January 31

I was poking through the clearance section at Michael's this morning when I came across this box that was pushed to the back of a shelf.

I smiled when I saw it.

Logan.

I don't need physical reminders to think of him because he's always floating between my heart and my mind. 

But these visible little hellos are priceless and perpetually welcome additions to my days.

January 30

After I picked the boys up from school, Isaac skittered up to his bedroom and closed the door to do his homework. So I asked Brady if he'd like to walk up and down the street, and he said sure.

The conversation --which was more like playful banter-- was pretty inane, all things told: he shared that he'd attract the ladies with his muscles some day since muscles are cool, which made both of us giggle. It was that kind of fluffy stuff.

So today I'm thankful for silly conversations and for a quick stroll with my baby under a lovely blue sky.

January 29

When I checked my phone this morning, I had a string of messages from Abby that concluded with this:

And this little summation (plus all that came before, of course) was the highlight of my day. It's such a blessing to know that my girl has good girlfriends and that she's enjoying time with them. Those relationships are true and amazingly valuable blessings.

January 28

My friend Jake from high school (no, not Jake from State Farm) sent me this picture today.

That's me on the left, and my friend Julie on the right. We were 18-year old high school seniors at the time, and I'm pretty sure it was taken the day after Prom (although neither of us could remember for sure. And we have no clue where we were).

And oddly enough, even though I actually started at Claremont McKenna a few months after this was taken, I'm wearing a Wheaton College t-shirt.

You know, the school my now 18-year old daughter attends.

Seeing this image had an interesting effect on me. On a purely surface level, I mused that I actually looked nice. Maybe even a little pretty (though I only say that because Abby said so when I texted it her way). I always thought I was rather unremarkable-looking when I was younger so it was an unusual thought. But on a deeper level, it reminded me of how God often flashes a "wait" card when we pray.

See, I went to CMC, but I wanted to go to Wheaton. I thought it seemed like a wonderful, loving place to grow and learn. And I wanted to be connected to that community. I prayed for that connection.

Although it wasn't the plan for my college years, that sense of wanting to be there remained, so I always felt like maybe it might be the right fit for one of my children. And I prayed over that potential eventuality. 

And then I saw this image and realized that my prayer had been answered: 18-year old me was about 26 years too early, but she's wearing spirit wear for her someday daughter's school.

So if you're waiting on God, keep it up. It may take longer than you'd like, but He'll answer.

January 27

Dinnertime is always an experience at our house.

I prepared my scratch-made mac and cheese tonight and that a universally approved dish so there was general good cheer. Isaac and Brady gave the usual recaps of their respective school days. 

And then per norm, the weirdness began: BearBear came up onto the table to greet la Nora. The conversation volume increased a few notches. And then Isaac chose to make duck lips just as I pulled out my phone.

Yep, they're weird sometimes. But that uniqueness is a blessing.

January 26

I absolutely love some of the text interactions I have with Abby.

We have a similar sense of humor so we can shoot one-liners back and forth like nobody's business.

So this evening, I'm grateful for those little conversations that never fail to make me smile (and sometimes, even laugh out loud).

January 25

I had a few errands to run after drop-offs this morning. As I walked toward the high school to complete the final one, I thought I should see if Sandra wants to walk around the Sports Park. So I shot her a quick text to ask.

Long story short, she did, so we did. 

We took two full loops, in fact, and chatted the entire time about family. And a little about managing anxiety. (And I think this is an excellent photo of her so there's that, too.)

She's part of my Bible Study group so I see her now and again (and at church, of course), but one on one time can be so valuable, especially when conversation can just flow. So today, I'm thankful that she was available and willing to stroll.

January 24

It's Tuesday, which means Youth Group for the boys and date night for us.

While Adam chose steak for his entree (which made good sense since we dined at Cattlemen's), I went with ravioli, which came with a side of potato product. I always enjoy the mashed variety, so that's what I got.

I didn't give the combination much thought until the food arrived and I saw the two plates sitting side by side: ravioli and mashed potatoes. I chuckled at the bizarre combination and noted aloud that it took me 45 years, but I finally had those two items together.

Life is filled with unlikely combinations because that's how God likes to work sometimes: by uniting unlikely pairs and working through them to bring about something truly amazing. So tonight, I'm grateful for ravioli and mashed potatoes.

January 23

It was a crispy, beautiful blue-sky day.

Partly because I wanted (re: needed) the exercise and partly because the construction noise at a house across the street was starting to seep into my brain in a not-great way, I decided to take a walk after Bible study.

As I lumbered along, I periodically looked up at that unblemished canopy of azure and remembered how, not that long ago at all, my oldest son would look at me through eyes of a similar shade. And the memory made me smile and feel wistful all at once.

I miss my Logan every day. But I'm so thankful he was here. And that God makes these blue-eye skies so I can remember him purely by tilting my chin toward Heaven.

January 22

We had a gathering after the church service ended today and lunch was provided.

After they'd finished their modest initial servings of pasta and seconds were offered up, Isaac and Brady returned to the pot for refills. When they came back to the table, their paper plates were laden with heaping helpings of spaghetti. (There was plenty, don't worry. They made sure no one else wanted any more first. And it simplified the clean-up process.)

I recovered from my initial mortification at their piles of noodles and then laughed. They're growing kiddos for sure. And I'm perpetually grateful for that truth (even when proof of the truth is a wee bit embarrassing for mom).

January 21

It's our tradition to get ice cream to celebrate good report cards. (The older I get, the less comfortable I am with the idea of celebrating "good grades" so these days I tend to think of the treats as rewards for having "good semesters," meaning they've done well academically and made strides toward developing lasting good character. But that's an aside.)

So during halftime of today's Chiefs/Jags game, we piled into Adam's car (yes, Abby, Charles) and drove over to the Dairy, where both Isaac and Brady enjoyed chocolate/orange twist cones.

They did indeed do well last semester and I'm very proud of their collective academic performance. (Just like I'm proud of Abby's debut at Wheaton, which netted her an impressive three As and an A-.) But I'm more proud of them for their personal development. I'm pleased that they have good friends and that they enjoy going to Youth Group and that adults in their lives (who are not me or Adam) tell me that they enjoy having them around.

So today, I celebrate their success as young people. And I thank God that I get to be their mom (referee, chauffer driver, macaroni and cheese maker, and more).

January 20

I didn't take any photos today and I've had the hiccups for the past half hour.

So this is pretty much how I'm feeling at the moment. 

I've tried all of the usual remedies (except for being startled because there's no one else downstairs with me right now and I've never enjoyed that racing heart sensation you get from a good BOO!). But hiccup, hiccup, hiccup.

Hiccup, hiccup.

In a way, it's a metaphor for life: we face irritating troubles and do all that we can to fix them, but sometimes the answer that God gives is just... wait. 

So I'm waiting. And I'm grateful that at some point in the (hopefully) near future, my grand hiccup opus will conclude.

January 19

It seems that we've traded record rainfall for chilly temps, so I'm enjoying a cozy evening in with an ongoing crochet project (it's still growing, mom!) and some true crime on the tube.

I love my family and friends so much, but I love my low-key time, too; those sweet minutes when I can sit quietly and focus on my stitching or the TV. Or on whatever it is I feel God nudging me to do or think or write or pray. 

So for the blessing of stillness and respite, I am grateful.

January 18

Nikki and I did a pair of loops around the Sports Park this morning after middle school drop-offs.

(Well, first we stopped at Peet's for some warm beverages and then we walked. That's more accurate.)

Anyway, it's always fun to hang with Nikki, and today was no exception to that rule. I love that I can be my goofy, wise-cracking self when I'm with her, and I love that we can make each other chuckle so freely. And so often.

Friends are truly blessings, and I'm grateful that she continues to be part of my life.

January 17

A friend lost her beloved canine companion a few days before Christmas, so I figured out how to crochet paw prints, fished through my stash for yarn that felt right, and got to work.

Tonight, I finally gave her the final product.

The thing is, it's far from perfect. I somehow managed to screw up the stitch count so instead of being a square, it's more of an isosceles trapezoid.

As a perfectionist, it's hard to give away something that's not perfect. So once I realized my goof, I had to stop myself from just tossing it in my pile of unfinished projects. I made myself finish it and I made myself swallow my needs-to-be-perfect pride as I handed it over (while apologizing for its imperfect state).

She teared up when she saw those paw prints. And suddenly, the imperfections seemed less imperfect and more unique. Gifts don't have to be flawless in order to be good for the heart.

January 16

Since the boys didn't have school today, they spent most of their time playing video games in the living room (which, despite their spirited assertions, is not called the video game room. The part of me that screams I'm an adult, darn it, and this is my nice room! will not have it.)

Anyhow, at one point I walked by and spotted them cuddled together under my blanket. (Yes, my blanket, which Isaac steals whenever he gets the chance.) I thought they looked cute so I captured the moment.

I've said it many, many times before, but it's still true so I'll say it again: I am so grateful that they love each other. It may not always feel like it to them --especially when they're going at it like rabid dogs, as they do at times-- but their bond is a special gift.

January 15

We spent much of the day watching NFL playoff games.

Well, I guess it's more accurate to say that Adam and I watched football while Isaac and Brady played video games and occasionally popped in to check a score.

But it was extra nice when, as the Ravens game began this evening, Brady padded into the room with his menagerie of stuffies (which included his own as well as two of Abby's) and settled into a chair.

I so love that his stuffed animal-loving sweetness persists. I know it won't last forever, so I'm grateful that it's still a Thing today.

January 14

Since it's NFL wildcard weekend and the Niners were playing this afternoon, Adam's dad drove down and joined us to watch the game.

He picked up some Zachary's pizza that Adam ordered beforehand and then the male folk settled into the family room.

Although I only watched part of the game and spent much of my time in the bedroom crocheting and watching SVU (introverting, if you will), it still amused me to hear the outbursts from the other room whenever something noteworthy happened.

So today, I'm thankful for reasons to get together with family. And for victories!

January 13

I've been on a beanie-making kick for the past several days. 

I finished this one while nestled into my usual spot at the Mother Ship this morning, and when I got home a little later, I added it to the growing donation pile in the bedroom.

I really love having an ability that allows me to provide a little bit of (literal) warmth and comfort to others. I may not be able to fix the world's problems, but at least I can make a hat (and a scarf and a shawl and a blanket :) ).

January 12

It didn't rain today. At all.

It's a strange observation from someone who's lived in California (where precipitation is generally scarce) for more than 20 years, but it's true. And I am so thankful.

And I outwardly repeated my thankfulness as the hours ticked by. Every time I went outside or got in the car, I admired the blue sky and the dry street and thanked God for a break from the rain and the cold and the dreariness that's been he norm for the past few weeks.

So yep, today I'm thankful for clearer skies.

January 11

Today is my 45th birthday.

It was, all in all, a quiet one. Adam had a busy work day, so I took Isaac to school and then Brady and I enjoyed our usual Starbucks date. I briefly chit-chatted with Terry there before shuttling Brady to class.

And then I headed off to Target and Hobby Lobby and Joann, where I secured three different Corvettes (thanks Logan) and a single ball of yarn that I earmarked for beanies for this fall's military pack-out.

Adam ventured out into the rain to get cheesesteaks for us for lunch, and when he returned we talked and munched as he made my cake. (Which was, for the record, chocolate with homemade peanut butter frosting. And just for kicks I requested that he put whole peanuts in the middle layer, which he did. And it was delicious. But I'm getting ahead of myself.) 

I picked up the boys and then had a little downtime by myself before we went to dinner at the Gay 90s downtown. (That's me with a slice of Wayne's World, which is basically a Greek salad in pizza form.) And then back at home, Abby video called in while I opened presents (which included a book of crochet patterns for items for my cat, only I don't have a cat so I wondered if one might be forthcoming. Nope. No cat). And then we finished the celebration with the fiery inferno that was my cake: 45 candles blazing. (And no, I didn't get them all on the first try. Or the second. Or the third. But I did eventually get them all.)

Yes, all in all, it was a good day. I felt loved by my family and that's what matters most. It's strange to be 45, mostly because it's a shock to my system to realize that my 40th birthday --which seemed like such a big deal at the time-- was five whole years ago; that I'm already straddling the midpoint between 40 and 50. But that's okay too. I know I'm blessed and I know that I'm loved. And I'm grateful to God for every candle I've earned.

January 10

We headed off to Costco this evening after dropping the boys at Youth Group. After we finished our shopping in the mercifully minimally-peopled store, we settled down at a table in the food court with our hot dog (him) and chicken bake (me) and sodas had an identical simultaneous thought: it'd been quite a while since we'd had a meal at one of those white plastic tables.

We used to go once a week or so back when the big kids were littles; back when carefree Abby and Logan skipped and giggled through the aisles while little Isaac wistfully watched from the cart's baby seat. Back before Brady even was.

That was then, nearly 15 years ago, and this is now, of course, but the memories are still fresh and sweet in my mind.

And it was super sweet sitting there with my hunny remembering those days that passed so quickly but still mean so much.

January 9

Although rain pummeled the earth when I got up this morning, it actually came to a stop as the day wore on. 

And by the sunset hour, there was a glimmer of actual sunlight in the distance and almost blue sky tucked behind a thickening band of clouds (since, as is the recent norm, the rains are scheduled to move back in in a few hours' time). 

So tonight, I'm grateful for a peek at the sun. And for yet another reminder that the sun continues to shine even when it's out of view.

January 8

This morning we all got up, loaded into the car, and took Abby to the airport for her return flight to Chicago.

We didn't do anything special during break, per se. We went to church and shopped and put up Christmas decorations and drove around to look at others' light displays and shopped and made cookies and played board games and opened gifts and watched movies and shopped (although I guess I already mentioned that last one). 

It was, in summation, a regular old break at home.

But you know something? It was amazing because we were here together, in our house, just being. And I know it was amazing because scenes like this one don't play out unless something amazing has taken place; we don't grieve separation from people with whom we don't share deep connections.

So the next time you're tempted to feel like you don't do anything extraordinary, remember that just being with people we love is the true "special" stuff of this life.

January 7

Abby heads back to school tomorrow, so we kinda sorta let her decide what we'd do today.

So she chose Nation's for lunch (because she does love a good cheeseburger) and Black Bear for dinner.

And in between, while the male folk were all in Oakland for a monster truck rally (yup, totally serious) with Adam's parents and his brother's fam, she and I ventured out to Crumbl for some cookie action. And to Target, just because it's an institution. (And since that bottom left photo would be totally random without explanation, I'll add that when we got home from dinner, she and I donned the hooded pajamas that my mom sent us. Thanks Mom! Your packages got here just in time for us to slide into our inner blueberry and raspberry personas!)

In a way, it feels like she just got here. Part of me is sad that it's already time for her to go back for the second semester, but the other part of me is excited for whatever is in store for her at Wheaton this spring. I'm excited to see her friendships and her faith deepen even more. And I look forward to more tales from campus. I'll miss my one and only girl, but I'm so proud of her and I'm optimistic about this next leg of her journey. Get it, girl. I love you!

January 6

We've played numerous games over break, but we finally got around to playing Scrabble tonight.

I'm pleased to announce that I continued my dominance and took the win by more than 60 points.

But I'm even more pleased to report that it was a fun experience. No one complained or threw fits, everyone came up with genuinely good words to spell out, and we managed to use (almost) all of the letters . It was by far our personal best in terms of complete board usage.

So tonight, I'm grateful for another family game night with my peeps.

January 5

My girl and I had another morning fill-up at the 'bux this morning before we braved the rain to do a little shopping.

There was nothing unusual about the outing: I had my usual coffee, she had her customary caramel brulee latte. We window-shopped at Hallmark and picked up a few groceries (mostly yogurt, since Isaac saw the orthodontist yesterday so his mouth is a bit sore).

But most importantly, we were together. Me and my broke little best friend who thinks I'm rich (to quote a meme I saw a few years ago) just did our thing. 

And for that, I'm grateful, especially as her return to Wheaton for the Spring semester is just a few days away.

January 4

I've always thought that I'd fare poorly in the Pacific Northwest, since I like sunshine and don't do well with pervasive cloud-cover and rain. But that's just what we've gotten of late --rain, rain, and more rain, often in torrential style-- and there's (much) more of the same in the extended forecast. (Plus tonight we're getting torrential rain and high winds, which I can hear whooshing by the pop-out window in the kitchen.)

So I was pleased this morning when, as I drove out to visit the Mother Ship for my cuppa java, I saw a swath of baby blue peeking through the dark, dark clouds. 

It was a great reminder to me that above the troubles of this life, blue skies are always there. We may not be able to see them when the rain pounds the earth and the winds blow, but we can rest assured that our inability to see doesn't negate their existence.

January 3

I've come to really appreciate and enjoy our date nights.

It's true that tonight's outing was the result of a scheduling oops (since the boys didn't have Youth Group this week), but the error wasn't uncovered until we'd already secured dinner for the kiddos. So out we went nonetheless.

It was really nice to just sit there with my hunny talking about Abby and Isaac and Brady and his return to work (tomorrow, but still from home at least, which is good since there's a whopper of a storm headed this'a'way). And what we might want to do over the summer and how we've changed since college. (We cover a lot of ground.)

So yes, it was good. And I am grateful for those moments and the conversation and our continuing love and care for one another.

January 2

God gave my kids many wonderful (and unique) qualities, but one of the most life-giving traits they all posses in spades is a zany sense of humor.

So it didn't surprise me at all when Abby impulsively jumped from her perch on the couch this afternoon to bust a move to the "Criminal Minds" theme song. It was an impassioned dance, and the way she threw her entire body into the routine was rather breathtaking.

There are so many things about this life that aren't funny at all, so I'm thankful for these lighthearted moments. (And, of course, for this young woman of mine and her smooth moves.)

January 1

The first day of 2023 was capped by clear blue skies and bursting with sunshine here in our little pocket of the Bay Area. And although the Sunday'ness made it feel different than most New Year's days of the past, the contrast between today's beams of sunlight and yesterday's torrential downpours made it feel like the days were truly part of two very different volumes of time. It genuinely felt like we were starting something brand new and fresh and wonderful as the day dawned.

For our part, it was a normal Sunday, with church in the morning and a visit to Logan's grave and lunch and a walk around the 'hood with my hunny and the Niners game on TV. (And scrapbooking for Abby, who has less than no interest in football. Or any sport.)

And a little later, there was the Ravens game and  dinner at the kitchen table, which spurred this bizarre sight. I have no idea what they were doing, but it was a very "them" thing to do, so I wanted to remember it in all of its them'ness. 

So today, I'm thankful for them and for us and for their them'ness and for our us'ness. And for the sunshine and the very salient reminder that although storms may rage in our lives, the sun will eventually come out again. Especially if we know the Son.