Before the ride, an elf and what looked like the tooth fairy (though I'll give her some latitude and call her another elf) made the kiddos some balloon animals (cats and dogs, because as Abby quipped, it was raining cats and dogs). And then we boarded the carriage for our whirl around the parking lot. It's a short ride and, all in all, a very small thing, but it's something the kids enjoy and it's fun for me to sit back and watch them enjoy themselves.
After an abbreviated naptime at home, the five of us plus Lambie piled into the truck to pick out our Christmas tree. Outlet mall traffic made for a very (very) long ride and it rained as we trolled the trees at the lot, but in the end, we drove off with a nice evergreen strapped to the roof.
Given that tradition is comforting to me, today was comprised of a lovely string of blessings. And I am grateful.
There was turkey and stuffing, salad and bread --four types, courtesy of my bread-master husband--, mashed potatoes and pie. There were kids running around like tiny madmen and adults who hadn't seen one another in 'oh gosh, has it really been so long?' catching up on life. And a blessing that remembered Logan and Adam's Granddad, who are both gone from the physical world but very much alive in our memories.
It was, to put it simply, a nice day. A pleasant day. A mostly quiet day. A day without tears, which seven years ago --as I struggled to simply breathe through our first Thanksgiving without our Sunshine-- I considered an impossibility. And for all of that I'm thankful.
Adam sat with BearBear and posed and re-posed him several times over as the meal progressed. It wasn't particularly busy so it wasn't hard to notice the server giving him the side-eye as she periodically passed by the table.
As strange as it was, I'm thankful that Adam kept his promise to our daughter, because keeping our word to one another is important, and far too many people, well, they just plain don't bother doing it.
After I finished talking with my mom, I sat on the floor in my bedroom and just listened to the sound of rain pelting the roof.
So today, given the high fire danger we face during the summer and early fall, I'm grateful for the moisture that will bring renewal to the earth.
Before we headed out, Adam and I took one more walk around the neighborhood and Brady decided to join us. It was chilly at about 40 degrees and the wind sliced through my too-thin denim jacket and two shirts, but the skies were clear and quite lovely.
I'm not really a big "out in nature" person, but it was a pleasant stroll with two of my favorites, and that kind of thing is always a blessing.
It was a chilly'ish 40something degrees outside and not super warm inside the restaurant, so when I noticed Brady shivering in his chair, I had him come and sit with me. And as we sat together, it occurred to me that he's almost nine years old and that the past decade has flown by. So I pulled him close and cuddled him, because I know the days of him wanting to sit in his mom's lap are limited. So for the blessing of that time and for the awareness that I should soak in every moment of his sweet eight-year old'ness while I still can, I'm thankful.
I don't know what they were talking about, but it was a tender moment and I wanted to remember it. Adam's job and commute don't leave him with much time at home, so it's always a blessing to see him enjoying downtime with the kids.
We chit-chatted and then headed over to Safeway, where we trolled the aisles and loaded up on --per his request-- cheese and yogurt. We hit a few more stores and then headed home for a while, where I watched him play video games for an hour, and then it was off to pick up lunch at In N Out. Then just a little later, the bell rang at the middle and high schools and we retrieved the big kids.
I'd say it was a quiet day, but it definitely wasn't quiet because Brady is a talker. But it was a very nice day. So for the time with my littlest, I'm grateful.
It's definitely weird, but it's also funny to watch the flinging and the odd competitiveness that brews as they wait to see whose bird is first to take the big dive to the carpet below. And sometimes, I'm thankful for just that brand of frivolity.
Brady is absolutely a talker, so it was fun to follow him around and listen as he commented on anything and everything he saw. Some comments reinforced preferences I already knew (like his affinity for Minions, video games, and Mickey Mouse) while others were more enlightening (like his unlikely fascination with glass Christmas ornaments. When I asked him why, he said he liked how the light shined through the colors. Go figure). And one comment made my heart melt. We were standing next to a display of Alex and Ani bracelets. He watched intently as I looked at what was available, and finally looked up and me and said "tell me which ones you like. I'll remember."
I loved the sweet sentiment behind that remark and I love the sweetness of my kids.
I watched him play Skill --or at least I think that's what they call it-- and just smiled. A lovely afternoon, a good report... good things. And given how much not-good there can be in this broken world, I'm thankful for every morsel of good I get.
Nikki and I took a spur-of-the-moment lunch trip to Taco Bell this afternoon. Dani girl was sleeping in the backseat, so we hit up the drive-thru and parked in front of her house to chow on our nacho boxes and chat.
It was really, really good girl time and I really, really needed it. So tonight, I'm thankful for her and for that time.
Over the course of a stunningly cheerful 20 minutes, she jumped out of her seat and jetted to the kitchen when Brady asked for help getting more food from the crockpot, congratulated Isaac and gave him a celebratory fistbump when he shared that he'd raised his math grade to an A, and then randomly started dancing with said 11-year old in the kitchen.
I have no clue what spurred the outpouring of exuberant kindness, but it made me smile. And for that gift, I'm grateful.
I clicked to read a sermon recently delivered by an old friend and was surprised to find that he'd referenced Logan at its end. He too knows the pain of losing a child, so I wasn't at all bothered by the mention. And in fact, although I ugly-cried as I read it, I was heartened by the truth of his words: that we're all alive to God -- even those who are no longer here with us on earth. Even his Mack. Even Logan.
So although the sting of moving forward without him physically present still rips and tears at my heart and I still have days and weeks when I feel like I just can't keep walking, it's so, so good to be reminded --again-- that the pains of this human life are temporary.
I didn't know how I'd use the image or what I'd say about it at the time, but a thought eventually came to me. Sometimes, like in the case of this little sweetie, it's easy to find beauty in the form of crisp petals, symmetry, and a perfectly shaded, buttery center. It's easy to appreciate something like this --or love it, even-- because it's so pretty on the outside. But it's a bit harder to appreciate the flowers that have faded or lost petals underneath the sun's oft-harsh, intense rays; the ones that don't look quite so sweet. But that doesn't mean that they're not attention-worthy, and in fact, it's likely that they need even more care than the ones that look so perfect.
I could go on indefinitely with my flowery analogy, but we all know I'm talking about people. It's easy to be kind to those who are consistently beautiful to us because we know we'll get the kindness we think we deserve in return. It's much harder to show that same love to those who aren't always so lovely; to those who are sharp or inconsistent or, at times, even unkind. Given that I've been that person --that person who's distant and difficult and stubborn-- I know how important it is to show grace to those people, too.
Because in God's eyes, no one is unlovable. And a little bit of grace shown can plant a seed that will one day grow into a healthy plant that produces even more stunningly beautiful flowers.
I was just going to take a plain old pic of us, but he suggested we include our frou-frou drinks --a non-alcoholic fruit smoothie for him, a strawberry lemon drop for me-- so here we are while we waited for our food.
He's busy these days. The kids are busy with school and activities and I'm busy driving them to and from said destinations. So it's always a blessing when he and I can carve out some time to just catch up and sit together in a booth at a restaurant.
I took this while sitting at a red light this evening. I was driving Abby to youth group, and a worship song that we both know had come on the radio. So we both started singing.
I'm not much of a singer. (Of the two of us, she's the far more gifted one in that area.) But it was nice to have that moment with my girl.
And while I did, I had a really obvious thought: Super sweet are the precious few years we get to enjoy before the weight of the world --and the pains of human life-- weigh upon our hearts. So seeing my littlest boy enjoying the sunshine and the bubbles was just... well, sweet.
I came to pick-up a few minutes early and watched them doing their thing. This is a pretty terrible image, but Brady is the boy holding the bat, and a few seconds later he whacked a wiffle ball and wound up on first base.
I just love watching them play. They clearly enjoy it and it helps with the whole 'ridiculous amounts of energy' thing. So for those blessings, I'm thankful.
At one point during the early afternoon hours, when I was half watching an NFL game --and by half watching I mean I have no idea who was playing but was vaguely aware of the guys in colorful tights running across the TV screen-- Isaac and Brady trooped downstairs in matching outfits. Then they marched back upstairs and re-emerged with BearBear dressed in like-apparel. They announced that they'd be putting on a fashion show featuring BearBear and his buddies Little Bagger, Slime, and Chubacorn (and yeah, they're really, really good at naming stuffed animals), and that's just what they did.
I have no idea what inspired them, but it made me happy to see them enjoying themselves so much. So for that small thing, I'm grateful.
It'd been (literally) months since our last get-together, which is absurd since we live two minutes apart, so I was happy to have the time with her. It was really, really nice to just sit and chat, and I headed home afterward feeling... happy. So for that and for her continued friendship --even if we don't see each other as often as we could-- I'm grateful.
When I came downstairs this morning, I found Isaac and Brady on the couch like this. Granted they were playing different games on different devices, but they were doing it together. Given how often we don't spend time with people we love, it made me smile to see them enjoying a few moments of closeness.
I could tell when he got home that he was super pleased. And I could tell that Isaac was just as pleased for his little brother, even though he's older, arguably works harder, is a good, respectful student, and has never won the honor himself. It would've been easy --and understandable-- had he been jealous, but he wasn't. At all.
So today, I'm proud of both of them for being awesome people. And I'm grateful for the reminder that it's more important --and maybe even more rewarding-- to choose to celebrate one another than it is to win.
Lest that sounds like a strange proclamation, I'll step back and explain. Abby and Stacy's daughter were really, really good friends in elementary school. Inseparable, in fact. Then there was a falling out, and us moms got involved. And it got really, really heated really, really quickly. And then poof, the girls were no longer buddies and Stacy and I no longer spoke. I wasn't proud of myself at the time, but I was in a bad place and didn't handle the situation well at all. Words are, after all, like the proverbial genie released from the bottle after thousands of years in captivity: once they're out, they're out. And mine were most definitely out.
Anyway, at some point a few years later, I think we both started to feel badly over what happened, and slowly, gradually, we both apologized for our roles in the drama that had transpired. And we moved forward. So today, I'm thankful for the gift of grace, which allows us to freely forgive one another for making mistakes. And for this tangible, real-life reminder that redemption is always a possibility.
I liked watching him as he skittered back and forth across the court and made shots and passed the ball. He may not be the best player ever, but he has a lot of hustle --even the coach told him so-- and even more heart. And I'm thankful for that heart and determination because God willing, they'll take him as far as he'd like to go.
The teenage life is a hard one, filled with plenty of potholes and even more opportunities to make bad decisions. So tonight, as I listen to her crooning "Reckless Love" in the family room, I'm thankful that my girl has a strong sense of right and wrong and that somehow, in spite of me and the sometimes specious example I set for her, she has faith. Because that is a powerful thing to have at an early age.
Way back when I was a kid, I wanted a little girl. I dreamed of pink dresses and bows and dolls and dance class and make-up. I grew up surrounded by boys and courtesy of that plus several other factors, I never did a particularly good job of forming good, lasting relationships with my female peers. So there was something mysterious and alluring about the idea of sisterhood and the bonds that girls --and women-- can share with one another.
So when Abby was born 15 years ago, she was literally a dream come true. And although we're most definitely different people, I'm endlessly impressed with her wise-beyond-her-years maturity, her thoughtfulness, her sense of humor, her intelligence, and all of the other many bits and pieces that fit together to form her into the amazing young lady she is. It is truly an honor and a blessing to be her mom, and I am so very thankful that I was chosen for the job.
Happy birthday, Abby!
No significant observations to share, just the truth that it's fun to spend time with these people. And that time is always a God-given blessing.
Given that it was already nearly one o'clock, there was a significant wait for a table, followed by a significant wait to place and order and an even more significant wait for our food to arrive. I wasn't feeling particularly patient, but Isaac and Brady entertained themselves handily by taking a succession of silly selfies.
I watched them for a little while, and unlike most of the experience, those silly faces broke the tension a bit and made me smile. Like I so often say, life is lived mostly in the little moments, and I'm thankful to have had these little moments today.
