reached full wisher maturation yet so its seeds weren't quite ready to hit the wind.)

But still, he kept going, even when it was hard and frustrating; even when his desired outcome took some extra effort, he pushed onward.

And I think there's a lot of value in that: even when things are tough, keep going, and know that eventually, you'll be rewarded for your patient persistence.

October 8

My allergies are still flaring, so I woke up feeling badly at 3:30 this morning. Since I didn't want to wake up Adam with my coughing jags, I got out of bed and went downstairs for a little while. After a few minutes in front of the computer, I remembered the lunar eclipse that was supposed to happen at some point and got up to look outside. And though this image does it zero justice, I saw it:

It was a gorgeous night; clear, with stars dotting the heavens and that round, reddish moon right overhead. I went into the back yard to get a clearer view and wound up standing on the patio for quite some time, watching the subtle succession of changes in luminosity and color.

The sight made me realize how small we all really are. What a blessing it is to have a great big God who watches over us.

October 7

Once upon a time, I was worried about how Isaac would deal with being in school. Would the kids like him? Would he fit in? Would he be happy? Would his speech issues hold him back? And then things like this started happening...

...and those long-held concerns just melted away. Shortly after he got in line at school this morning, a few of his classmates arrived and they started playing Rock, Paper, Scissors.

And it's not an uncommon kind of occurrence for Isaac. He's sweet and kind and funny and the other kids seem to like him; even the ones who aren't his good buddies want to play with him at the park. Even the girls say hi and talk to him.

It's a blessing to see him thriving. I should've had faith about it all along, but it just goes to show that not only will God shine through despite our insecurities, He'll also do immeasurably more than we might expect.

October 6

Our water heater decided to bite the dust today. Fortunately for us, ours lives in the garage. Unfortunately, it looks like it leaked for a few days before it finally really let loose with its flood-y good(bad?)ness. But even in times of frustration, God still finds a way to shine through.

That is indeed a run-of-the-mill floor fan. After I asked via Facebook if any locals happened to have a fan I could borrow, my friend Laura piped up that she'd bring by not just one but two fans and a pizza. And that's just what she did. And you know something? The kids snarfed up the pizza, and the fans are busily working to dry out the concrete before tomorrow morning, when the repair person is scheduled to come by to assess the damage (and hopefully replace the unit so I can turn the water back on!).

People can often be disappointing, but they can also be awesome. And today, I'm thankful for awesome people.

October 5

Today's wink was so fleeting that had I blinked, it could easily have passed by unnoticed.

After church, we took our usual trip to the cemetery to water the flowers. When we arrived, I was startled to see that at long last, Logan's marker had been placed. Adam and I dragged our feet approving the design; after all, how can you ever make that kind of decision? How can you choose just a few words to memorialize your child? As I looked at it, I wondered if he would approve. What would he think of the race car and the little boy cuddling the lamb? Would he like the barely blue shade of grey when we'd hoped it would be a truer blue? And the font -- would he like it or find it too dull? As we got into the car to leave, I continued privately considering those concerns.

As we drove away and rounded the top of the hill, I glanced up and saw a tiny blue butterfly fluttering just outside my window. It seemed to linger for a moment, and then it was gone.

And then oddly, just a moment later, Adam laughed and exclaimed "well that was strange." I asked what he was talking about. And he said he'd seen a little butterfly fluttering outside his window. I quickly asked if it was blue; no, he thought it was more gray than blue. But still: the grey stone that was supposed to be blue and the lingering little bluish grey butterfly that both of us noticed at just the perfect moment.

Surely it meant something. If nothing else, I think it meant that Logan approved of his memorial. And that he's free to fly with the wind.

October 4

I had a "wow" moment this afternoon.

Brady and I happened to be walking behind Abby, Adam, and Isaac after lunch, when quite out of nowhere, I noticed that the top of Abby's head meets Adam's shoulder.

She's always been taller than the average bear, but it was startling to see her standing next to Adam and to realize how big she actually is. She's still a month shy of 10 years old and she's already so tall and beautiful.

It's a good thing.

October 3

Adam and I rarely have two-on-one time with any of the kiddos. But this afternoon, we picked up Brady from preschool and took him out to lunch.

So, he didn't really eat much of his food --I think he filled up during snack time at school-- but it was nice to just sit with him at the table and listen to him talk for a little while about his class and his friends.

The way kids think is truly remarkable: so simple but so profound. It's a blessing to be able to sit and really listen to what they have to say.

October 2

Regardless of whether my feelings are valid, lately, I've had the sense that people are starting to forget about Logan. He is, of course, always on my mind, but the idea of him fading into obscurity in general is upsetting, since to really know me, you have to know about him.

So this morning, I decided to play Farmville for a few minutes. It was one of his favorite games; he had a special affinity for those animated sheep and for harvesting his little colorful crops. I tried out a new feature that allowed me to trade gems for special prizes, and was giddy to be awarded this little cutie:

A "sunshine and rainbow sheep." It was just so perfect that I almost laughed when I saw it.

I guess Logan still likes his tiny animated sheep. Now I just need to find the perfect spot for this sweet sheepie on my farm.

October 1

I love how my babies take care of their babies.

When we drove over to the school to pick up Abby and Isaac today, Brady asked if he could bring his friends Bear Bear and Beggar along. I've posted about Bear Bear before --he was Logan's Christmas gift to Brady in 2011-- and my grandma gave him Beggar --who was previously named Little Beggar-- last year when we were visiting her. She'd had Little Beggar sitting on a chest beside her bedroom window for at least 25 years, so suffice it to say that those two little loveys are quite meaningful.

Anyway, as we were getting out of the car, he sweetly sat them in his car seat along with his pacifier so they'd be safe. Watching him care for his friends makes my heart smile every time.