January 31

Oh, what a day. It began with some residual emotion from last night (which was hard) and continued with a much-needed spur-of-the-moment coffee meet-up (which did wonders for my mood -- thanks Sherrie!). But the cherries on top were the two calls I got from the kids' schools: the first shared that Isaac had been hit in the eye during PE (though fortunately, he's fine and didn't require a trip to the doctor), while the second delivered the great news that Abby threw up. (On the bright side, that means her long-standing fear of vomiting at school has now been realized and she survived.) Anyway, there is an actual point to this random and rambly post.

Brady had a short-lived stomach bug over a week ago. Given that a) those things tend to rip through my house like a tornado and b) I'm virtually always a victim of said tornado, I worried that I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to my friend before she moved (today). I'm a big worrier, but I tried to push aside the fear and prayed --repeatedly-- that no one else would catch it. And then no one else got sick, and I felt confident that we were in the clear. And I got to have that conversation and give the gift I had in person. And though it was hard, it was good, and I needed that interaction in order to put a bow on the past and look toward the future of that relationship.

It's true that a lot of things that I pray for don't come to pass. And that makes sense since God knows what's best for each of us. But I am so very thankful that this particular prayer was granted. (And I'm definitely hoping no one else gets sick.)

January 30

I had an emotional evening. When I came home, Adam was out with Isaac and Brady was watching TV, so I made a gametime decision to go upstairs to talk with this one.

She's my daughter so of course I think she's amazing, but I think that's an objective truth. She sat with me, listened to me, gave feedback, and even teared up a few times. I'd never really confided in her before and there are definitely things that she doesn't need to know, but it felt like we had a Moment while we sat there on her bed.

She's growing up, this girl of mine. And I don't think I could be prouder of who she is.

January 29

I took Isaac to his first baseball practice of the season this evening. Behold my newly minted AAA Brave in action:

On the way home, he couldn't stop talking about how fun it was and how he was so happy to be starting a new season. He truly does love baseball, and I feel blessed to be able to let him play.

I didn't gush in return, but I'm excited for the new season, too. I chatted with several parents while watching the boys go through their drills and found them all to be genuinely nice people. Being a baseball mom over the years has introduced me to a number of amazing parents (and caregivers!), including a few who wound up becoming some of my very closest friends. So I feel like I have good reason to be hopeful for what's to come this spring.

So let's play ball. :)

January 28

I was rather dismayed when I looked at my phone this evening and realized that I'd taken one lonely picture all day long. And then I was even more dismayed when I realized it was very similar to yesterday's image. But here it is anyway, because there's still some value in it:

We tend to go for long stretches around here with very few clouds in the sky. (That's probably the case since it hardly ever rains between May and October.) Given that truth, we also tend to have long stretches with less-than-colorful sunsets. Clear blue sky is stunning, of course, but the clouds are what give those sunsets true dimension.

That's also true in this life. I think we'd all like our days to be without challenges and free of pain, but the reality is that the clouds (struggles) that produce those spectacular colors (maturity, change, and growth) are what make the days meaningful.

So for the knowledge that my own difficulties will eventually create something unique and beautiful, I'm thankful.

January 27

I laid low most of today. Then this evening, Adam and I took a quick turn around the park. The sun was beginning to set, and it was quite lovely.

No grand observations; just a picture of a beautifully painted sky. Because today, that's what I've got.

January 26

Abby and I did as we often do on lazy weekend afternoons: we went shopping. When we got home, I opened the garage door to plug in my car, and shortly thereafter, a fluffy gray cat ran inside. (We don't own a fluffy gray cat so this was a surprising occurrence.) Since I'm near-deathly allergic (which I realized after owning cats for 38 years), I dispatched Abby to retrieve Fluffy, and she complied.

Although I don't love being near cats at this juncture, I do love how happy my girl was to hold this one. She grinned like a fool, and afterward, declared that she wanted a cat of her own. (Which is not happening.) She even looked up hypoallergenic cats. (Which is also not happening.)

Anyway, it was a blessing to just be with her out and about, and it was a blessing to watch her happily hold this feline. Small things, but good things nonetheless.

January 25

My girl is delightfully complex.

She made me laugh out loud this morning when, after I'd dropped her off at school, she deadpan texted me "There are memes on the bathroom wall. I don't know what to think" along with a picture of said meme.

Then this evening, she randomly sent me the "I love you" dragon (even though she was sitting on the couch literally four feet away).

Yup, complex. Funny. Smart. Quick-witted. Challenging too sometimes, sure, but all in all, she's a pretty great kid to call my own, and I'm thankful.

January 24

The boys won these at the school's Bingo Night a few days ago:

In case it's not obvious, they're sequined slap bracelets.

I know I've said it before, but I love sparkles. There's just something about the way they reflect light in different directions that makes me... happy. And given the weight of the world these days, anything that gives me that lighthearted feeling is a blessing.

January 23

I got in my car after a school event this evening and immediately began stressing over how to handle a challenging situation. Then I started the engine and --literally, in that very moment-- I heard the opening bars of this song.

In short, it's about finding common ground in order to work out a problem. So common ground it will be.

I love it when God gives me nudges --or in this case, aggressively waves at me-- through my radio. :)

January 22

There were many things I didn't like about today. The hits started coming in the early hours, so I took a rapid walk around the Sports Park to try to burn off some of the negative energy. I'm not sure that I felt much better by walk's end, but I did get to see this message and a few others like it as I pounded the path:

There is so much overwhelming negativity in this world --so much cheating, lying, manipulating, hurting-- that we should all do this. Period.

I have no idea who left these chalk messages, but I'm thankful s/he did.

January 21

Adam made dinner tonight. As he plated the food, he apologized for "messing up" the mashed potatoes. I looked at my portion and thought they looked perfect. I took a bite. Still perfect. Quite like my mom used to make, in fact. So I ate it up and then had seconds.

Abby looked at me like I was crazy as I gobbled up serving number two. She followed The Look with a full dose of teenager sass as she said Gross, mom. Why would you eat more of that? I shrugged and told her I thought they were good. Perfect, really. And she shook her head and the interaction ended.

But those potatoes reminded me of something important: we're not all going to like the same potatoes in this lifetime. We all have different preferences and something that's delicious to some people is completely unpalatable to others. And that's okay, because just imagine how boring life would be if we all ate ONLY mashed potatoes -- no baked, boiled, french fried, or au gratin.

Every single one of us is one of God's unique creations. We'd all get along much better in this world if we could just embrace --and celebrate-- those differences, don't you think? I do.

January 20

It was a wacky weather day: gentle, misty rain then sun then a downpour. Rinse and repeat.

In a way, it was something of a metaphor for this human life we live together: we all have our ups (sunny moments) and our downs (storms) as we journey along. Sometimes, it's about hunkering down with a good book and a coffee and weathering the storm. Sometimes it's about basking in the sunlight. And sometimes, it's about chucking the umbrella and dancing in the rain.

I think it's probably time for a good dance.

January 19

Part of my reality is that I can't have all of my kids with me. It's been nearly seven years so I'm used to it --or at least as "used to it" as one can be-- but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck. So I really appreciate things like this:

It's the mother's ring "Logan" gave me for my birthday last week. It's small and subtle and features all four of their birthstones. And it's a way for them all to be together and with me. And that is a blessing.

January 18

I was heading out to pick up some Tums this afternoon (because man alive, I've had atrocious heartburn for a few days now) and couldn't help but notice the sky over the Catholic church near our house. I wasn't quick enough to snap a pic during my first trip down the road, so I swung a u-turn, retraced my route, and snapped this:

You may have to squint to see it, but there's a cross atop the steeple, right in the center of the very brightest cluster of clouds. It was a beautiful, visual reminder that Jesus is the calm we can find during storms. Though the winds may blow and the seas may rage all around us and we can't see what lies ahead, He's still there directing our paths and giving us what we need to get by -- and thrive.

January 17

This is one of my favorite people. (The blonde, not me. I mean, I have my good qualities and all, but yeah. No. Not that brand of vain.) I've referenced Kathy a few times before, mostly in vague terms because she has this genuine disdain for all-things blog and I try not to torment people I like with public expressions of sticky sentiment. But given that we lunched for my birthday today and she's moving far (far) away in a few weeks and she's had a really big impact on me over the past few years, now seemed like a good time to break that rule. So here goes.

I think I lost a piece of myself when Logan died. After the initial pain of that trauma dulled, I didn't feel much of anything for quite a long while; longer than I'd like to admit. It was so much easier --and definitively safer-- to remain detached (pleasant, friendly, transparent --because goodness knows, I'll talk about anything even to this day!-- and kind, sure, but also detached) than to chance the potential for more heartbreak by actually caring about anything or anyone. That probably sounds bad, but it's how I coped, and I'm guessing that's not uncommon.

The spring of 2016 rolled around and ushered in a new season of baseball for Isaac and a whole new crop of people to get to know. One of those people was Taylor. Kathy was another. I think our first actual interaction was at a Starbucks (because of course it was). Then there were planned coffee meet-ups and strings of text messages and some of the most honest conversations I'd had in years about just about everything: politics, Hollyweird, marriage, family, faith, loss. And there was the humor. Oh, the humor. We had this natural synergy and for the first time in quite a long while, it felt like the sun came out in my world. And I thanked God every single day for sending me someone who wanted to know me --the actual me, not the masked version who chattered on sans emotion-- and who understood my sense of humor and that I could be mercurial but didn't hold it against me and busted my chops when they probably needed a good busting and didn't hold back kind words when they were warranted (and, quite often, needed). And who was willing to take off her own mask and be real with me, too. And I thanked God that the ice had begun to melt and I found myself actually able to care again.

It hasn't always been sunny; we're different people (think eggshell beige versus purple glitter) and there have been tough patches to navigate. But I do believe that God puts specific people in our lives at specific times to fill our hearts with happy and to push us to more fully become who we're intended to be. And she's one of those people for me. And for that, I am --and always will be-- thankful. And though I'm not keen on the upcoming separation, what's a few thousand miles between good friends?

January 16

It rained most of today. And because Murphy has that whole law thing going on, I had multiple appointments in multiple locations. When pick-up time rolled around, I was tired (and wet. Definitely wet).

As I stood outside waiting for the bell to ring, I listened to the sound of the raindrops on my umbrella. And the pitter-splat-pitter-splat cadence was strangely relaxing.

Even on the busiest of days, I can still find blessed moments of respite in unexpected places... if I'm paying attention. So for that truth, I'm thankful.

January 15

I was cleaning the kitchen this evening when I found this.

It's Isaac's handwriting but I have no idea when he wrote it (since --and it's painful to admit it-- I found a few several-years-old items on the far regions of the counter). I chuckled when I first read it, but then it made me think. Everyone who prays to God asks for things -- blessings, healing, help, guidance, you name it, we ask for it. (In this kinda sorta humorous case, it was very important to Isaac that the A's make the playoffs.) And that's a good thing (as long as we remain open to the truth that what we want may not always be part of the plan), since God is a good God and wants us to ask for what our hearts desire.

But how often do we just utter prayers of thanksgiving, especially when times are tougher than we'd like? I know I'm not so good at that. But this cute little note reminded me to do better. And for that, I'm thankful.

January 14

Ah, sweet cooperation.

Adam is away on a business trip this week, so by the time I'd endured the usual rounds of after-school bickering (the usual suspects), hit basketball practice (Brady) and baseball clinic (Isaac), and gotten dinner (McDonalds), it was already after eight and I was ready to hit the hay myself.

When I joined the boys for bedtime prayers in Isaac and Logan's room, I found them on the floor trying to fix Brady's "robot". I'm not entirely sure what they were doing, but I watched for a minute as they brainstormed ways to shore up its base and it warmed my heart to see them collaborating peacefully. Harmony --especially when I'm tired-- is a beautiful thing.

January 13

With his fractured pinky mended (did I mention that?), Brady had a delayed first today: his first level one, 8-to-10 year old baseball classes.

I watched him for a few minutes before heading off to run some errands, and I was gratified by what I saw: he took guidance from the coach, took his turn throwing, and then stood back and practiced as he waited for his next turn.

I appreciate that my kids so often put legitimate effort into bettering themselves. It's a blessing to see them becoming the best people they can be.

January 12

Before Logan died, we had Saturday lunches at Sweet Tomatoes. It was just too painful to keep going there after, so we changed up our routine and switched our destination to a different locale that was a favorite of his: Red Tractor. So after nearly seven years of weekend lunches, we were sad to find that it had unexpectedly closed --for good-- when we tried to go this afternoon. My consistency-loving self couldn't help but roll my eyes: I'm one day into 41 --one DAY-- and yet another unexpected (and kind of brutal) change hit me.

I was still thinking about it this afternoon when Adam and I took a few turns around the Sports Park. During a break in the conversation, I looked up at the sky and took in this rather majestic sight. And it made me think. The appearance of the sky changes all the time: different shades of blue, different types of clouds. But it's still the sky, even when it looks different, and the God who created the sky is still God -- even when it feels like far too much is far too different for my taste. So yes: in a world filled with uncertainty, I'm thankful for that truth.

January 11

What can I say about today? A lot, probably, but the overarching theme is that it was a good day to turn 41. Adam took the day off (as he usually does on my birthdays), so after I had my usual Starbucks time (which featured donut delivery by Nikki), we went to lunch at Baja Fresh and took a stroll around Target, where he found a "you are my sunshine" bracelet that was undoubtedly from Logan. So of course, I bought it.

Then in the afternoon, there were school pick-ups and a little TV time. We had an earlyish dinner at CPK, and then headed home for presents and a 41-candle cake (which, if you're wondering, involves a lot of fire).

Yes, it was a good day. But it was also something of a surprising day, if I stop to think about it. For several years after Logan died, I didn't care for my birthdays because I felt his absence so keenly. But today, somehow, was different. It's like I felt him even though he's no more "here" than he has been since he passed on. So for the blessing of that change in perspective and for the blessing of friends and family who reached out to say hi and for the blessing of birthdays, I'm thankful.

January 10

I turn 41 tomorrow, so given that I am introspective me, it stands to reason that I'm sitting here on my couch reflecting a bit --for better or worse-- on the past year.

To be blunt, 40 hasn't exactly been my favorite age so far. Thirty-nine was really good to me so I entered the year with high expectations, but a lot of disappointing, painful, mentally taxing, and just plain hard experiences threw me off balance in a very unwanted kind of way. I truly struggled through much of the year.

I'm still actively trying to get myself together, but I'm making positive changes and think I'm in a decent place as I hit 41. I'm definitely not the same person I was a year ago --for one, I'm sitting here drinking a glass of my wuss-wine, and for another, I'm wearing two earrings in each ear (I know, I'm a rebel)-- and my prayer is that this new year will be marked by even more personal growth -- and a lot more laughter than I experienced at 40.

January 9

It rained overnight. When we got in the car this morning, the boys were totally fascinated by the water droplets that dotted the sunroof. Truthfully, I found them kind of interesting too, so I took a pic before we hit the road.

I'm not really a water person. I don't like pools or lakes and I find the ocean to be huge and powerful and intimidating. I'm also a terrible swimmer (probably because I don't care for water!).

But there's something about water droplets that's just plain beautiful. And soothing. So for the blessing of something beautiful showing up so early in my day, I'm thankful.

January 8

When I checked my phone camera pics from today, I found a bunch of selfies (which is an embarrassing admission, but I had my hair done and was trying to get a good shot so I could remember what it looked like for next time) and this one of Brady. So since I used my mug yesterday, I decided this would be today's winner.

There are many things I appreciate about this kid of mine, but today I want to focus on sacrifice. He can be a very (exceedingly) stubborn person; he once held a bite of food he didn't want in his cheek for hours before we finally gave in and he spat it out and victoriously marched off to bed. But not today. After school, he very clearly wanted to go to the park (as we often do), but I very much wanted to go home. I was tired and cold and just didn't feel like being outside. So after surveying the situation, he stiffened his upper lip and said that it would be okay if we went home.

I know it wasn't what he wanted, but I deeply appreciated his willingness to be flexible. So for that moment of understanding and sweetness from my eight-year old, I'm grateful.

January 7

I went to Target with Nikki tonight and found this enormous mug on a random shelf in the snack aisle. And because I was feeling a bit silly, I decided to take a picture with its giantness.

After the fact, I read the message on said-mug and decided I like it quite a lot. Why? Because we should all attempt to be awesome every single day. God wants us to be awesome: kind and patient and friendly and real. So for the blessing of that reminder from an unlikely source, I'm thankful.

January 6

We always go to visit Logan's grave after church on Sundays, but there were two things that were unusual about today's trip: one, it was raining. And two, Brady popped open his Lightning McQueen umbrella and got out of the car.

I watched Adam and Brady stand there together for a moment and felt a mixture of heartbreak and hope. Heartbreak over what we've lost, and hope over what we'll again find some day in the future.

And though I admittedly struggle with faith at times, for the promise of the latter, I'm eternally thankful.

January 5

I was happy to have some face-to-face time with this girl this afternoon.

Tay was down from Napa for the weekend, and we took the opportunity to have lunch and visit a certain store at the mall.

I wish she still lived a wee bit closer, but I'm thankful that in spite of the distance, we've still kept in touch because time with her is always a blessing to me.

January 4

Adam took down the Christmas tree while Isaac and I were at his baseball clinic. When we got home, this is all that remained of our holiday display:

I paused to look at it for a few moments and noticed how the lights made the glittery star even more glittery, and the sight made me smile.

See, I love sparkle. I have sparkly shoes and nail polish and shirts with glittery threads woven through the fabric. As I am wont to say, I like glitter because it reflects light, and The Light is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

January 3

This feels self-indulgent and I kind of hate self-indulgent, but I'll go with it because it's what I've got.

A few years ago, my Gmail account was hacked. I couldn't access my email, and was completely horrified when the hacker deleted my blogs. (And by "horrified" I mean "completely melted down.") Long story short, thanks to a friend with a connection at Google, my email and blogs were restored, and I made a mental note to make printed copies of my blogs just in case.

Fast forward to this past November when I finally got around to picking a company and having the first year of this blog printed. Said book arrived yesterday, and I finally had the chance to look through it today. It was really neat to be able to hold the (very large -- there's a reason I broke it down into individual years) book and read what I wrote six years ago.

We have to live forward into this life, of course, but sometimes, it's awfully nice to be able to look back at the trail we've traveled, too.

January 2

I had the chance to reconnect with a friend I hadn't seen in a while and it was so awesome.

I know Ti from dance; she was the mother/daughter teacher for several of the five years Abby and I took part in the class, and she's been Abby's instructor more than once. She's fun and positive and easy to talk to (and definitely quite fabulous), and I had an absolute blast chatting with her over coffee this evening.

Time spent with people I like is a gift to my heart, and I'm so thankful she made the time to meet up with me.

January 1

And so it begins: year seven of this little blog of mine.

We didn't do much on this first day of 2019; just some basketball at the park for the boys (while I circled the court and watched), and lots of texting for Abby (who is definitely 14). At one point, while Isaac and Adam played one on one, Brady decided he wanted to build a structure using sticks. After the game concluded, Isaac joined him and they worked side by side, collecting materials and driving them into the earth.

They may fight almost incessantly some days, but I do love watching them work together to accomplish a shared goal. Yep, I'm thankful for those two industrious little guys and for all the great additions they've built (see what I did there?) into my life over the course of my mom-years.