December 31

It's so hard to believe that yet another year has come and gone. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of the fifth (!) year of this little blog of mine. It started out as a means of coping with overwhelming grief by finding God in every single day. Though it's continued to do that over the years and will continue to serve that vital purpose in the future, it's also become something I hadn't intended it to be: a log of my blessings and a day by day, chapter by chapter rendering of our life as a family. A storybook. And I am so thankful to have this storybook to share with my kiddos.

With all of that weighty stuff said, I'll get on with today's thought. As we so often do, we took a walk this afternoon. It was chilly but clear out, and quite a lovely day for a stroll (or a bike ride, if you were one of our kids). I deliberately had us stop to take this photo during a pause on what we've come to call The Long Path:

God never promised that human life would be easy, but He promised to be present. And I can sense his presence with us every single day in an assortment of little ways: in the sun, the sky, the trees, the wind, the Cars with faces I trip over on the carpet, and most importantly to me, in the faces of these people.

And also in the love that I will always hold in my heart for my Logan, who is --as is often the case-- represented here by his dear Lambie, who I decided --at the last second-- to bring along for today's journey. Nope, life is not perfect. But it's good, I wish you all a blessed, God-wink filled 2017.

December 30

Brady is the only one of my kids who flatly refused to take dance classes: Logan took a year (and would absolutely have continued had he not gotten sick), Isaac had three years, and Abby is currently in her ninth. But Brady? Nope. Wasn't gonna happen. Period. End of story. Ironically, though, he's the biggest dancer in the house right now.

As the credits played after we watched Shrek 2 this evening, my little sassypants couldn't resist jumping to his feet and swerving his hips to the music. In fact, that tends to happen whenever he hears music with a good beat. He shakes and laughs and shakes some more. (And, as evidenced by this image, makes plenty of sassy faces.)

I love that he quietly likes to dance. And I love that whenever he gets up to shake his moneymaker, I have flashbacks of Logan doing the same. It's bittersweet, of course, and always will be, but it's such a blessing to see that part of him manifested in his littlest brother.

December 29

Earlier this week, Abby asked if we could have brunch at the Black Bear Diner, so that's what we did this morning.

I know I've been a bit repetitive this week, but I have to repeat myself again: it was really nice to travel en masse, and super nice just sit at the table, chat, and eat without worrying about cleaning up or doing the dishes.

December 28

It was another quiet day 'round these parts. I slept in, then mostly bummed around the house until Adam asked if we wanted to go for a walk. (We did. Some of us were happier about it than others, and I finally got to see Evel Knievel --aka Brady-- operating his scooter.) Then this evening, after we watched Shrek, the kiddos decided they wanted to dogpile.

So they did just that: they giggled and yelped and dogpiled in (and around) the easy chair in our family room for a good 10 miles.

Ah, togetherness: 'tis a sweet blessing.

December 27

Today, I visited the DMV to renew my license (the horror! But really, the appointment system is a stroke of genius. I was in and out in 10 minutes flat). Then we went to Costco to restock on essentials this afternoon, and after we got back home, I rested and Abby played on her computer while Adam took the Little Boys on a walk with their scooters. Later, we had dinner and watched a Narnia movie, and the boys played a game one of them received for Christmas.

It was a chill kind of day; nothing really exciting, nothing really notable, nothing remarkable. But it was a nice day nonetheless, and nice, unremarkable days when we just live and love in boring, everyday ways are blessings.

December 26

Just a few short years ago, Abby really disliked shopping. She disliked it so much that she'd ask me to buy clothes for her so she could try them on at home. Her desire to avoid all stores was strong, but times have changed considerably.

Today my little shopping buddy and I hit the shops for some day-after-Christmas shopping. We didn't buy a lot, but we had fun trekking from store to store.

As I told her while we drove to lunch afterward, I like hanging out together. I may have ended up with just one daughter, but she's a pretty terrific one to have.

December 25

All in all, it was a peaceful Christmas Day. We like to circle the wagons and keep our California Christmases just for our immediate family, so that's just what we did.

The Little Boys tried to start the day ultra early; I heard them playing at 1:30 AM and told them it was much too early to get up (which prompted a clearly only-partially-awake Isaac to muse 'gee, my watch must be really wrong!' as he trotted back to bed). We got started in earnest about five hours later with stockings before we paused for a quick breakfast of cinnamon buns and trees. (Trees are the traditional Wight family Christmas morning fare.) And then it was on to presents: video games and movies and lots of cat shaming for me.

The early afternoon hours saw us head to the cemetery to visit Logan's grave --thank you to whomever left the beautiful plant-- and then Abby and I bummed around the house while the boys went for a walk with their new scooters. We finished the day with pot roast, potatoes, carrots, rolls, and pumpkin pie and a viewing of the Angry Birds Movie.

It was a beautiful day, really. A lovely day to enjoy each other's company and to remember Jesus' blessed birth. And to be thankful --in the deepest way possible-- that His birth made renewed life a reality.

December 24

During our at-home years, Christmas Eve always includes a trip to Adam's parents' house to celebrate. There's a good meal and time to chat and gift-opening. And for the past several years, there's been an incarnation of this photo taken:

The kiddos had fun playing with their younger cousins and there were plenty of amusing moments as the afternoon progressed, from the trio of ugly Christmas sweaters Adam's mom gifted Adam, his dad, and his brother (which they immediately tried on, being the excellent sports they are) to my brand new Boston Red Sox tree ornament. (For the record, I greatly dislike the Red Sox, but Adam's mom inadvertently transposed the Red Sox and the Orioles (since they're "both teams back east"). I don't even care -- I know that I'll laugh every time I look at that ornament, and that's a very good thing).

Family is far from perfect, but it's a blessing anyway.

December 23

As time has passed, I've come to realize that parenting is paradoxical: some days, the kids absolutely make me feel exponentially older than the wall calendar says I am. But they also hold the power to make me feel considerably younger, too. There's quite a lot of ebb and flow.

But one thing doesn't ebb or flow: I love this kind of scene. Smiling, giggling, having a good time, hanging out. I so want them to be great friends, and those times when that happens --like it did at Adam's cousin Amanda's baby shower this evening-- are true blessings.

December 22

You know how once or twice in a blue moon, you meet a new person and feel an almost immediate sense of camaraderie? That's how it was for me when I met Kathy earlier this year. Our launching point was a shared baseball team (Isaac and her son played together in the spring), and from there, we learned that our kids had attended the same preschool. In fact, as it happened, I'd heard of her and she'd heard of me, but neither of us connected the dots particularly expeditiously. I've come to know her as a really lovely person, and I know I can be real with her without fear of judgment.

Anyhow, we had coffee earlier this week as we occasionally do. After she left, I wished I'd had the chance to expand on an observation I'd made. I considered texting her the rest of my thoughts, but couldn't find a way to make it make sense in writing. So I let the subject lie, but not without an ounce of regret resting atop my heart.

Fast forward to this morning. After Brady's (adorable) kindergarten sing-a-long at school, I headed over to Starbucks and plunked down at a vacant table with my cuppa joe. When I looked up from my phone after a few minutes, I was genuinely surprised to see her standing in line. So already long story short, I called her over and finished the thought I'd so wanted to finish.

I absolutely love it when God provides these little "chance" encounters just when we need (or sometimes, merely want) them. And I am so very thankful for Kathy and for all of the friends who have stuck with me in spite of my circumstances and, in some cases and at some times, in spite of me being me.

December 21

Isaac's class holiday party was this afternoon, and I was one of the parent volunteers. I oversaw the card creation table, but they also made gift bags, played Jingo (jingle bingo, get it? I didn't), and decorated cookies. It was exactly what I expect a third grade party to be: fun and cacophonous.

Good teachers --the ones who really dedicate themselves to making sure their students are happy and learning and living up to their potential-- are such a huge blessing. So today, I'm thankful for all of the great educators my kids have been blessed to know.

December 20

It was a nice day: coffee with a friend, then a doctor's appointment for Brady (which ended with the welcome revelation that we can wait on having his tonsils removed... for now), then a quick child-requested stop at Target, where I found a hard-to-find item for which another friend had been looking. (Remember the guy who gifted me the Hot Wheels Corvette? I found a car he hadn't been able to find but wanted. I love being able to offer up happy surprises, so I was pretty pleased to find it.) Then this evening, we drove around town to look at Christmas lights.

Although it was chilly out, we got out of the car to wander around one of the more impressive displays. In addition to an impressive front yard, these particular people fill their backyard with the most incredible menagerie of lights, light-up animals, animated creatures, dolls, you name it, they have it. It was fun to walk along with our family, but especially with Brady, who oohed and aahed --literally-- over the bears and penguins and, well, pretty much all of it. More than once, I heard him draw in a sharp breath as he took in the brightly colored scenes, and more than once, it reminded me of his biggest brother's awestruck reaction to Santa so many years ago.

The unbridled, unashamed, refreshingly self unaware wonder of a child is an amazing gift.

December 19

There was actual ice on my windshield this morning when I went outside to take the kids to school. I know that's no big thing for some of you, but to us thin-blooded Californians, it's an unwelcome weather oddity. I don't own an ice scraper, but thanks to a spur-of-the-moment flash of genius by Abby, I was able to clear off the glass with Legos, and then we were off. (Yep, Legos. Worked like a charm.)

Anyhow, suffice it to say that it was cold, and it stayed cold outside all day long, so my heavy coat ventured from its hanger in the closet for the first time this season.

As I went about my day and wasn't cold, this wussy transported Marylander felt a profound sense of gratitude for this coat and for the warmth it provides. It's a simple thing that's a very big blessing.

December 18

This morning, the kids took part in our church's first Nativity play in quite a few years. Abby was Mary, Isaac was the third innkeeper and a scripture reader, and Brady was a shepherd. Lambie also made an appearance as a sheep. A friend suggested that Brady carry him, and oh, what it did to my heart to see him up there representing Logan. As the youngsters like to say, it brought all the feels (and then some). And in a decidedly bittersweet but overwhelmingly good way.

They all did a great job. There were moments of audience laughter, like when Abby and her Joseph, who stands more than a foot shorter than she, "rode" their donkey into Bethlehem, and when the little sheep plunked himself down during a carol and proceeded to pick his nose for a good 30 seconds.

But it was beautiful, too, because it's a truly beautiful thing to see children uniting to re-enact the story of Jesus' birth. These sweet little ones showed up, learned their lines, and with an innocence that fades after childhood draws to a close, helped to share the Gospel in a way that adults simply cannot. And for that blessing, I'm thankful.

December 17

I blinked and bam, it's already mid-December. What?! So today we engaged in some fun Christmas traditions: decorating gingerbread cookies, and driving around to look at Christmas lights.

It was fun to watch them express their creativity with sprinkles and cinnamon candies. And then this evening, it was fun to ride around together, oohing and aahing over the ornate light displays. But our favorite display of all was new to us: the live Nativity at a church in the next town over. It took quite a while to get in, but the production was lovely. And absolutely a nice way to bring the real Reason for the Season to the forefront of my heart.

December 16

I have two different things to comment on for today. One has a photo representation, one does not.

Item one: Adam worked from home today and texted me while I was out to ask if I wanted to go to lunch. So we did just that. We had a lovely chat over some tasty pizza.

The second item came to mind a few hours later. As I crossed the playground at the elementary school to pick up Isaac from school, a boy called out 'hi Isaac's mom!' and we had a quick conversation about baseball. It was just a brief and largely mundane chat, but in the moment, I was struck by how blessed I am that so many of the kids at the school recognize me. It means I'm present. And that's a very good thing.

December 15

I have a lot of disconnected thoughts percolating in my little brain right now, but I haven't been able to put them into any kind of comprehensible order, so I'll keep it simple. Abby did her Christmas routine for musical theater tonight, and afterward, we got to see her class's recital costume. (It's music from "Hairspray," so I'm thinking it'll be really cute.)

I so love watching her enjoy herself, especially on a day like today when it felt like the world was primed to boil over with frustration and discontent.

December 14

Six years ago this morning, I gave birth to my fourth child. My baby, my little muffin, my Brady. The one who, while in my womb, traveled to and from and to and from and to and from the hospital where his biggest brother underwent treatment. The one who, in some ways, saved me more than once. The one who makes me laugh with his hip-swerving ("because 'swerve' is a cool word, mom!") and makes my heart swell with pride when he's preternaturally kind or polite. This guy.

He celebrated his big number six at kindergarten with his friends; it happened to be Pajama and Polar Express Day, so he even got to put on a brand new pair of Paw Patrol PJs and sip hot cocoa during class, in addition to conducting a rendition of the silly birthday song, leading the Days of the Week Song, and sharing some photos of his siblings.

After pick-up, we had lunch at home, picked up Abby and Isaac, and headed off to take birthday photos. And then it was off again, this time to swimming class, before we headed home for good to have dinner (In N Out), presents, and cake.

A full day. A busy day. But a blessed day. Happy birthday, Brady. I love you more than I can possibly express with mere words.

December 13

I don't want to say that the last five years have hardened my heart. Maybe they have, a bit, or maybe I've just learned to shut off my emotions when they're inconvenient in order to keep moving forward. But regardless of the reality and the reasons, I completely lost my crap while watching the season finale of The Voice tonight.

I was only peripherally paying attention when Kelly Clarkson and Billy Gilman began singing 'It's Quiet Uptown' from Hamilton. But for reasons beyond my understanding, it drew me in, and as I listened to the vocals and the rise and fall of the instrumentals, it felt painfully familiar. So I looked up the song's meaning and as it continued playing in the background, its inexplicable appeal came into focus: it's about struggling to cope with the "unimaginable" grief of losing a son. And it does such a beautiful job of putting that pain into words --and, honestly, into a mess of largely disconnected thoughts and phrases-- that it spoke to me. Because that's what it's like: it's disconnected and inconsistent and lonely and too quiet and too loud all at once. But somehow, this particular song transforms the cacophony into something beautifully lyrical.

Although it was something of a painful experience, it's always a blessing to feel like someone else understands.

December 12

This is part of our mantel right now:

I haven't historically been big on doing much in the way of seasonal decorations, but it felt right adding these bits and pieces, especially when I just happened to come across the black and white photo of all four kids from back in 2010. It was probably Christmas Eve, which made Brady just 10 days old, and I absolutely love how happy they all look.

I may have had my hands beyond full with a newborn, a four-year old cancer patient, a two-year old, and a six-year old, but I truly had it all. And though I miss that sweet child every single day, I'm blessed that we had that time together. And more blessed that we'll be together again, some day.

December 11

At church this morning, we did as we've done for a few weeks now and watched a video explaining the lighting of the day's Advent candle. Since the video featured just scripture printed on the screen, Brady --who can't read-- had no idea what was going on. And then Isaac stepped in.

My heart swelled as I watched the Bigger Brother dutifully read his Little Brother the words as they appeared on the screen. He missed a few here and there, but gave Brady enough to understand.

He didn't do it because someone told him to; goodness knows, it would've been just as easy for Adam or I to lean over and do the translation. He did it because he's been blessed with both maturity beyond his eight years and a kind heart. And for those things, I'm thankful.

December 10

Some evenings, after the kids have gone to bed, I'll find Adam just lying in front of the Christmas tree, looking up at the lights.

We have the kind that alternate between white and colored, and I have to admit that there's something soothing about watching them gradually change from one to the other and then back again. It's kind of like pressing a reset button. And some days, pushing that button and sitting and deliberately remembering the handful of Christmases that I shared with that boy there in the picture is just what I need to do.

December 9

Adam was in Germany this week, so I was doing the whole solo-parenting thing. Fortunately, he got back this afternoon so we're all under the same roof again. But he had an extremely unlikely and fortuitous encounter at the Frankfurt airport before he got on the plane to head home.

He was en route to buying some snacks for his flight when he heard someone call his name. When he turned around, he saw a blonde woman looking right at him. He knew she looked familiar, but he hadn't gotten much sleep and couldn't immediately place the face. As it turns out, she was one of Logan's nurses at CHO, and she still thinks about him and us and asked how we've been.

He said he didn't really thank her for saying hi, so Jeni, if you're reading this, you have our gratitude because that chance encounter --seriously, at the airport in Germany?!-- meant so, so much to him. Given how difficult special seasons can be for us, it was such a blessing for him to come into contact with someone from the past who remembers our Sunshine.

(PS -- The second virtual miracle? He texted me the entire exchange at midnight and despite the string of dings that my phone must've emitted, I didn't wake up! For a light sleeper like me, that's an incredible thing indeed.)

December 8

It's been a long week, and I'm thankful that it's almost over! With the Little Boys (trying to sneak down the stairs every few minutes but still) "in bed", I'm chilling with my girl and a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie on TV.

The Cars blanket that makes me think of Logan, banter with Abby, and a seasonal flick on the tube. A nice evening, I think.

December 7

I love watching my kiddos take care of one another.

After swimming tonight, Brady struggled to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Since I'm the unofficial towel, shirt, pants, and goggle holder (and I'm generally not interested in getting wet when I'm wearing clothes), there wasn't a lot I could do to help, but I was totally heartened when Abby stepped in to help him. I didn't have to say a word: she just did it.

It's a blessing to realize that in spite of my many failings as a parent, my kids are growing up to be genuinely kind people.

December 6

Today brimmed with blessings. I found something special while shopping that I never thought I'd find (and it was the kind of thing I could see Logan leaving out for me so that made it a double blessing), a random article I wrote last night generated a much larger paycheck than I'd ever imagined it would, and the kiddos were, for the most part, well-behaved. The day felt happy. Harmonious. And it even ended like this, with Abby willingly reading the Little Boys a story:

It's alarmingly easy to accept a bounty of blessings without acknowledging that God is the source of ALL good things, even the seemingly trivial ones. Gratitude is, after all, a must in this lifetime, but so very often, we chalk successes up to nothing more than dumb "good luck." And that's just wrong. So today, I'm deeply --and deliberately-- thankful for every single amazing blessing that God sent my way.

December 5

Three or four years ago, I bought a cinnamon sugared doughnut candle at Bath and Body Works. I remember expecting it to smell nice --because otherwise buying it would've been a serious what? moment, given how much they cost-- but it blew me away because it smelled just like a warm doughnut. After it was gone, I tried to buy another, but they were out of stock, and continued to be unavailable for some time. But then I found this one at the mall on Saturday:

It doesn't smell exactly the same as that first one did, but it's still a nice scent to enjoy on a chilly almost-winter evening. So today, I'm grateful for that very small indulgence that makes my house smell delicious.

December 4

The kids were especially energetic during our Sunday afternoon walk. They took turns operating a Finn McMissile remote control car on what we call The Long Path, and soon after, the hug-walking began.

It started with the three of them aggressively and loudly hugging one another as they strolled along. Adam and I were a few paces ahead at first, but they gained on us quickly, and after less than a minute, we too were sucked into their giggling, fumbling, tripping mass of madness.

They were perhaps a bit too loud and a bit too crazy, but they were letting loose, having fun, and enjoying being together. And if you ask me, those are all very good things.

December 3

Adam and I went out to dinner tonight.

Life is so busy that it's a blessing to be able to take some time to just sit and be with each other. Tonight, it happened over a basket of tortilla chips and some enchiladas. We haven't been able to get out particularly often in recent times (and by "recent," I mean "the last 12 years") but I think it makes us better parents --and better people-- when we make the time.

December 2

My friend V held her second (in what I'm sincerely hoping will become an) annual (hint, hint!) cookie exchange party tonight. It was an evening marked by her amazing appetizer spread and awesome conversation with this group of my fellow moms.

I know that the idea of a party with lots of chatter is unappealing to some people, but spending time with these terrific ladies fills me up. It's such a blessing to be able to sit and talk and unwind, and it's an even bigger blessing to realize that our individual stories and struggles and victories are all threads in the much larger, much longer story of life here in the valley. It feels immeasurably good to share a sense of connection with others, and I'm so thankful for the blessing of friendship.

December 1

And... December. Another chapter's been recorded and another year is primed to close. And I'm constantly conscious that my pages lack the sparkle they would've had had things gone differently for Logan. But I came upon an unexpected reminder of him this morning that made me smile.

By now, you all know that I collect little die-cast Corvettes and cars with flame jobs because they were my Sunshine's favorites. I mean, he loved all cars, but he had a special place in his heart for cars of that ilk. Anyhow, I went into the room Isaac shared with Logan this morning to help him pick out his clothes for the day (since eight-year old logic says that short sleeves are still perfectly acceptable when it's 40 degrees out). I was surprised when I looked down and spotted these two Vettes just laying on the floor. I asked Isaac where they'd come from and he shrugged.

I'm pretty sure I bought them back in 2012 when I first started my collection, but I have no idea where they've been since then. I thought I'd gathered them all up when I decided to do some organizing earlier this year, but I guess I missed these two.

It's funny how oversights can turn into such blessings.

November 30

Brady was incredibly, ridiculously emotional when he woke up this morning. As in Isaac-said-something-borderline-unkind-and-Brady-completely-lost-his-stuffing emotional. He had a fever (again) and a large swollen lymph node behind one of his ears, so he stayed home from school and I called the doctor. Unfortunately I couldn't get him an appointment until the early afternoon, so he spent most of the morning either lying on the couch or in his bed asleep. It was painful for me to see him so uncomfortable, and of course, it brought back unpleasant memories. Already long story slightly shorter, he has another case of strep. So after dealing with one kid feeling off all day long, it was kind of nice to see another one embracing her silly side this evening:

I snapped this a few moments after Adam took the Little Boys up to bed. She was trying to stealthily steal the cheeseburger Brady didn't touch, and I busted her. The laughter that followed was magical. Those sweet moments tucked into otherwise tiring days are such blessings, and I know I'm definitely guilty of missing most of them. But I caught this one.

November 29

I've said it already this year, but I have mixed feelings about the Christmas season; not about the meaning behind it or the festivities we enjoy, but over how it magnifies our loss. But I still try to enjoy it all as best I can, and when I saw this while I was waiting for Abby's Youth Group outing to end tonight, I thought it was lovely:

The soft light, the colors, the freshness of a forest-green tree. It practically begged me to approach and take its picture. And then when I did, I noticed that I could see my reflection in those shiny ornaments.

I'm tired and the words aren't really coming to me, but there was something sweet about seeing myself there on that tree.

November 28

We went to Chick-fil-A for dinner tonight. A new one opened here in town a few weeks ago, and we figured today would be a good day to check it out. I expected some really excellent chicken and waffle fries (which I definitely had), but I didn't expect such an ordinary experience to jog a strong memory.

It all came about quite simply: we were just about finished eating when an employee checked in to see if we wanted refills. Without thinking, I popped the top off of my cup and handed it to her. She asked if I wanted more ice, and I glanced in the cup and said no, but the second I caught a glimpse of those little crunchy bits of ice, I wished I'd said otherwise.

See, the ice at Chick-fil-A is the same kind of ice that I ate in mass quantities while Logan was an inpatient at CHO. I love that ice. And I love that it reminds me of my Sunshine, even if the memory is definitively bittersweet.

Who'da thunk that a glance inside a paper could be ever be so meaningful? An unexpected blessing indeed.

November 27

This was my favorite part of today:

After dinner, we gathered in front of the TV to watch "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." I invited Brady to come cuddle with me, and we sat like this throughout the flick, and then through the three Disney shorts that Adam decided we'd watch next. I closed my eyes more than once to just breathe him in.

There's something so sweet about just being together.

November 26

It's not even December yet, but we've kicked the Christmas spirit into overdrive. After lunch, we went on a horse-and-carriage ride complete with jingling bells, and then dropped by the little holiday festival in the quad in front of the movie theater. The kiddos said hi to Santa, and then waited in line for balloon animals (or, more accurately, a balloon wreath, a balloon Frosty the Snowman, and a balloon Flying Batman).

Later, we started the process of decorating our tree. I got out the mini Christmas mugs I've had in the cabinet for years and whipped up some hot cocoa, and Adam turned on the Christmas tunes and lugged several years' worth of decorations in from the garage. And we got to work.

And to be totally honest, my heart wasn't in it. I want to enjoy the fun trimmings of celebrating this season, but it's hard because we're not all here. Logan can't put his ornaments on the tree and he can't create new ones. He can't pose for photos with his siblings and he can't dance around the living room like a fool to the sounds of Bing Crosby. My life will never be as sweet as it once was, and that's a hard truth to face when surrounded by happy people and their beautiful, whole families.

But these smiles make it easier to weather the harder days.

November 25

It was a long, long day. I dragged Abby out of bed at midnight to watch the first installment of Gilmore Girls. We both went off to bed at 1:30, but I couldn't settle down and I'm not sure I slept at all. I stopped trying to sleep at 8, and waited til 9 before I went upstairs and again pulled Abby out of bed so we could do our annual Black Friday shopping. (Poor kid of mine.) We made the rounds and had lunch with her good friend and her mom (as we've done every Black Friday for the last three years). Then we headed home for a little while before hitting the tree lot with the whole fam to choose our Christmas tree.

When Abby and Logan and even Isaac were really little people, I used to take gobs of photos. Every time a special occasion presented itself, I took my camera along and snapped as many pics as I could. I'm sure my shutterbug tendencies annoyed other people at times, but I'm so beyond thankful that we have that treasure trove of images now, since Logan can no longer be with us on special days.

I don't take as many pictures now for a variety of reasons, but I'm thankful for the ones I do get, even if they're imperfect like this one because this is us. And though Logan's absence means the photos are never truly complete, they're still very, very good.

November 24

I still have mixed feelings about major holidays. I'm thankful to be able to spend them with these people, of course, but I'm always cognizant that Logan is not here. And that's never going to be easy.

In spite of the wavering emotion, it turned out to be a pretty good Thanksgiving. I got up, watched part of the Macy*s Thanksgiving Day parade (and then the National Dog Show) with the Little Boys, helped Adam make rolls, and pounded some figurative pavement on the treadmill before getting dressed and heading out with the fam for a walk around the neighborhood. Then --with Lambie in tow, of course-- we left at about 3 to head to Adam's Aunt Peg's house for dinner with the extended family. (Or part of it, anyway.) We had a pleasant meal and then spent some time chatting with people we love but don't get to see particularly often.

And then we came home. Right now, Abby is sitting next to me on the couch doing something on her laptop, and Adam is putting the Little Boys to bed. My inability to see Logan today makes my heart ache, but I cannot deny that I am blessed. And that's an important truth for me to stash away in my heart, right next to the ache.

November 23

I meant to take a picture of my actual dinner, but it looked too good and I ate it. So here's an empty fry box instead:

I like routines and traditions, and one of our temporary "things" this fall has been going to In N Out after swimming lessons. We hit the drive thru, come home, and watch episodes of "Phineas and Ferb" while we eat.

It's just a simple thing, but it's one of our family activities, so it means a lot to me. There's nothing quite as awesome as spending mundane moments with your favorite people.

November 22

Today was another kick-back, low-key one. In order to keep my sanity, I decided to take the kiddos out for brunch at our usual "there's no school so we're going out to brunch" haunt, the Black Bear Diner.

This is pretty much what the Little Boys did while we were waiting for our food: they hugged and made faces (and colored on their kids' menus, but that wasn't nearly as amusing as the affection-showing). I've said it before, but I love how they love each other, and I love how they're goofy with each other, too. Life is, after all, much more fun when we smile and deliberately seek out that which is good.

November 21

Fortunately, Brady's fever was gone today, so we were able to walk Abby to her friend's house this afternoon to play (or maybe pre-teens just hang out? I don't remember). And then we were able to spend a little while at the local park.

It was a lovely, crisp Fall Monday, and one of those days that featured the sun routinely hiding and then emerging from behind thick, fluffy clouds.

A lovely day indeed, and that's always a blessing.

November 20

Brady wound up with a fever last night, so while everyone else went to church and then to Adam's parents' house to celebrate the November birthdays, he and I hung out at home.

My littlest man is usually a ball of energy and inquisitiveness, but when he doesn't feel well, he's a cuddly snuggle bug. Although I don't exactly relish the idea of my kiddos being sick, it's a blessing when all they want to do is lie against me and rest.

November 19

It rained on and off, but today was quite nice overall. In the morning, I enjoyed a really lovely tea with some friends. We chatted over scones and sandwiches and sampled four different kinds of incredibly delicious tea.

This afternoon, Abby and I had our usual Saturday window shopping expedition, and then this evening, she took her maiden voyage as a baby-sitter for the Little Boys while Adam and I went out to dinner. And just a few minutes ago, while sitting here on the couch and reflecting on all of this, I realized that 19 years ago today, Adam and I officially began dating. November 19 has fallen by the wayside, given the number of other important days we've established as a couple, but it was nice to inadvertently honor the anniversary.

So yes. Not a very eloquent entry from me today, but one that's absolutely brimming with gratitude for my blessings.

November 18

Since it's supposed to rain this weekend, we opted to go for a short walk around the neighborhood this evening before dinner. Given my plethora of environmental allergies, I've always been gun shy about jumping in piles of crackly, fallen leaves, but my kiddos have an entirely different opinion when it comes to that time-honored practice.

Although they didn't jump in them, per se, they did form a squat little line and run their feet through them at high speed. Crunch, rustle, crunch, rustle, giggle, giggle.

Though it's not my thing, it's fun to see them have fun.

November 17

A half-day of school for the Little Boys meant afternoon playground-time for them and some mom-chat time for me.

I'm not exactly an extrovert --I tend to be partly extroverted, partly introverted-- but just sitting and talking with my friends can be such a filling experience for me. So today, I'm thankful that I had that chance to just sit and talk. And that the boys had a chance to run around and be crazy with some of their friends.

November 16

Today was Kindergarten Family Feast Day for Brady's class, and thanks to jury duty reporting instructions that kept him home, Adam was actually able to attend.

If I'm remembering correctly, it's the first time he's been able to come to an event at the kids' school during school hours, and it was definitely a big deal to Brady to have his dad there for the songs and the poems and, of course, the food.

It's such a blessing when a negative (like a summons) winds up turning into a big, unexpected positive.

November 15

I don't know exactly when I acquired this photo, but it features my grandma, grandpa, me, and my two brothers celebrating my grandmother's 65th birthday back in 1987. Today --exactly 29 years after this image was snapped-- she turned 94 years old.

My grandma was an incredibly important person to me when I was growing up. I stayed with her and my grandpa for a time when I was very young, and then we lived with them for a few years when I was in elementary school. I remember her staying with me when I was sick and sitting with her and grandpa while they watched "Wheel of Fortune" each evening and putting on plays for her with my brother. I remember putting her hair in curlers and joining her for walks 'round and 'round the circular portion of their driveway on summer evenings and sitting with her behind the table of the clothing department at the county fair.

And beyond all of that, I remember the powerful way that her faith guided both her words and her decisions. She and my mom are without doubt very different people, but they're also two of the strongest, most faithful women in my life, and I'm deeply thankful that God blessed me with both of them.

November 14

I had a few nice moments today. There was the time I spent chatting with a friend over coffee this morning. There was the walk home from kindergarten with my little muffin. There were the minutes I spent watching Abby as she went to a few neighbors' houses to ask for donations for her school's canned food drive (which she totally didn't need to do, but insisted upon since "mom, we have so much more than these people we're serving and my classmates aren't doing much of anything"). And there was this:

I don't even remember what she found so amusing, but I can hear the ringing sound of her giggles, and the memory alone makes me smile.

It doesn't happen nearly enough, but it always makes me smile when they laugh. And that does my heart multiple worlds' worth of good.

November 13

Adam wasn't feeling well last night, so I took the fam to church solo this morning. After the service, the kiddos had their first 'rehearsal' for the Nativity play.

I sat in the back of the classroom and watched as these precious little people went through the script of that familiar, blessed story, and my heart absolutely jumped in my chest. It's been a while since our church has put on a Nativity play, and it's such a blessing to see our kids taking part in the telling of the story.

November 12

There are ways in which my daughter is a more secure person than I've ever been.

For one, she sits by herself at lunchtime at school and then does her homework. My inner 12-year old cringed at the idea, so I asked why she didn't just join a pre-existing group. Her response? I don't want to be someone's second or third choice, mom. That's so not me. I still don't really have the kind of confidence you need to just go it alone.

Another example? The dress she's wearing in this pic. She still loves My Little Pony, but I wasn't sure that she'd want to wear this outfit when I gave it to her. After all, she's in seventh grade, and I could easily substitute the 'junior' in 'junior high' with 'judgmental.'

I admire her so much for being herself regardless of what judgment she may face. It's a blessing to have her as an example for me.