December 31

As the clock ticks its way toward midnight and the dawn of 2024, we're settled in the family room watching It's a Wonderful Life. It was Adam's pick; we usually view it on Christmas Eve and initially I thought it was odd to be seeing it tonight, but when I mulled it more deeply, I realized that it's definitely not strange. Not at all. In fact, I think New Year's Eve is the ideal time to reflect on the simple truth that it really is a wonderful life. Not a perfect life. Not a life without struggle or pain or heartbreak. Not a life that hands me everything I want. Not a life without questions that I'll never be able to answer before I see Jesus face to face. But even in its rampant imperfection, it's still wonderful because it's part of God's master plan.

It's been a good year, I'd say. A calm one, filled with a lot of baseball. (A whole lot.) We watched the kids slide into their second years at their respective schools. We watched their friendships continue to grow and deepen. We watched our girl enter the final of her teen years and our youngest, the first of his own. We saw them continue to grow and mature into pretty amazing young people who impress us with their intellect and compassion and surprise us with their wit almost every day.

I saw myself become a little quieter; a little less exuberant and a lot less worried about what other people think of me. I'm not entirely sure why the latter came to be; it's just something that I woke up one recent morning and found to be true. A friend once told me that we stop caring so much about other people's opinions during our 40s and perhaps she was right. I'm at peace when I seek God and love and forgive, and that's enough for me.

As we enter 2024, I'm grateful for 2023 and for all of the blessings that came our way. And I know that no matter what lies ahead, our experiences --my experiences-- will be used to advance God's good plan and purpose for His people. And that's a pretty amazing truth.

Happy New Year!

December 30

For a while, it was our custom to go out to lunch on Saturdays. When Adam and I were still young parents, Sweet Tomatoes --where a wide-eyed toddler Isaac conducted exacting assaults on many a bowl of peas-- was our destination. A little further along on the timeline, it was all about Red Tractor.

Anyway, Abby's been feeling nostalgic about those days, so she asked if we could go to lunch today. So we all piled into Charles (which is also sometimes known as the Explorer) and drove over to Black Bear Diner.

Some of us had breakfast while others went with lunch options. And we all had a good time together talking and researching our random topic of the moment: the world's biggest shopping malls. (Don't ask how it came up because I'm not sure.)

Time around the table --any table-- with these people is a blessing.

December 29

Ah, sweet brotherly love.

I'm not sure exactly why Brady and Isaac were hugging in the kitchen after dinner tonight, but they were. And, much to Brady's consternation, I was a fast enough draw with my phone to capture the moment before he could run off.

I am, as always, grateful for their love for one another. 

December 28

Nikki's birthday was a few months ago and we finally got around to celebrating her tonight.

We met at Strizzi's downtown, where we chose identical dinner selections of prosecco, blue cheese wedge salads, and rigatoni. 

And we sat and talked and caught up on each other's lives. It was a wonderful, chill, comfortable evening.

I'm so grateful that we're still in each other's lives. We may not get together as often as we once did, but when we do, it's always fun. And it's so wonderful to just be me with someone who knows me and loves me despite my me-ness. 

So for all of that, I am thankful, because good friends can be hard to find and even harder to keep.

December 27

When I discovered the tragic truth that Terry had never sampled Crumbl cookies, I hatched a devious plan to escort her taste buds into the land of baked bliss.

Which, when translated from Colorful English Major Imagery into Normal Person Vernacular, means "Abby and I went out this morning and bought this week's lineup of cookies and then headed over to the Mother Ship so we could make her sample them with us (and--and this is important since I'm trying to eat more responsibly-- take the leftovers with her)".

It was my Christmas "gift" to her. She's been a good, consistent friend this year, and I'm thankful that she's in my life. 

I think friends are among God's greatest blessings to us, and I'm grateful for how mine make me think and laugh and grow every day.

December 26

Abby expressed interest in visiting the mall at some point while she's home, so that's what we did today.

Well, it wasn't just the mall; it was Walmart and Target and another Walmart and Hallmark and Walgreens and Safeway, too. But the primary destination was the mall. 

It was, as is so often the case, nice to be out with my girl. I know our time is limited during this phase of life, so I'm grateful for those minutes we have to do regular, ordinary things together.

December 25

Merry Christmas, my friends! I hope it's been a blessed day for all of you. It certainly was for us.

In the interest of full disclosure, I was a bit bummed to be here in California since this is the year we'd usually be back in Maryland with my family, but that sense of disappointment quickly disappeared when I emerged from the bedroom at a little before 8 AM. 

When I did, I found only Adam seated on a couch in the family room. Alone. No kids anywhere. We both chuckled over the silence and I silently mused that we have indeed moved on to the "just teenagers in the house" phase of life. (In their defense, though, I soon found out that they were all awake; they were merely staying upstairs until given the go-ahead to come down. It was still a far cry from the days of 3 AM visits to our bedside asking if we could please, please, please go see if Santa came yet?!)

After Adam popped the cinnamon rolls in the oven and I made myself a cuppa joe (and I am very thankful that despite a lack of regular use, my Keurig still worked!), we went into the living room. Stocking exploration was up first, followed by several hours of gift-opening around the tree.

There were so many creative gifts and so many belly laughs over said-creative gifts that I couldn't possibly share them all. Special highlights were items given to Brady by Abby and Isaac, respectively: a personalized pillow featuring his forehead, and Chub's mom. And one to me that Adam picked up just yesterday in response to a question that was posed by Abby the other day. When she asked what present I'd most like to receive, I thought I was being funny when I chose a private plane with a pilot at my beck and call. So my sly hunny bought me a toy Paw Patrol plane complete with Skye as its pilot. (He got me. It was very, very well-played.)

There was also dancing in the kitchen while we noshed on cinnamon rolls, which resulted in one of the most epic photos of Isaac that I've ever seen, and a long round of Unstable Unicorns using the two expansion decks Brady received. (I'm pleased to say that once the skittering of hooves ceased and the dust settled, I won.)

From there we broke into smaller groups, with the kiddos heading back to the living room to create Chub's family tree via Paper Mario, Adam napping, and me watching football while playing Monopoly GO. And then there was a quick stroll around the neighborhood for Adam and me, spaghetti for dinner, and the big evening event: the Niners/Ravens clash of the titans game. I'm gratified to report that unlike the most recent time the two teams played in a Superbowl, we all remained peaceful and pleasant, and though my fellow Baltimore sports fan Brady and I were happy to see the Ravens come out on top, I was bummed for Adam and Isaac. 

And now... now it's just late. Everyone else is in bed. And it's quiet, save the sound of the ice maker doing its thing on the kitchen counter. It has indeed been a wonderful day, filled with laughter and fun and family. But it's also been a day of reflection. More than once I thought of Logan and wondered how things would be different if he were here. And I felt that twinge of sadness because it's always hard when a bright light fades away so soon. It's a strange juxtaposition to live with and I often wonder how it is that I can simultaneously feel such fulfilling, deep contentment and a sense of unending longing for that sweet boy of mine. 

But I suppose that's why Christmas is. It happened to give us hope that there is a tomorrow beyond what we can see. To give us certainty that we will again be with loved ones who have gone ahead without us. That there is indeed something wonderful beyond this world that we can currently see and touch and smell and feel and hear. And that truth --that Jesus' birth means our troubles and longings will one day cease-- is beautiful.

So yes, it's been a wonderful day. A beautiful Christmas. And I am so very thankful for the memories and the fun and the promise of what will one day be.

December 24

It was a lovely Christmas Eve.

It began with church, where our family did the Advent reading and the lighting of the love and Christ candles. Something about the innate beauty of the season made the service seem more special to my ears and significant to my heart, so I was grateful for that gift. (And I'm also grateful for our friend Laura, who took photos for me and sent them my way!)

A little later in the day, Adam made gingerbread dough and we all decorated cookies; some of us showed our creative and artistic talents more obviously than others. (Spoiler alert: I was not one of the gifted ones.)

When the time came, dinner was served in the dining room on the good china and consisted of steak, potatoes, bacon-wrapped green beans, and scratch-made rolls, all prepared by Adam. (He was a busy kitchen elf today.)

And then this evening, we screened Home Alone and put out cookies and milk for Santa before the kiddos went off to bed. At this moment, Adam and I are watching Die Hard, which he was shocked to hear I'd never seen.

Yes, it was a lovely family day, and I am grateful for every sweet moment.

December 23

Following a multi-year COVID-induced hiatus, today marked the grand return of the Bay Area Wight Elephant Christmas party.

Don and birthday girl Ann graciously opened their home to host the event, and we all gathered mid-morning for brunch. The food was all so good (seriously so good) and the prosecco and orange juice flowed freely into my glass so I was happy. (Kidding. Kind of.)

The gift exchange was as amusing as always. Highlights were plentiful, and included Brady "losing" his Christmas Story-inspired leg lamp to Uncle Russ and then immediately stealing a pair of bright, bell-bejangled (I think I just made up that word) elf slippers that captured the fancy of house dog Cooper. And military man Jacob tearing the wrapping paper from his very own fashionista Ken doll (which, through guffaws, he promised to prominently display back on base).

The final photo is a unique one: it captures the first child (Abby) of the first child (Adam) of the first child (Adam's dad Steve) of the first child (Adam's grandmother Joan).

After spending the morning and part of the afternoon with this group, I was persuaded for the umpteenth time that I am blessed to be one of them. Family isn't perfect but even with its shortcomings and frustrations it's a blessing, and I am grateful.

December 22

For as long as I can recall, we've taken the kids to Mountain Mike's for lunch on the last day of the semester. And today was the day.

We had to divide and conquer since the boys get out at essentially the same time on minimum (also known as half) days, but after battling the usual atrocious post-school traffic, we finally met up for said pizza.

We rarely have lunch together during weekdays, so it was nice to sit at the table munching and chatting. It's strange to think that the school year is half over, but here we are: Isaac is halfway through his sophomore year, Abby is halfway through her college sophomore year, and Brady is (gulp) halfway through middle school. (When I pointed that out to him in the car earlier, he remarked that he wasn't thrilled that high school is on the horizon. I assured him he'd be ready when the time comes. And he will. But I digress.)

I'm proud of all of them for their academic and personal efforts and successes. They're intelligent, good people, and I am blessed to be their mom.

December 21

I wasn't really thinking when this morning, as we pulled out of the Mother Ship parking lot, I told Abby that we were going to go on a Costco run.

Because Costco is a virtual zoo this time of year, which I remembered as we rounded the corner in front of the store and I spied a line of cars parked along the side of the road. Oops.

But, as it turned out, it wasn't much of an oops after all. There were lots of cars circling the parking lot, but we found a space quickly. (In the back, of course, but why not?) There were also lots of people inside, but Abby navigated the cart like a champ, we got what we needed (and in some cases just wanted), and hit the efficiently-run self-checkout line in good time. Even a brief stop by the food court for a smoothie and a hot dog and soda combo (because it's still just $1.50, baby!) didn't slow our pace much at all. 

It was, all in all, a blessedly easy trip. And even better, I got to spend time walking around with my girl, which is always a blessing.

December 20

Abby joined Brady and me for our weekly Mother Ship outing this morning.

While I chatted with Terry, they sat next to us at the table doing their own thing. For a while, Abby took terrible photos of Brady and they chuckled together over the results. (Donkey from Shrek, anyone?) 

And then, quite out of the blue (it seemed), they were taking a selfie together. I snapped this pic of them just a half-second before Brady threw his hands over his face. 

It was a lovely moment and I'm glad to have been there to witness it, even if it did only last for a few seconds. Being friendly with your siblings is a gift.

December 19

It was one of those weird-weather days we have every now and again: cycles of rain and dark clouds followed by sunshine followed by blue sky.

And it all began with a rainbow for us.

Abby and I saw it, plump with vibrant color and glittering against its grey celestial backdrop, as we arrived at the Mother Ship for some morning libations. So I told her to go stand under it.

I love rainbows. In addition to being objectively beautiful, they make me think of promises and of the goodness of God, even in uncertain times. And that is a blessing.

December 18

One of the things that Abby enjoys doing while she's at home is consuming B.L.E.T.s. 

A B.L.E.T. is a bacon, lettuce, egg, and tomato sandwich, and it's served at The Press, a restaurant here in town.

So after I dropped the boys at school, stopped by the Mother Ship, and went to my Bible study, I picked her up and took her for her first B.L.E.T. of the season.

It was busy but not terribly crowded, and it was very nice to just sit with my girl as we ate lunch. That time together is a blessing.

December 17

It was a wonderful day that featured two different Christmas celebrations for our family.

The first was at church, where we enjoyed a nice lunch, the boys helped out with games, and Adam, Abby and I socialized.

Then we headed home so we could host Adam's parents and his brother's family for our annual Christmas gathering. We convened at 2 and began by recognizing Brady's recent birthday with a cute snowman cupcake and terrifying sparkler candle that Adam's mom brought. Then we opened presents and dined on ham, salad, green beans, scalloped potatoes, the three types of cookies Abby baked yesterday (she's a kitchen superstar), and more. And, of course, we took our customary photo.

It's a wonderful season, but being surrounded by family and friends makes it truly beautiful. And I am grateful for the memories we're able to create.

December 16

Abby, like her brothers, likes to bake. 

So that's what she did today. She looked up recipes she wanted to try and compiled an extensive list of necessary ingredients, which I mostly acquired before she got home from school. So far, she's made Neapolitan shortbread cookies (pictured) and gingerbread bars drizzled with white chocolate.

I'm thankful for her tasty contributions to our Christmas preparations.

December 15

I picked Abby up from the airport this morning so all of our chicks who can be physically present are back in the nest. And that's a huge blessing. I'm looking forward to spending time with them and watching them interact and eating with them and seeing their faces as they open their Christmas presents. Those are all such wonderful things and I'm already treasuring the new memories we haven't yet made. I am. Because that togetherness is one of the biggest gifts God gave us.

But truthfully, I also feel a bit melancholic because I can't say that all of my chicks are back in the nest. Whenever I see someone write share that sentiment, I feel a dull pain in my chest. Is it envy? Frustration? Or just sadness? I'm not sure. Maybe it's all three. Regardless of the rationale, it is. And in the interest of being authentic, I have to own it.

Missing someone is painful, and I feel Logan's  absence rather acutely this time of year. And I have to give myself space and permission to feel the way I do because his existence mattered. And it still does matter, even though he hasn't been in family pictures like this one for nearly 12 years. And that's so, so hard.

But tonight, as I drift toward sleep, I feel a sense of gratitude for the three chicks who are under my roof. And I remember the one who is safely tucked under the shadow of Jesus' wing (or, probably more accurately, dancing around in Heaven like a banshee). I am thankful for all of them and for how they've all added innumerable blessings to my life. And I'm grateful for the memories of what once was and for the promise of what will be some day.

December 14

My caboose is officially a teenager.

Yep. My last baby, my Brady, is 13.

Since it was a school day there wasn't a lot of time for celebrating, but we squeezed in the usual Wight Birthday Traditions nonetheless. I baked and decorated his chocolate-on-chocolate cake this afternoon and when he got home, Isaac joined him out front to toss around the football in the street.

When Adam returned from work we went to dinner at CPK, where the birthday boy enjoyed a pepperoni pizza and strawberry lemonade. Then after we finished up there, we video called Abby so she could watch the opening of the presents and join in on the birthday song and cake festivities. And just before he headed up to bed, we measured him, so I can say with certainty that he's currently 5-foot-5 1/2. Several inches shorter than Isaac was at the same age (much to his chagrin) but still growing. And I, of course, am deeply thankful for that.

All in all, I think he had a good day. I did, too, although I'm still not sure how I feel about graduating from the 0-12 club. It's hard to believe that my baby is already a teenager because I can so clearly remember Logan excitedly chirping about how the baby was coming as I packed up to head to the hospital 13 years ago this morning. If that small detail is still so clear and salient and real in my mind, how could 13 years have already gone by? It's crazy. 

But it's good. Brady is funny and smart and witty beyond his years and fierce and competitive and determined and perfectionistic. He's also sweet and sensitive and I'm routinely surprised by the subtle, natural way he's able to share his faith with his pals. I'm grateful for all of those things and for the humor and twerking (yep) and goofiness that he brings to my life every day. He's the perfect youngest child for us now, just as he was way back then when we --when I-- desperately needed him to be a light in what felt like the blackest darkness possible. He was and is an amazing blessing.

Happy birthday, Brady! I love you.

December 13

It continues to be a busy week at our house. But I'll punch through the general busy-ness to focus on two things from today.

This morning, I enjoyed my last Starbucks date with Brady as a 12-year old. (He turns 13 tomorrow. The insanity of that phrase is thick.) I hadn't given it much thought, but it did dawn on me rather suddenly this afternoon that I'm down to my final hours of having not just Brady but any child in the 12-and-under age range. After 19-plus years of having a kid in that group, I'll wake up in the morning with nothing but teenagers. I'm so grateful that they're all continuing to grow, but it feels like new territory to me and I've yet to tease out exactly how I feel about it. I have no doubt that it's good, but it's also weird.

The second "thing" from today was Isaac's continued industriousness in the kitchen. He was in a good mood when he got home from school and in short order announced that he wanted to make bread. Never mind that he'd never dealt with yeast before (and had absolutely zero experience with making dough). I shrugged and gave my approval, and he searched up a recipe online and proceeded to bake two loaves of bread. (And he cleaned up the mess.) And the piece that I tasted when they were fresh from the oven was good! I feel so blessed that he has interests like cooking and baking because I know they'll serve him (and others) well in the future.

December 12

Isaac's been fighting a cold this week, so when he asked if he could stay home from school this morning, I said okay under two conditions: one, no video games. And two, he had to study for his upcoming math final. He said okay.

And he kept his word.

When I got home from running errands, I found him camped out at the dining room table, pencil in hand, plugging away at a math problem. And remarkably, his phone was nowhere to be seen.

I feel blessed that I can trust him, because I know that's not always the case with teenagers. 

December 11

A number of years back, I feasted on Hallmark Christmas movies. Between Halloween and December 25, they're all I'd watch on TV.

Since I was so fully immersed in those highly formulaic feel-good flicks (or "holiday cheese," as Adam called them) for so long, I eventually got tired of them. 

But there's still something nice and familiar about tuning in to catch one every now and then. It's like visiting old friends. So for that sense of sweet nostalgia and connection right here in my family room, I'm grateful.

December 10

When I got to church this morning, this photo was front and center on the Christmas tree next to the amazing wooden hearth one of our congregants made.

The idea is for the tree to be adorned with photos of our church family this year, and I think it's so nice that one of the first ones to go up was of our youth group (or at least the members who were present for last week's Christmas party). 

It's a fairly small group, but it's a pleasure and a blessing to have them with us. They are, after all, the future.

December 9

The washing machine and I had quite the adventure today.

See, a few months ago, I became aware that front loader washing machines --like ours-- have filters that need to be cleaned on a fairly regular basis. After learning this and subsequently noting that our laundry never smelled especially fresh following routine cleanings, I googled and found a video of a guy cleaning out the filter on our exact model, which was a complete blessing. I have no idea who he is, but huge kudos to Dude Who Posted Filter Cleaning Video.

Anyway, after puttering around for a while and drinking my coffee, I decided today would be THE day: I'd peel off the sticker on the filter compartment (because apparently the previous owner also didn't realize it needed to be cleaned) and get the job done. I gathered up a mask (because I had no idea what I'd find in there and I'm deathly allergic to mold), a bowl (to catch any water as it escaped), and a handful of paper towels. I popped open the compartment, loosened the filter, and gently tugged at it... and as it dislodged, the most disgusting, horrible smelling "water" (if you can even call it that) poured out into the bowl and onto the floor, nearly missing me. Already fully horrified, I surveyed the filter, and found that it was coated with equally disgusting mushy mucky-muck (and hair and tiny branches. I have no idea where the wee branches came from but there they were). I gagged a few times behind my mask at both the smell and the sight, and then got over myself and got to work mopping up the "water" with a bath sheet. After deciding that the filter itself was too gross to touch, I took it into the backyard (along with the bowl) and blasted both with the hose. Then I dried off the filter and headed back to the laundry room. Quite pleased with myself, I popped it back into its slot, closed the compartment door, and started the previously-loaded machine. 

A few minutes later I thought "hey, I should go take a pic of the washing machine so I can use it's-a-blessing-that-God-somehow-prompted-this-random-dude-to-make-a-great-video-of-cleaning-out-his-washing-machine-filter-so I-could-clean-out-ours-too entry in my blog today" so headed back to the laundry room....

Where to my horror, I found water pouring from the bottom of the machine. Cascading down the sides in elegant rivulets that pooled out onto the floor. I squeaked "oh no oh no oh no. Help!" a few times as I frantically grabbed more towels from the hall closet and threw them at the water (because clearly that was going to make it stop). Isaac appeared in the doorway and asked what happened, so I told him to get towels and sop up the water. While he did that, I popped the filter compartment open and discovered my error: I hadn't pushed it in far enough. So as fast as I could, I turned and pushed until suddenly, the water stopped flowing. And all was better as Isaac and I sopped and sopped until we had a pile of very wet towels in the corner. I wasn't exactly thrilled with my gaffe, but mused to Isaac that at least the soapy water meant that we'd successfully cleaned the floor, which hadn't been done in some time. So I was grateful for both his help and for the unexpectedly freshly cleaned tile.

I turned the machine back on again, confirmed that it was no longer leaking, and started to head back downstairs, but then I noticed that the plastic pan in which the washer and dryer sit were filled with water. I groaned at the thought of how many MORE towels it would take to mop up THAT mess, so I pulled out my phone and texted my neighborhood group to ask if anyone had a wet vac or sump pump I could borrow. My amazing neighbors across the street offered theirs up almost immediately, and even though it was the oldest shop vac I'd ever laid eyes on and it had no attachments and turned on the second it was plugged in, it worked like a charm. And I am so thankful that they let me use it.

So yes: it was quite the adventure. And the day definitely would've been much calmer had none of it happened. But the weird thing is, I'm kind of glad it did, because I got to experience so many blessings along the way: there was the blessing of the instructional video which led to the blessing of fresher laundry, the blessing of Isaac helping me clean up, the blessing of my well-timed trip to the laundry room that led me to discover my mistake in time to save the hall carpet, the blessing of the clean floor, and the blessing of Mary and Brian so graciously lending me their wet vac.

So many blessings out of an otherwise frustrating situation. It made me remember to look for the good that will indubitably arise from the not-so-good.

December 8

I'm not entirely sure why, but Isaac and Brady decided to dance in the kitchen after dinner.

It was mostly Isaac spinning Brady in circles, but it was loud and raucous and my sensitive ears aside, it was also pretty darn amusing. 

I love these boys and I'm thankful for how they provide complimentary entertainment --even if I admittedly don't always see it that way-- every day.

December 7

This isn't really about toothpaste. 

I was standing in the oral care aisle at Walmart this morning mulling the options and scanning my numerous rebate apps for the best deal when a middle-aged African American man walked by with a cart. A moment later he reversed course and entered my aisle. He smiled and thanked me for being there because if he hadn't seen me, he would've forgotten that he needed Listerine. He wanted the BIG bottle so I helped him find it. And then he grinned, wished me a happy holiday, and went along his way. That's tale number one.

The second story begins a few minutes later as I traversed the women's clothing section. I passed a woman who was wearing a lovely woven wrap and paused to admire the piece. She smiled and thanked me and told me exactly where she'd gotten it. I thanked her and then we parted ways with a cheery 'happy holidays.'

Our third and final tale comes from a few minutes after tale number two. I was in the men's clothing section perusing the racks for a pair of 28-30 (aka Small) pants for Brady when I noticed a man talking to himself as he scanned a shelf of undershirts. He bemoaned the lack of extra-large product, and I suggested he check every peg just in case. And then we both chuckled over the notion that someone would hide a pack of extra large white t-shirts. Then I found the pants I wanted and wished him a happy holiday. He paused, smiled, and replied with a healthy measure of enthusiasm, 'yeah, happy holidays to you too!'

By now you're probably wondering why I'm sharing these vignettes because I get it: random. So here's why: I'm not the world's most patient person. I rarely say what I'm thinking, but I'm definitely thinking SOMEthing more often than not, especially when someone does something that I seem to be stupid or ill-advised. And I don't think I'm alone in that. But today, these three run-of-the-mill interactions with three people I didn't know reminded me that underneath the challenges of daily life, most people want to be and do good; we want to have pleasant interactions with strangers and to share the joy of the season in simple, cost-free ways. So for that realization brought to life in an unlikely place, I'm grateful.

December 6

It rained a bit this afternoon, which was a blessing since we get so little precipitation and the earth was no doubt thirsty for moisture.

And then after the rain ended, a rainbow appeared. I spotted it as I drove from Brady's school to Isaac's pick-up spot and snapped a quick pic after I'd slipped the car into park.

That visible and beautiful reminder of one of God's promises to us was good for my heart. Things may not always go the way we would like, but God is always with us nonetheless.

December 5

These two cuties live on the family room couch right now. (I put them in front of the tree temporarily for their photoshoot to maximize their already-obvious seasonal significance.)

I like soft, comfortable things like Squishmallows. (Seriously, they make the best pillows.) I also like things that are cute. So it makes me smile to look across the room and see Jordan the gingerbread boy and Carol the Christmas tree smiling back at me.

They're small things for sure, but they make me smile. And I am grateful for the grins because smile lines are much better than frown-induced wrinkles.

(And PS, Abby, this one's for you.)

December 4

My favorite older brother turned 50 today. The big 5-0. He's officially a half-centenarian.

Bobby and his family live back in Maryland so I didn't actually see him for his milestone birthday, but we exchanged messages and I scoured my image files for some good throwbacks to share. So here they are!

He and I are a little more than four years apart in age. However, we were five years apart in school, so we were never really in the same school at the same time. We also had different interests, different musical taste, and different friends, so we didn't spend much time hanging out, save a single double date to Fuddruckers with our then-significant others when I was a senior in high school. 

As we've gotten older, though, the differences diminished and the commonalities surfaced, and I've realized that despite what I'd always thought, we're actually quite a lot alike. We still don't talk a lot, but I know that if I needed something, I could call on him. And I'm grateful for that. And I'm grateful for 50 years of my big brother.

December 3

Isaac did the scripture reading at church this morning.

He strode up to the front, took the mic, said "hello" in a whimsical tone that drew a smile from me and amusement from some members of the congregation, and read what was a rather long excerpt from 2 Corinthians.

It didn't take long, but I was so proud of him for getting up there and doing it. And I was so heartened to hear the conviction in his voice as, upon finishing the reading, he confidently declared "THIS is the Word of God." 

He's a good kid. And I am a blessed mom.

December 2

Isaac announced this afternoon that he was going to clean out the little pond in the backyard, so despite the overcast sky and chilly temp, he donned shorts and a t-shirt and got to work.

I could see him from my seat in the family room, so I watched as he waded into the water and then scooped handful after handful of muckity-muck into the green waste bin. He used both his bare hands and an old pool net to remove the funk, scrubbed down the rocks, and then re-filled the empty space with fresh water. Although Adam and Brady joined him during the latter part of the process, it was entirely his idea, and he put a lot of time and muscle into the task. (Also he looks like such a man in this image that it makes my mama heart say 'what?! Where is my Buzz Lightyear-loving chunker?' Times flies.)

I don't know what prompted him to do it because he'd never tackled the task before and he certainly didn't have to, but it was such a blessing that he did. Isaac has a servant's heart, and I am thankful for him every day. 

December 1

I was scrolling through my phone contacts yesterday while I waited for the bell to ring at Brady's school when I came across my old friend Jamie's name. I hadn't talked to her in a number of years, and the last time we did connect, it wasn't an awesome interaction. Not bad, per se, but uncomfortable because both of us were in what I'd call weird places in our lives.

But since we were good friends back when our youngest boys were in preschool together, I figured I'd drop her a quick text to say hi and wish her well. And I left it at that.

Then today, about 24 hours after I sent that text, I got a reply. Instead of responding to the text, I decided to call her right then and there. And I'm so glad I did because it was so, so good to hear her voice and to find out how God has moved in her life since we last talked. (In a nutshell, mightily!)

So today I am thankful for the blessing of  reconnection with old friends. And for the truth that God can breathe new life into long-dormant --and sometimes even dead-- relationships.