September 30

When I woke up this morning, I had grand ideas of dropping the boys at school in my pajamas, driving home, and going back to bed. But I didn't wind up doing that. I got dressed, did the school-thing, bought a raspberry filled donut from the Jelly Donut, and settled into a chair at the Mother Ship for some coffee. And crochet.

As I worked on this square (or one just like it), the older'ish guy who sat down across from me asked what I was making. I replied that I wasn't sure yet (which is true) but that I'd need lots of little squares to make whatever it'll eventually be. And then we spent the next hour chit-chatting about our respective lives.

I have no idea if I'll ever run into this person again, but it was a blessing to just sit and hear tales from someone else's life for a short while. It was an excellent reminder to always extend grace since we often know nothing of the burdens that others carry.

September 29

Since Isaac was home from school today and I didn't have to dash across town to pick him up (although he's back in class tomorrow -- COVID negative, thank goodness!), I took a rare opportunity to walk Brady home.

This littlest kid of mine is a big talker, so he chattered about his day during much of our mile-long trek home. I learned about the bosco sticks he finally got to try out for lunch (verdict: good, but he'd prefer chicken nuggets) and how the class changed tables at day's end and how he thinks the customary system of measurement (as opposed to the metric system) is dumb. (Seriously, he has a very strong opinion on this.)

I'm always interested in knowing what's going on in their little minds, so the one-on-one time in the sunshine with this one was a blessing.

September 28

My girl drove herself to school this morning for the first time ever. 

But I nearly missed her departure. As I opened my bedroom door, I caught a glimpse of her backpack as it bobbed down the front stairs to the driveway. With phone in hand and brain in partial working order, I frantically skittered around the corner and down the stairs just as she reached the driver's side door.

My pillow-haired, pajama'd, barefoot self must've cut quite the impressive figure to anyone who happened to glance outside at that moment, but I didn't care because something big was happening. I stood there grinning at her as she got inside and then after she closed the door. And then I made her open the window so I could take a photo to commemorate the event. 

So here she is, wearing her best exasperated "mom, why are you doing this to me?" smile just moments before she drove off to school on her own. 

It was a bittersweet experience to watch the car disappear around the corner with her behind the wheel. I'm so, so proud of who she is -- of her kindness, her thoughtfulness, and her faith. And I'm so proud of her for trying to embrace new experiences, given that I know she'd prefer that everything remain mostly the same. And beyond all of that, I'm thankful for the opportunity to continue to watch her grow and blossom into a wonderful young woman. It's bittersweet to loosen my grip on her, of course, but it is such a blessing to be her mom and to have the gift of seeing her become who God intended her to be.

September 27

Isaac wasn't feeling well over the weekend: congestion, low-grade fever, lots of napping. I'm sure that by now your COVID alarms are going off, so I'll say that we're currently waiting on his test result to come in. Boo yah.

Anyhow, though he's feeling better, he (obviously) stayed home from school today (and will be home at least tomorrow as well, since he has to provide proof of a negative test to return). And for most of the day, he was, for lack of a more appropriate term, bored.

And although he drove me half-crazy with questions and random comments and bizarre boredom-busting activities like sliding across the hardwood floor on his back and chasing this paper bag around the kitchen, we did have a sweet exchange. 

Me, observing the obvious: Isaac, are you bored?

Isaac, looking up at me from the spot on the floor where he'd taken up temporary residence: No! I get to talk to you!

It's a blessing to be appreciated and valued. And it's a bigger blessing when someone tells you that you're appreciated and valued. Even if said-person is a teenage boy with nothing else to do.

September 26

Adam is a lifelong 49ers fan. Brady has a stuffed 49er, so whenever they play, son gives dad his Steve (named for Steve Young, of course) so they can watch the game together.

It's always amusing to walk by and see them sitting together (and to see Adam tossing Steve into the air during exciting game moments), but beyond that, my littlest's gesture of care makes my heart happy.

Because those little moments of care are far from little to me.

September 25

I had grand plans to make calzones for dinner tonight. But you know what they say about best-laid plans.

Abby and I went on a quick shopping trip during the late morning hours, and then I came home and addressed my ongoing allergy issues. Zyrtec, Mucinex-D and Benadryl later, I was pretty tired, so I conked out in our room.

Adam appeared at some point and asked if I still wanted to make dinner. I felt bad about it, but I asked if he could just do it, and he said he'd go ahead and make pizza. And so he did.

So tonight, I am once again grateful for my amazing husband. He truly has the heart of a servant, and I am thankful.

September 24

The annual cross-town rival football game is tonight at Abby's school. My daughter, naturally, has zero interest in said event, but she did go to dinner with some friends downtown beforehand. And then she texted to ask if I could pick her up when they were done.

As I piloted Adam's truck across town, it occurred to me that these days of her asking me to come pick her up are numbered. In some ways, that's a good thing because we want her to be more independent. She's a senior, after all, and next year she'll be in college... somewhere. And largely on her own.

But it was a bittersweet thought nonetheless, because it once again brought into focus the keen awareness that she's growing up really quickly. So just for kicks, here she is wearing a class of '22 shirt, being goofy as she approached the car. Because I always want to look back and remember these days as the blessings that they are.

September 23

This guy really came through today.

Well, truthfully speaking, Adam almost always comes through, but today I'm especially appreciative of his come through-ness.

I woke up feeling like an allergic mess this morning, so after hitting the snooze button on my alarm twice, I got up, looked myself over in the mirror, and shuffled to the office to ask him if he could drive the boys to school. 

And he did just that. And I got to go back to bed for a few hours.

He's a blessing to me every day, but today's gesture was extra special. And I am thankful.

September 22

I've not noticed much in my current allergic haze, but I couldn't NOT notice these goofers after dinner tonight.

There's a long-standing joke that I have t-rex arms (because although they're not ridiculously short, my arms are a little on the less-long side). So Isaac decided to pull his arms into his shirt and wave them around in my honor.

Then Brady followed suit, and then before I even processed what they were doing, they were slapping at each other with their arms tucked inside their shirts.

It was odd. But amusing. And when I feel less than great, it's nice to feel amused.

September 21

After dinner tonight, Abby, Isaac, and Brady all escaped to the backyard. There was no coordinated effort, but when I took a peek a few minutes later, I found the boys circling the pool and Abby doing laps on the second level by the fire pit.

It's not unusual for Abby to do laps, but 'tis a little stranger for the boys to follow suit. Yet there they were nonetheless.

Anyway, I just watched them for a few seconds. And as I did, I felt a renewed sense of gratitude for their health and for this lovely space that we can call our own. 

September 20

On typical days, Brady bounces out of bed and down the stairs like a ping-pong ball on speed.

Isaac tends to move at a somewhat slower pace. 

I totally blame the Mondayness of it all, but today, both boys were a little on the slower-to-move side of the street. So after Isaac secured his morning Dum-Dum (yep, he eats a lollipop every morning. He says it freshens his breath. I figure it's not worth the fight), he laid back on the back. And a moment later, Brady went in for a hug.

These two definitely fight like caged dogs at times, but underneath the bravado, I love their love for each other. Because ultimately, this life is about how well we express love.

September 19

My allergies are flaring so I tried to keep today as low-key as possible. As I wrestled with my swollen sinuses and the accompanying congestion that's plagued me for much of my lifetime, I felt a familiar sense of frustration creeping to mind. So I picked up my Bible and flipped through its pages.

I so love these red letters. I love how they speak truth and I love how they give direction and encouragement. And I love how reading these words can give me a sense of peace like no other.

So yep: even on days when I feel less than awesome, I am thankful that such an amazing instruction book for living this life exists.

September 18

I walked by the dining room this afternoon and found Abby, Brady, and a legion of their stuffed animals (bears and unicorns, to be precise) drafting a peace accord.

I so love it when my kiddos play together. 

And I love it even more when my 16-year old is willing to do silly things like write up peace treaties between animal nations because she knows it will amuse her littlest brother.

That's love right there (even if they wouldn't call it that). And I am grateful.

September 17

If I'm honest, I'll say that I didn't notice much of anything today. I fell asleep when I tried to pray this morning and I felt like I was just dragging myself from place to place this afternoon.

But then I saw Abby's little backpack purse on the couch as she wandered around getting ready to go to a friend's house and it made me smile.

See, this purse didn't exist a week ago. She decided she wanted one like it the night before her Senior class picnic and trip to Water World earlier this week, so she made it. She took some fabric and buttons she had her in closet and put it together. Just like that. No pattern required.

I don't have that particular talent, so her ability to just create clothes (and apparently handbags) just amazes me. It's a blessing for sure.

September 16

As dinner drew to a close tonight, Adam told the boys to hurry up and finish their burgers because Abby was going to drive us to Coldstone to celebrate getting her license.

So that's what we did: we piled into Adam's car and with Abby at the wheel, we headed down the hill to get some ice cream.

And here they are: my people. (Well, four of them, anyway.) My people with their wacky ice cream picks; their mint with gummy bears, cake batter with sprinkles, and sorbet with Sour Patch Kids. (And me? Peanut butter cake batter and peanut butter cups. I'm peanut butter vanilla.)

Anyhow, I am grateful for the treat and for the achievement that led to the treat and for the amusing moments that punctuated our time at that little table, like when Adam asked Isaac if he liked any girls at school and said 13-year old laughed, pulled up his mask, and turned bright red in response. And even though it was chilly out and the wind crept up the back of my sweater more than once, my heart was warm because I was with my people.

September 15

Abby took --and passed-- her road test today. That's right, folks: we have an officially licensed teenage driver in our house.

This shouldn't be a surprising development for me given that she'll be 17 in less than two months AND she's a senior in high school AND we're in the thick of college application hoopla, but somehow, it is nonetheless. 

It's jarring because when I look at her, I still see her as my baby. I see her strapped to Adam's chest in the Bjorn, laughing maniacally at a shirt on a hanger at Kohl's. I see her as the toddler who stealthily escaped her crib and stood behind the gate at the top of the stairs chomping on her pacifier and staring eagle-eyed at Adam and I as we watched TV. I see her as the fifth grade graduate and as the 13-year old who had such a good time at the eighth grade promotion dance that she literally glowed as she got into my car afterward. And I see her as the seven-year old who had to strap on boots that were far, far too big for her as she said so long for now to her very best friend. 

All of those versions of her are still her, of course, because we're all the sum of our experiences and all of those pieces of us --even the ones with jagged edges that cut into our hearts sometimes-- are important and valuable and help shape who we are. But she's definitely growing up, and though it's weird for me to watch her grow so quickly (and it's so, so odd to think about her driving herself where she wants to go), I couldn't be prouder or more grateful for who she was, is, and will be.

September 14

There's something in my yard (or a nearby one) that activates my allergies in a very big way every now and again. Today has definitely been a now and again kind of time.

Even as I deal with a bad sinus headache and extreme congestion, I am grateful to have a drawer full of medications that can (hopefully) help me to manage the symptoms. 

September 13

It was --much to my dismay-- another nearly 100 degree day in Northern California.

I don't love hot weather (and I don't particularly enjoy sweating just for sweat's sake) so I'm looking forward to what I call Pumpkin Weather: cooler temps and all of the seasonal adjustments that go along with them. 

So as I wandered through the entry way of our house this evening, I was happy to see that the air outside had cooled significantly as evening set in.

To me, those 70-ish degree temperatures are a blessing (and a relief!), so I am grateful.

September 12

It was a quiet day (for me, anyway), with just church and lots of time at home.

I spent much of that home-time finishing this (which is a zoom-in on a bigger project). I already know who will receive it so I'll just leave you with a small swatch of the pattern to avoid spoiling the surprise. (And as Abby pointed out to me, I wrote about this a few days ago as well, when I first got started. D'oh. My memory is seriously lacking these days.)

It's a pretty simple piece; I just repeated four rows of three different stitches over and over again. And it's all this color, which poor lighting notwithstanding is actually a rather vibrant turquoise.

Anyway, today I'm grateful for down time and for the ability to create gifts for people I hold dear. 

September 11

Abby said she woke up this morning and felt productive, so she decided to paint flowers on her bedroom wall.

She'd been planning to paint said-cherry blossoms and hang her mirror for several months now so I was happy to see that she finally decided to get it done.

There's something really wonderful about feeling like your space is truly your space, so I'm happy that she took a step toward making that happen for herself. As she approaches graduation, it's a huge blessing to see her making choices and being herself in outward ways.

September 10

It rained for about two minutes this morning, which is two minutes more than it's rained here since, oh, probably January. Maybe February.

I was coming down the stairs when I noticed that the pool water didn't have its usual smooth appearance. I stepped closer to the dining room window to try to solve the mystery and was surprised to see that the deck was moist (I used that word just for you, Abby) and that there were actual raindrops falling from the sky.

I watched as my decidedly gleeful sons scooted out the door and up to the upper deck and then back down again. 

Anyway, the wee shower didn't last long, but I'm glad to have seen it and I'm thankful for the small amount of moisture it provided to our very, very dry land. And I'm grateful for the clearer sky we were blessed with as the day progressed. It's amazing to realize how much a minimal amount of rainfall can refresh the air.

September 9

I love this pic of me and the Brositos.

Adam's been unusually busy with work of late, so we went out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory tonight. Isaac and Brady were feeling a little goofy, so at one point (and admittedly aided by half of a mojito) I leaned over and smooched Isaac on the cheek. I had no idea that he was making this face, and I really had no idea that Brady had photobombed us with those gigantic eyes.

It made me laugh aloud when I saw it. So for the downtime with them and for the laughs, I am grateful, because truthfully, I usually feel like I have far too little of both.

September 8

As the sun dipped toward the distant horizon early this evening, I had an inkling that the sunset would be a good one so I headed out to the deck.

And I was right: it was lovely. And what was perhaps just as lovely was my view of Isaac and Brady playing catch in the foreground of that magnificent painting. There's something soothing about the hum of their chit-chat and the thwack of the ball and it hits the glove.

This life we live is far from perfect, but it's still objectively beautiful at times. And I am thankful for those moments.

September 7

I went to Michaels this morning looking for a specific brand of green yarn so I'd have enough to finish a Christmas-themed blanket that I started last week for my family. (It's big. Quite big.) They didn't have the right shade, but they did have several skeins of turquoise. And though I hadn't thought about it for years, it then occurred to me that turquoise was always one of my grandma's favorite colors.

And since this is our year to go back east for Christmas and we typically stay with her when we do and it's always hard to know what to give her, I bought it. And then I got to work on a little lap blanket. 

So today I'm grateful to have had the sudden recollection that turquoise is her favorite. 

September 6

Summer is definitely waning. Although it was over 100 degrees out this afternoon, I know that before I blink, the pool will close for the season and the air will grow cooler and the boys will play fewer games of catch in the yard. 

So I was happy to head to the patio after dinner for some shave ice with my favorite people. (Abby and Adam were there too, of course, but less willing to be photographed.) Time spent with them is always a  blessing.

September 5

The sacrament of Communion is very significant in Protestant churches, just like it is for Catholics, but we don't generally do a big production when children first take the bread and cup; there are no white dresses or suits. We just instruct them on the meaning, and then they join us during the service. That's it.

Today, it was Brady's turn to take Communion for the first time. So the boys joined us during the service, took the bread and the cup with Adam and I (Abby was in the back with her youth group friend), and headed off to class.

It was a relatively quick moment that passed in a few blinks of the eye, but seeing him join in with us for the first time ever was a beautiful thing. And I am grateful.

September 4

After a rather long break, we got to see Isaac in action on the baseball diamond today during the first two games of a four-game weekend tournament in Danville. (He's the third kid from the left in the pic, which was taken during a quick lunch break.)

It's true that the new-ish look Spartans didn't fare particularly well during the two games they played, but Isaac had a few hits and some solid defense, so he finished the outing in a good frame of mind.

The sunlight was unrelenting and the temperature high, but it was wonderful to see him out there again doing something he loves, so I am grateful for those hours in the sun.

September 3

When pick-up time rolls around each day, I park near the school and walk over so I can meet Brady. 

And every day, I see him emerge from beyond the gate and come charging in my direction. On most days, he waves at me until I wave back. And then we get in the car and continue with pick-ups.

I love this time. I love how I can see him scanning the other parents before he sees me and I love how he waves so enthusiastically when his gaze finally finds mine. And I love walking with him.

He's in fifth grade so he could absolutely walk over to the car by himself. But he's my baby, and I'm treasuring these last moments of elementary school; even the mundane ones that happen every day. Especially those.

September 2

I drive a hybrid that hasn't wanted to charge for a few months now. It usually starts charging, but then stops shortly thereafter. Needless to say, it's been a niggling source of frustration for me, and I'd tried several times to use the one free charging station in town to rule out a problem with the car itself, but it was always in use. (Duh me. Free, after all. Sure, I could've used a pay-for-use station, but since I wasn't sure the car would take the charge, I didn't want to do that. Frugality runs deep in my bones.)

But since I'm virtually never one to give up, I tried again this morning after drop-off. When I first drove by, there was a Tesla in the stall, so I sighed, joined the nearby Mother Ship drive-thru, and got my java. (Okay. And a slice of lemon loaf cake because that stuff is go-oo-ood.) And I thought about how I was going to go home and take a nap.

But the nap didn't happen, because I looked over as I was driving toward the exit and spied a man unplugging the aforementioned Tesla. Pleased by the development, I waited until he'd left and then awkwardly finagled my way into the designated charging spot and plugged her in.

Long tale a wee bit shorter, I took my allowed two hours of time and the battery successfully charged to 90%. I drove away feeling victorious both because I determined that the problem is not with the car, and because my persistence finally paid off. 

It's easy to throw in the proverbial towel when facing a tough or frustrating situation, but I think it's better to have faith, keep trying, and wait for the miracle to happen.

September 1

I got to spend some time with Nikki and Dani at the Sports Park this morning.

We walked a little (which is good because a trip to Jelly Donut ended with me having more donuts than planned) and watched Dani (who somehow just turned 4; crazy stuff since I clearly remember holding her at the hospital on the day she was born) play on two different structures while we caught up on life. 

We may not see each other as often as we did before my family moved, but I am so grateful for her continued friendship. And I am grateful that I know for sure that she'll always be there if I need a pal because that kind of relationship is one of this life's biggest blessings.