September 30

Two of the kiddos had theme days at school today. In honor of the illustrious letter O, Brady channeled his inner traffic cone for Orange Day. And after a last-second reminder, I rifled through my stuff to find my Cal Ripken, Jr. shirt so Abby could take part in Jersey Day. One of these kids was thrilled to be participating. The other didn't respond with quite as much glee.

This image reminds me to treasure every single parenting moment; even --or maybe even especially-- the ones that make me crazy. Sure, I was annoyed that Abby copped an attitude with me (hence the weird expression on her face) right after she'd all but insisted that I find the jersey so she could wear it. But it's the ebb and flow of human life at work; things go wrong and we deal with complications and frustrations. But at its core, life is still good! And the bad moments can even be funny after time passes and I'm able to see them with refreshed perspective.

So yep, as strange as it seems, I'm thankful for those surly pre-teen moments that teach me so much about patience and hope and --down the line a little-- humor.

September 29

Today's cloudy skies were a blessing in multiple ways. One, because the absence of the sun's rays kept the air cooler. And then there was this:

We may tend to associate clear skies with happiness and "the good life," but the reality is that unless we see the clouds sometimes, we're missing out on the big picture; on how gorgeous life can be when we've faced less-than-rosy circumstances.

I know I've said all of that before --I'm more than 1,000 entries into this little exercise of mine so I'm bound to repeat myself!-- but it bears repeating: embrace the struggles, because when they're over, the way the light hits those clouds will create a scene that's more beautiful than you ever would've imagined possible.

September 28

I locked my keys in my car yesterday and didn't discover the gaffe until this morning, so I could've gone in that direction for this entry, but I cannot tell a lie: it's 10:31 PM, and this is the only photo I've taken today.

So this evening, I'm seeing God in this little person whose creativity and personality make me smile every single day; this little person who decided to wear a hoodie and a baseball cap even though it was probably 85 degrees outside.

Parenthood is challenging at times, but it's also important to recognize it as what it really is: the blessing that just keeps blessing.

September 27

As often happens of late, we traveled in gender-specific packs during our evening walk today, with Abby (and her like-dressed doll) strolling with me as the Little Boys and Adam walked a bit further ahead. Although I wasn't part of their chat, I overheard snippets of the boy-conversation, and it sounded like it was rife with references to Heaven, all inspired by the amazing sunset sky.

Several times, I heard Brady mention Logan and ask Adam when Jesus will come back. Another moment saw him make a sweeping gesture at the clouds and then compare them to Jesus' hands.

I love hearing them talk about Jesus and Heaven. And, of course, Logan. I love that all of those subjects are so accessible to the Little Boys and that they're so willing to talk freely about them when we're out and about. The innocence and pure, untainted faith of little children are absolutely precious, humbling, and inspirational things indeed.

September 26

Before I start today's entry, an observation. I totally forgot (and how, I have no idea, because I'd been looking forward to the occasion for months), but yesterday marked the 1000th entry in this blog of mine. Kinda neat, huh? I think so. Break out the confetti because here goes #1001.

Onto today. When Adam and I got married, the A's were in the midst of their historic 20-game win streak. (Literally. Our wedding took place the same day as streak win #4, with Mark Mulder on the mound against the White Sox.) We, of course, didn't catch that particular game, but we watched the streak play out from Hawai'i during our honeymoon, and then were in the house for a few of those exciting late-inning comebacks once we returned to the mainland. Along with the time I got Cal Ripken's autograph during his good-bye tour in 2001, those games rank high on my list of Great 'I Was There' Sports Moments. I wasn't there for today's nostalgia-filled Barry Zito versus Tim Hudson showdown, but I saw it on TV. And it took me back to simpler times.

Huddy and Zito are about the same age as Adam and me, so in a strange way, I feel like we grew up and began navigating the challenges of adulthood together. Of course, that's not entirely true; I may know all of their stats from their time as A's players, but they know nothing about us. (And that's totally cool. I'm happy not being famous.) But that doesn't mean I didn't watch today's game and feel a sense of loss knowing that it was the first --and last-- time they'd ever face-off in Oakland: Huddy is retiring, and Zito may well follow suit. It's a reminder that life operates on a continuum, and nothing ever really stays the same (except God!).

Anyway, today gave me the chance to revisit some really dear memories, and made me feel an even deeper sense of gratitude for having had those good times in the first place.

September 25

The preschool's annual ice cream social took place tonight, so as soon as we finished with dinner, we piled into the van and headed over.

We chatted with friends and enjoyed whipped cream-and-sprinkle-laden sweet treats and played on the playground, and I briefly stole away from the crowd to visit the photo of Logan that hangs on his one-time classroom wall. But it didn't hit me until we went upstairs to check out the book fair and I looked across the playground at the fading sunlight in the distance: this was our last SLP ice cream social.

Since Brady is the baby, this year --and every year that follows-- will be filled with lasts. When it finally dawned on me, my heart broke a little because I'm not really ready to say good-bye to those precious, irreplaceable first years when life is dedicated to exploring the world and learning the basics of human life; before we're burdened with the cares of a broken world.

But at the same time, I felt a sense of gratitude, because I'm keenly aware that not everyone gets the chance to enjoy the wonder of raising little ones into bigger ones. It's not an easy life, but it's a good one.

September 24

I'm cheating a little because the exchange I'm about to share happened a few days ago, but when I drove by the sign that precipitated the whole thing this afternoon, it jogged my memory and made me smile all over again.

As Brady and I sat at a red light a few days ago, I glanced in my rear view mirror and saw him looking quizzically at something in the distance. I asked what he was thinking about, and he replied 'why is a man falling down on that sign?' My gaze followed his, and I snickered to myself when I saw it: a regular 'walk' sign that had somehow lost its top bolt, leaving it to hang sideways. I explained that no, it wasn't actually a 'man falling' sign, and Brady accepted the rationale, though I'm not convinced he really bought it.

I love those moments; the ones when something that's so commonplace to adults that we ignore it is seen entirely differently through a kid's curious eye. It's the kind of experience that makes me want to view things from the perspective of the five-and-under crowd, and that's a blessed thing indeed.

September 23

After Isaac left his backpack at home yesterday morning and I had to drive back to get it, I told him that he needed to work on being more responsible. Then that was that, and we all moved on with our days.

This morning, this was on the family room table when I got up.

It's a to-do list that he wrote up for himself.

I love that Isaac tries so hard to do the right things. I'd forgotten about the backpack incident, but he clearly hadn't, and was making a conscious effort to be better organized (and of course, to please me).

It's really less about pleasing me and more about him being a good person, but I'm blessed that both of those apply.

September 22

I know I've talked about this before, but Brady truly loves his BearBear, the stuffed animal that Logan got him for Christmas shortly before he passed on. Today, Brady brought his buddy along on all of our errands; to drop-offs, the dentist, afternoon pick-ups, and then the dentist again (when we went back in the afternoon for the day's second round of appointments). I took this shot right after we'd walked to the school to retrieve Isaac.

Most of the time, he treats that bear like a baby; he cuddles him and talks to him and carefully holds him so his bottom and head are supported. He tells him stories and makes sure that he waves good night when I leave his room at bedtime.

It's a blessing to me to see him lavishing such pure affection on "someone" for whom he cares. Methinks he'll be a good man some day.

But beyond all of that, this scene makes me cognizant that he won't always want to hug his teddy bear while we're out in public, and that bittersweet knowledge makes me treasure the little moments all the more.

September 21

While I watched the Little Boys play at the park this morning between drop-off times, I caught a glimpse of something moving around on my sunglasses, so I took them off to have a look. And I saw this.

It's itty bitty, but if you look closely, you can see the tiny green worm near the edge of the frame. I watched it for a few minutes, quite literally marveling over how it deftly, patiently inched its way around the lens and how its neon green body shimmered in the sunlight.

A completely amazing little creation, just as human beings are (markedly bigger) amazing creations. We all probably look like that little green inchworm to God --so small that you could almost miss us-- yet He regards each and every single one of us with the same brand of wonder that I showed my little passenger.

I matter. You matter. We all matter. I think that's awfully good news.

September 20

The 49ers ugly-lost to the Steelers today, but the disappointing outcome didn't stop our resident sports-enthusiasts from taking in the action together. (Well, the cat was there too. But I'm not entirely sure she's a fan.)

Abby doesn't care a lick about sports. Any sports. Brady is more into cars and video games. And Logan, well, I have no idea if he would've been interested, but I suspect that given his slick moves at age 4, his passion may well have aligned a little better with the world of dance. But Isaac is most definitely Adam's little athletics buddy. It's not a formal thing, but when a game --basketball, baseball, football, soccer, you name it-- is on the tube, there's a good chance that I'll find the two of them watching together from that corner spot on the couch.

And it's always a blessing to see my kiddos just hanging out and bonding with their dad. It may sound corny, but the sight reminds me that God wants us to just chill and bond with Him, too.

September 19

Today, the mercury once again swelled to 100 degrees. (And yes, it's getting very, very old. Fall starts on the 23rd, for pete's sake! Bring me some pumpkins and spice and hot apple cider and blue jeans! But I digress.) But the air was comfortably dry, so we hit the street to take our customary evening walk.

As we strolled, we could hear a loud grinding noise off in the distance. Everywhere we went, it was ERRR! ROAR! CHOMP!. After much mulling over what we thought was causing the ruckus, we at long last came upon the source of the cacophony: a stump grinder hard at work chewing up old branches over near the elementary school. As we rushed to escape the jarring noise, I had a number of random but still pointed thoughts: how rude to do this at 6:40 PM on a Saturday. How gross does it smell?!. (And most commonly) I wonder when it'll end. But then I looked off to the side and saw this.

See it? The filtered, sunbeam-esque rays of light tucked between the trees?

Without that irritatingly loud stump grinder's action-- which tossed up the dust that caught the light that formed them-- these pretty rays wouldn't have existed. And I wouldn't have had the occasion to think I bet the air in Heaven looks like that every day (but without the stinky smell).

Again, something beautiful arises from something not-so-lovely. I think it happens every day; the kind of stuff we miss if we're not actively looking.

September 18

When I picked up Isaac from school a few days ago, he told me he'd gotten an Eagle Ticket for following the teacher's directions when no one else in the class was paying attention. (It's a sort of reward system the school uses to encourage and award the development of positive character traits.) At the end of each week, the front office does a drawing and one kid from each grade level wins a little prize, and this week, they called Isaac's name.

So we went in right after the bell and he picked out the reward he wanted: a little junior police badge.

I'm proud of who he is. He's considerate and kind and patient, and he genuinely cares about other people. I'm thankful that he's been blessed with such a pure heart and that he pays attention to his conscience.

My kids know that we're not rewarded --other than feeling the satisfaction of knowing we're doing what God would have us do-- for doing the right thing most of the time, but it was a blessing to me to see his good effort recognized.

September 17

Pick-up times are a bit chaotic this year, but it's okay: it's just a season, and I'm sure that before I can complete a full blink, it'll be over. I fell a few paces behind the Little Boys as I walked to the car after retrieving Isaac this afternoon. When I caught up, I found them walking along hand in hand.

I've thought it and written it and said it before, but it bears repeating: I love that they're good friends. That was the goal I had in mind as I suffered through four pregnancies in relatively rapid succession. One very big thing may have gone very, very, very wrong along the way, but I'm thankful that Isaac and Brady are buddies, and that their sense of brotherhood is strong.

September 16

I was a little surprised when Abby decided to join me for my quick evening walk tonight, partly because she usually avoids taking superfluous strolls and partly because she'd already taken a shower by then and was wearing her pajamas. But she (and her doll) did indeed wind up coming along.

Before we headed out the door, I suggested she may want to put on a jacket, and she scoffed at the idea, reminding me that not only is it still summer time, but she was wearing winter PJs so there was really no need.

I was quietly pleased. I love that, for the most part, she doesn't care what anyone else thinks of what she wears. I could learn a lot from her in that regard, and that little reminder to just be me no matter what served as a meaningful little lesson.

September 15

Sixty-five degrees is good ice cream weather, right?

Although the mercury nearly broke last week with 100-plus degree temps, irony had it that today --the date of the elementary school's annual ice cream social-- would feature bordering-on-cold wind and jackets a'plenty. But of course, the colder weather didn't dampen the young ones' enthusiasm.

I love this picture. Though the wind whipped around their faces and the air was a good 30 degrees cooler than it was a week ago, this little trio had a grand time sitting at a table, laughing, and noshing on their sticky, sprinkle-and-chocolate-syrup-coated treats.

To be totally honest, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to deal with the inconvenience of taking them over to the school after hours. I didn't want to be cold. And I didn't want to sugar them up just a few hours before bed time. But you know something? I'm glad we went, because watching them be silly reminded me that having fun and interacting with friends --relating to others-- are vital elements of surviving this life we're living. And for those basic little reminders, I'm thankful.

September 14

The sky this morning was magnificent.

I continually found myself looking up at the mottled clouds that concealed the sun and filtered its light into beautiful, ethereal rays; some of the longest, most impressive rays I've ever seen.

It made me think of the promise of Heaven. And that's always a blessing.

September 13

Adam likes to bake. When I got up yesterday morning, I found that he'd made a coffee cake, and I was excited.

He's made this particular treat in the past, so I knew it would be good: moist and marbled with the perfect amount of cinnamon and sugar. And I was right.

It's not something I focus on very often, but both tasty food and the people who know how to concoct said confections are luxurious blessings.

September 12

When we go to Red Tractor, the kids always get coloring sheets to help fill the dreaded "waiting void." I love seeing what they come up with. For a while, Brady only wanted to draw ninjas (or to have someone else draw them). Abby often likes turning the pre-printed scene into something entirely unique. And Isaac, oddly enough, frequently uses the blank space to practice math facts. But today, he went in an entirely different direction.

He drew a racetrack and then asked us who should compete. Brady was quick with a response: Lightning McQueen, Chick Hicks, and The King. Isaac complied, and soon enough, the three cars with faces were racing in suspended animation along his loop.

I love that "Cars" is still part of our daily life. Hearing the Little Boys talk about those characters makes Logan feel a little less far away.

September 11

Today was what I've come to call a Logan day; a day when multiple references to my Sunshine come in rapid and seemingly inexplicable fashion. Sometimes I'm not exactly sure why one of these days comes about, but the significance of today's date --the 11th-- isn't lost on me.

With that said, I did my usual Corvette and 'cars with faces' checks this morning during a shopping trip, and was surprised to find several that I hadn't previously seen.

When I walked back out to the lot, I noticed a sleek silver Corvette parked out in front of the store with a license plate referencing the Hawaiian Island of Kaua'i; Kaua'i is where Adam and I went to decompress a few months after Logan passed on, and it's such a beautiful, tranquil place. Then when I got into the car (my minivan, not the Corvette), I turned the key in the ignition just as the opening bars of the "Cars" theme song played on the radio. I stopped and smiled, not just at the song, but at the entire string of events.

I love those overt signals, and I'm thankful whenever God sees it fit to send them my way.

September 10

I'm so rarely privy to what happens during the school day that I found this sight entirely amusing.

After I spent a few hours at the elementary school helping out with picture day, I headed out to retrieve Brady from his school. As I walked to the car, I passed through the courtyard, where several classes were enjoying lunchtime. I turned and happened to see Isaac sitting with his good friends, laughing as he munched on his food. I whirled around, marched back to the table, pulled out my phone, and snapped a quick pic for posterity's sake. Then I waved and left.

Like all moms, I quietly worry about how my kids do at school when I'm not there to watch out for them. Of course I do have a degree of faith at play, but there's something wonderful when, every now and then, I get to see for myself that they're doing well. So it did my heart so, so much good to catch a glimpse of Isaac happy and comfortable when he didn't know I was watching.

September 9

Due to our circumstances, precious few people will ever have the opportunity to get to know all four of my kids, but Christina is one member of that exclusive little club.

She was Abby's pre-K teacher back in 2008, and then both Logan and Isaac had her for their respective 3s classes in the years that followed. After a few years with other wonderful and caring teachers and a late-in-the-game teacher change, we came full circle today as Brady began his own tenure as one of her little ones.

We've loved and appreciated every teacher we've had in preschool, but the truth is that she will always hold a unique spot in my heart. She knew Abby and Logan and Isaac and now Brady; all four of my sweet babies. And even if her memories of them wax and wane as the years pass by, my memories of her being with them never will; I'll always have the gift of seeing her with Brady and remembering her with Logan five years ago.

So for her and for the school year that's just begun, I'm thankful.

September 8

Tomorrow, Brady begins his third and final year of preschool. I haven't given it much thought yet, probably because when I do, I'll probably cry, and I don't really have the energy to have a proper emotional meltdown at the moment. (But I'll get around to it. The joys of parenthood, huh? Compartmentalization at its best.)

Anyhow, I asked him what he wanted to do this morning to observe his last last-day-before-preschool, and he said he wanted to go to a new park. So that's what we did.

I followed him as he ran from one piece of equipment to the next, climbing ladders and scaling nets and swinging on a giant hammock and whooshing down slides.

At one point, he cautiously wormed his way through this little structure. As he neared the top level, he turned to me and flashed a brilliant grin.

It was warm outside --the second day in what's expected to be the most significant heat wave of the year, in fact-- but I loved watching him do his thing, beautifully embracing the freedom and innocence given to him by God.

September 7

It'd been quite some time since we'd taken a day trip, so we decided to hike up part of Mt. Diablo late this morning and into the afternoon. The description of the Juniper Trail that Adam found online said it was an "easy" path that's "good for small children" and after walking it... hahaha! As if! But anyway, the views were nice, we made it with (relatively) minimal whining, and it was nice to be out of the house together sharing an adventure.

At one point along the way, we passed through a small area that had obviously been scorched by a fire during some yesteryear.

As I passed by, I mused over how amazing it is that life has continued on around those scarred and battered trees; in fact, there are so many other, younger plants and shrubs that surround them that they don't really jump out at you if you're not deliberately looking at them. But I overheard Adam's impression, and I like it much better.

As he walked with Brady, he pointed out the burnt remains and remarked "hey, it looks like they're dancing." Dancing regardless of their terrifying, devastating collective past. Pretty deep thought, if you ask me. And of course, a good reminder to keep dancing no matter what.

September 6

Abby's been very interested in her American Girl dolls of late. She already had a doll bed, but she bedazzled it with stick-on gems, and the she constructed a table for them using a cardboard box. (I was truly impressed with her ingenuity.) Then tonight at dinner, she mused over the fact that her doll couldn't eat the homemade pizza us humans enjoyed, so she emerged from her room with this.

I love this for so many reasons. For one, it shows off her creativity. For another, it demonstrates her problem solving ability. But beyond those things, it shows that she cares. It's just a doll, but if she cares enough to make her *doll* a meal, how much more must she care for living, breathing, people?

On a grander scale, it reminded me of how well God cares for all of us. And it's always good to remember that fact.

September 5

It's not uncommon for lyrics to run themselves ragged on the little hamster wheel in my mind. Lately, the words to Maddie and Tae's "Fly" have gotten the workout.

So keep on climbing, though the ground might shake / Just keep on reaching though the limb might break / We've come this far, don't you be scared now / 'Cause you can learn to fly on the way down...

So when I saw Isaac attempting to scale this massive palm tree at the park this evening, of course those words came to mind once again.

I pray that my kids will be loving and kind yet tenacious adults. I hope they'll be passionate about the things that are truly important, and I hope that they'll always keep dreaming big dreams and trying to do what's right, even if they may look silly doing it. I pray that even when they fall, they'll get back up again.

But for now, I'm just thankful that Isaac thought he could climb that ginormous tree because it gives me hope for the future. If we all thought we could do the impossible, just think of the incredible things God could accomplish through us in this tired world.

September 4

I love a rainbow, even if it's not the typical precipitation-induced kind.

I looked up this evening as we walked and saw this in the distance. It's just a little bit of color, but the reminder of God's faithfulness made me smile, as did the hum of Abby's persistent chatter in my ear. At it's core, it was a lovely night to be outside: cool air, light breeze, clear skies, and great company. It doesn't get much better than that.

September 3

Brady and I sat outside Starbucks this morning after drop-off. (Yes, we've done that several times over the past few weeks.) For a while, I just watched him munch on hid Goldfish crackers as I drank my coffee. We enjoyed some mommy-kid chit-chat, and then with school starting next week, I figured I should do a little bit of flagrant-teaching-on-the-sly. So I asked him what letters he could see.

Just five minutes later, we'd read several of the words printed on the window, and he'd successfully sounded out a few basic sight words. I was really pleased for him, because he was clearly proud of himself. When it comes to learning, I don't push my preschoolers. I never have, and I don't plan to push Brady, either, because I figure he'll have the rest of his life to be pushed and pressed and prodded in various educational settings. I like their learning to arise from natural circumstances, so it was a blessing to see him thinking and putting together those sounds today, just because he wanted to do it. Those moments when I stop and think 'wow, being a parent and watching my kids grow is so amazing' are some of the most profound God-moments of them all.

(And as an aside, it was kind of hilarious when, at the dinner table, Adam asked Brady if he'd read any words today, and after thinking, he replied 'no smoking!' A very good lesson all around, I'd say.)

September 2

This jar had been sitting on the table for months, but I'd never opened it. In fact, no one had opened it. Until tonight, that is.

During dinner, while Adam asked Abby about her day, Brady twisted off the lid and pulled out the first of four little papers, which he held up for Isaac to read.

I love you because sometimes you play with me.

The second note read something like I love you because you're my brother, and the third and fourth expressed two additional "I love you because..." statements from the littlest brother to the middle brother. My heart smiled as I watched Brady proudly hold up each strip of paper. It nearly spilled over with emotion as I listened to Isaac read each one aloud. And I thought it might explode entirely as Brady shyly smiled as Isaac spoke the words he'd dictated.

Affection between siblings is such a gift from God.

September 1

Most of my family was in rare form tonight at Costco. After Adam grilled the kiddos about their respective days, we set off with the shopping cart and the craziness ensued.

I have no idea how the subject came up, but Adam and I had just told the kiddos about the old "Dick and Jane" early reader books when Adam busted out with his own decidedly amusing version of the story. And the kids busted a gut laughing.

It usually annoys me when they get out of control, but watching them all laugh so heartily was such a release for me. Seeing them all happy, all at the same time... a blessing.