December 31

Way back when I was younger, I remember older, wiser folks waxing poetic on the passage of time. They told me that although our younger years seem to drag on at times --especially as we eagerly stretch our arms toward milestones that often seem frustratingly out of reach-- those days speed up as the years pass by. Although I'm still not particularly wise (nor old), I now agree with that observation because wow, how is it already New Year's Eve? Didn't I just now start remembering to write 2024 instead of 2023 on the paper checks I very occasionally write out? (The sad answer: yes.) Craziness. All craziness.

(Since I need a photo here, I'm using one of my girl and I --and Adam-- during our morning trip to Costco. It's always good to be out trolling the aisles with my peeps.)

 

It was a largely quiet and mostly uneventful year that was marked by mostly gentle ups and downs. A definitive down was saying goodbye to my grandma --my last remaining grandparent-- in February. But an upswing followed as we ventured back to Maryland to celebrate her remarkable life in May. Reconnecting --and laughing and eating ice cream and taking crazy group selfies-- with so much of my extended family was a huge blessing. I miss her and always will, but sharing stories of her love for all of us and for Jesus was good for my heart.

There was also plenty of baseball which provided social connection and many lessons about patience, and time with Adam's parents on beautiful Kaua'i in June. In July, Adam's dad and all six of his siblings (and some of their kids) gathered to celebrate his grandmother's birthday, and it was good that we did, because she --Adam's last remaining grandparent-- passed away on Halloween. November saw us fly back to Chicagoland to spend time with Abby (and watch her cheer at a football game -- go Thunder!) at Wheaton. And that was it for the travel log.

On the personal front, I continued on as an Elder at church; I don't think I'm particularly good at it, but I'm aiming to do the best I can in that role in 2025. I also crocheted a lot, both for the Prayer Shawl Ministry and to meet my own creative needs. (And I was rewarded with a great showing at the fair back home!)

Socially I continued last year's trend of lying low; I regularly connected with Terry and my other pals at the Mother Ship, had a few meet-ups with Nikki, saw my wonderful EGG girls for dinner, and attended Valerie's latest cookie party (which was a complete blast as always), but otherwise, my interactions with friends were limited. I'm not entirely sure why that is because I was once desperate to have a big group of sister-like friends I could rely on, but I think it stems from knowing --and truly believing-- that God will provide for me when I have a real need. My life is far from perfect --I miss my sweet Logan every single day-- but it's good and I'm blessed. I'm content hanging out at home with my husband and my amazing kids and I have no desire to chase anyone or force friendships. I guess that's one of the advantages of aging: finding genuine contentment in the way things are Right Now, regardless of the precise circumstances. I'm happy to have reached that particular Checkpoint of Adult Life.

So yes, that's my 2024 in a nutshell. It was a good year, and I'm thankful for the moments and the blessings and the ways that God further revealed Himself to me as the months passed by. Now... onto 2025.

December 30

Abby and I did some post-Christmas shopping this morning, but it was an otherwise quiet day.

At some random point this evening, after the 49ers game ended, Abby and Brady ended up sharing a chair. Said-recliner is absolutely built for a single occupant, but somehow they made it work. (I had to sneak this picture because Brady got up every other time I tried to take one.)

Anyway, it was a nice reminder that even seemingly uncomfortable situations and experiences --like sharing a too-small seat with your sibling-- can yield a measure of comfort if we're open to them.

December 29

I was feeling congested when I woke up this morning so I almost opted out of going to church. But after a few minutes of mulling the decision, I decided to go.

And if I hadn't, I would've missed out on seeing the absolutely spectacular rainbow that stretched out over the valley during the drive.

It may not seem like it most of the time, but small choices can sometimes lead to big blessings. So say yes to those opportunities that God gives you.

December 28

I was just chillin' in the bedroom this evening after dinner --half watching a football game and half crocheting-- when these two goofballs appeared outside my door.

I had a few different thoughts as I approached them to say goodnight. The first was "wow, did Isaac carry Brady up the partial flight of stairs like that?!" followed by "it's a good thing he didn't smack his head on the chandelier" (because it was right.there).

But the biggest, loudest thought was "goodness, when did they get so huge?"

I still haven't figured that last one out, but I'm thankful that they're still growing. And that they still make me (and each other) laugh with their antics.

December 27

Today we drove into the city to see the San Francisco Ballet's production of The Nutcracker at the War Memorial Opera House. Abby went once with Adam's mom a number of years ago, but was eager to see it again through her now-adult eyes, so the tickets were her big Christmas present. (Brady in particular was thrilled when he found out that we'd all be attending.)

It was, in a nut(cracker)shell, a lovely performance and most of us enjoyed it. (During intermission, Brady said that he'd rather be in school. Isaac disagreed, although when Abby posed the question he drew the line at performing as the Rat King and said he'd rather go to school than do that.)

I danced for a long time, but my jam and focus was tap. I was never much for ballet because I'm simply not gifted with a lot of natural fluidity of movement (or grace). As someone who routinely trips on sidewalk cracks and occasionally on nothing at all, it's awe-inspiring to see those who do have the gift of movement. So I'm grateful to have had the chance to watch so many talented dancers at work today.

And beyond that, I'm grateful for a lovely Friday with my people. I'm grateful for the peaceful ride into the city, and for the fact that they all posed so nicely for a photo, and for the relaxed dinner we enjoyed at Mexico Lindo once we got back into town and for the silly conversation about our noses that transpired over our tacos and burritos and quesadillas. And I'm grateful for how, on the way home, they sat in the backseat of the Explorer looking at and cackling over their own baby pictures. It was a hilarious, beautiful, cream filling kind of day. 

(PS -- I'm wearing two-inch heels in the pic. I am short. And I'm grateful for that, too.)

December 26

As of today, two of our kids are fully licensed drivers. That's right: Isaac took and passed his road test this afternoon. 

He was sad when, back in April, he didn't pass the written test on the first try. (At least he was sad until we looked up the failure rate and discovered it was over 50%. That made him feel a little better.) It took him quite a while --well into June, after he'd turned 16-- to get up the courage to try again. And fortunately, he passed on attempt number two.  Since then he's become a genuinely good driver, so I hoped he'd pass the road test on the first go-round. 

So Adam took him to the DMV this afternoon and when the appointed time arrived, I held my breath and prayed that he'd keep calm --because he was very nervous when they left-- and just do what he can do. 

And he did. And he passed with very few mistakes. (I think he said you can have as many as 15. He had four.) He was very humble about having passed when he got home and tried to resist my photo-taking impulse, but I insisted. So here's the official My Kid Got His License photo.

He's growing up. And like I've said before, I'm very proud of the man he's becoming. And I'm very thankful that God chose me to help shepherd him into adulthood.

December 25

Christmas is one of my very favorite days of the year. I love just about everything about it: the friendly greetings, the downtime with family, the food, the memories of Christmases past, the warmth that feels like an inherent trait of the day. And of course, the underlying, underpinning remembrance of Jesus' birth and all that it means for us today. Always that.

And it was indeed a good day that lived up to the usual hype I create for it in my head. Abby, Isaac, and Brady trooped into our bedroom at a little after 8 AM to rouse me from my slumber. I puttered out to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee and snag a cinnamon roll, and then joined the fam in the living room to open stockings and, afterward, gifts.

There were many photos taken --including a re-do of last year's epic kitchen pic featuring Isaac's sassy leg-- and laughs shared, and after the last bit of wrapping paper was disposed of, the boys settled down to play video games while Abby headed to her room and Adam and I took a stroll around the neighborhood. (It's hard to tell from the way I cropped the photo, but I wore my pink Hello Kitty onesie during our walk. Both Isaac and Abby seemed to question the decision and at least one dog was puzzled and barked frenetically at my pinkness, but I dug it. And it was perfect for the 50ish degree temp.) 

A little later on, I watched the Ravens manhandle the Texans, prepped pot roast for dinner, and nodded off for a nap in my family room chair. The roast and all of its veggie friends came out well and we enjoyed our meal in the dining room followed by a round of Doomlings, a new card game I gave Adam, before the day came to a close.

Yes, it was a good day; a day rife with the blessings of family and love and laughter and togetherness. I miss my Logan, of course; I always will. And I miss my extended family, who gathered today on the east coast. But despite what and who I miss, I'm deeply grateful for all that I have. And I am grateful that Jesus' birth means that some day, all will eventually be made right.

December 24

It was a beautiful Christmas Eve. Isaac and I ventured out this morning so he could buy the last gift he needed and in the process, had his first experience driving in pouring rain. 

He aced both the gift-selecting and the road-navigating, and did so with a significant pep in his step and a big smile on his face. And at our last stop, we were rewarded with a huge rainbow that spanned across the sky (and reflected in the puddles in the parking lot). 

Then this evening, after Adam finished baking a new batch of cookies for Santa, we went off to church, and afterward returned home and enjoyed chicken parmesan for dinner.

And now Adam and I are watching "Comfort and Joy" in the family room and gearing up for Santa's visit. The stockings and hung and the tree is lit. 

And as Christmas nears, I am grateful for the birth of Jesus all those years ago. Because that sweet baby changed everything.

December 23

Today was a chill one; Brady had an appointment (as braces are in his future) and there was some late-in-the-game shopping done by some unnamed (male) parties. 

And, naturally, there was a Mario Kart tournament played in my Pretty Room by these three amazing human beings.

Everyday, (mostly) quiet times with these three and my hunny, just living life and doing mundane things, are the best times of all.

December 22

Late this afternoon we drove up to Lafayette for our Christmas celebration with Adam's parents and his brother's family.

We did a quick nod to Brady's birthday with a (literal) donut as a cake and a few gifts, and then we built and baked our own pizzas for dinner. And then it was on to presents --with Theo serving as Santa-- and Christmas cookie consumption. 

We've taken a variation of this group photo for a number of years now; it's become such a fixture that I've grown accustomed to bringing my tripod along to make it easier to capture.

It's such a blessing to look at the series of images and be able to track how we've all grown and changed over time. (And by "all" I mean "the kids," because the adults all look the same. Exactly the same.) There is always pain that in the reality that Logan is missing, but little pieces of him are there in each of these faces; in each of these people who share family ties with him -- even the ones who were born after he went home to Heaven. And for that truth, I am grateful. 

December 21

Every year for as long as I can remember, we've spent part of an evening driving around and looking at Christmas lights.

Tonight was the night. After Isaac finished his third (and final!) driving lesson, we loaded into Charles the Explorer and headed out. We checked out a selection of displays here in the valley, and stopped partway through for dinner from the Wendy's drive-thru. (I had no idea that Son of Baconator was a thing but apparently it is. Go figure.)

Anyway, we saw a mix of old favorites and new offerings, and it was a peaceful outing. All in all, it seemed like there were more lights than usual this year, and in particular, more joint efforts across multiple neighbors. The latter surprised me, given how divided we all seem to be these days, but it also gave me hope for the future. If we can find common ground in Christmas lights, maybe we can find it in other places, too.

December 20

And just like that, the first semester is over. Abby is three semesters from finishing her Bachelor's degree in English writing. Isaac is three semesters from high school graduation. Brady is one semester from starting high school. And Logan... well, Logan is perpetually five and a half years old and always in and on my heart, especially now as I take the time to look back at photos from Christmases past and remember how much joy he brought into my life. How. I. Miss. That. Child. How I wish that chapter of my story played out differently.

But I suppose that missing him makes me appreciate the present a bit more, so here's a photo of the rest of us from today during our usual end-of-semester post-school lunch outing to Mountain Mike's. 

It was, all in all, a successful semester for these three. The grades were (mostly) solid, but the continued personal growth and development for each of them has been outstanding. 

I've said it numerous times before, but I'm so very proud of them. I'm proud of how they tackle tasks (even ones they'd rather avoid), and I'm more proud of how they conduct themselves. And I'm most proud of how they love each other and their friends. They are blessings.

December 19

The cold I have is kicking my bum a bit, so I laid as low as I could this afternoon and fortunately felt a little better following a nap.

And then this evening, Abby got home from school for Winter Break! There was much enthusiastic merrymaking upon her arrival; Isaac was up in the shower, but Brady danced around the kitchen. A few minutes later, I caught them hugging with no adult provocation. And then when Isaac came down, he was wearing the Cheer Fan Shirt she brought back for him. The mood was frenetic and upbeat.

And they all complied when I told them I wanted a picture.

So for this scene right here --for these amazing young people I am so humbled to call my kiddos-- I am so grateful.

December 18

It was a chilly day for December in Northern California; the kind of cool that seeps underneath layers of clothing. The kind of cool that I'm more likely to associate with Maryland than here.

I'm currently dealing with a cold that one of my sweet boys shared with me earlier this week so I tried to lie low this afternoon, but I couldn't help but notice this classic Winter (well, almost Winter) sky as I looked out the window this evening.

It "looks" cold (if that makes sense), but it's still pretty. And I'm grateful for some loveliness when I'm feeling under the weather.

December 17

I own a lot of Christmas ornaments. Old ones, news ones, mass-produced ones, homemade ones, big ones, little ones, loud ones, quiet ones, sturdy ones, delicate ones. 

But my absolute favorites are are the ones that my kids made, and the ones that I (or Adam) created via Shutterfly that feature photos of our family over the years.

Last week I began decorating our family room tree with just those special pieces, and I've started to silently refer to it as our Family Tree. I smile every time I walk by it and see Logan's face peeking out from behind a branch, and I laugh when I see the big group photo of my side of the family at my brother's house in 2021. 

They're good memories, and I'm blessed that I can literally just turn my head and look at them right now.

December 16

Brady went over to Jackson's house to work out this afternoon (because that's what they do these days) and then afterward, they went for a bike ride.

At one point he texted to tell me to look out the window, so I did. And I saw him ride by on his bike. He had a big grin on his face and I could tell from his posture that he was having fun -- a lot of fun, really.

I feel a bit bad that he didn't have a bicycle earlier; bike-riding was, after all, a huge part of my growing-up years. We'd ride up and down the path behind our house --which was known as The Cobra for its succession of rises and falls-- and up and down the street and around the lake. Everywhere. I think we practically lived on our bikes during those summer months when I was around his age.

But lateness aside, I'm so grateful and glad that he's enjoying it and that he's having those experiences now. It's a gift to watch him have fun, and to know that it's an activity that he can enjoys with his pals.

December 15

Brady needed a helmet in order to use his bike (slight oversight on my part) so he and I headed over to Dick's after church to buy one.

While we were out and about, I stopped at Target (purely because it's Target and Target is wonderful). On the way back out to the car, Brady mentioned that he remembered sitting on the big red dots outside when he was a little kid. So I told him he should sit on one right then and there, and he did without hesitation. At 5-9 1/2 (his height when we measured him last night), the task was much easier than it was way back then, but it was still kinda fun to see him sitting there.

Sweet, unexpected little moments that trigger nostalgic memories are blessings. (As are kids who humor me when I ask them to do silly things just for old times' sake.)

December 14

Today is Brady's 14th birthday.

It's absolutely insane to me that my baby --that cute little blonde-haired toddler who once flashed a huge cheeser grin for me while standing in a wagon-- is already 14. But here we are.

It was --I think, anyway-- a good day for our youngest. When I finally arose after 9, he announced --with an impressive degree of frenetic energy-- that he'd already been up for eight hours, courtesy of both the rollicking wind-and-thunderstorm that rolled through overnight and some unfortunate nasal congestion. 

He plowed through a Krispy Kreme donut and an alarming number of turkey sausages for breakfast before returning to his room for some video game time. Lunch was --after much consideration-- French toast sticks (because he loves French toast in any form) from Jack in the Box, which he ate while Adam fired up the throwback mini Atari system I gave him last year for Christmas. Brady and Isaac found the joystick controllers... what was the word? "So ridiculously low-tech," I think they said. I was amused.

Dinner was at the Cheesecake Factory, and then Abby joined us via video call for chocolate-chocolate cake with mint ice cream and presents. The big gift --which was the unnamed "secret mission" I referenced in yesterday's entry-- was a bike (and not an e-bike; an old-school bike-bike), which Adam and Isaac impressively hauled up from the garage and plunked down in front of him in the family room. He's looking forward to riding with his pals.

I think that last line is the part of him being 14 that's strangest to me: he's looking forward to riding with his pals. To being out and about and free. He's always had friends, but him spending significant amounts of time out with them (and on the phone with them) is new. It's a good thing, of course, because good friends are a blessing and I think his friends are good kids. But it's also weird because he's my baby. And he's growing up and going out without me. I'm not entirely sure how to process that truth just yet. But I'm getting there.

Anyway, that was his day. My mixed feelings about him growing up aside, I'm so proud of who he is and feel so blessed to be his mom. He's intelligent and incredibly funny (when the mood strikes) and sensitive, even if he doesn't often let that last part show. He works hard and always wants to do well, so much so that I'm regularly reminding him that it's okay to be imperfect, because Jesus was the only perfect person who's ever walked the earth. My prayer for him is that he will know what a treasure he truly is and has been since the moment I found out he was on his way.

Happy 14 on the 14th, Brady! I love you.

December 13

I had a secret mission downtown this evening and took Isaac along for the ride. (And to help. I know it looks suspect but he's just stretching in the photo.)

Since it's a Friday night AND since it's the Christmas season, downtown was bustling and I worried that parking would be a challenge. We passed by our destination and then a moment later, a car signaled to exit its parallel parking space just in front of me. So I slipped right in, just like that.

I needed that spot in order to accomplish my mission, so I'm grateful to God that it became available at the precise moment it did. It was a small thing, but a very helpful blessing.

December 12

I was crocheting in my room earlier this evening when Isaac sauntered in (because Isaac often saunters) and sat down on the bed.

After a minute or two of silence, he began asking questions about my side of the family. How old was I when my parents got divorced? What was Uncle Bobby like when we were growing up? Was I closer to him or to Uncle Charlie? I answered his questions and then he went silent again.

And then he pulled out his phone, went to the family tree wiki (which I didn't even know existed), and began mapping out Adam's dad's lineage. And he shared his findings as he went along.

I love this kid. I'm grateful that he's interested in his family history. And I'm more grateful that at 16 --when so many kiddos actively avoid their parental units-- he's willing to plunk down on my bed with me and just hang out. That's a pretty cool blessing.

December 11

I crocheted a light blue poncho out of a few skeins of beautiful bamboo yarn earlier this year. I've never been a big poncho girl, but I decided I like this one enough to keep it. I told myself it'd look cute over a plain white shirt or lightweight sweater, but since I didn't own one of those, it's been living on a hanger in my closet.

And today, while I was at Costco looking for something else entirely, I happened to walk by a table that promised v-neck sweaters for $6.97. I immediately thought of my poncho and then noticed the all-caps additional text on the sign --NO SMALL OR MEDIUM-- and started to walk away. 

But then I saw this --an errant Medium, just the size that I wanted-- sitting atop the pile. I scooped it up and checked out (and yes, when I got home I tried it on and it will work well).

Anyway, to my point: God wants us to be grateful for the big gifts He gives us; for our health and our families and our friends and our homes and our jobs. That's a given. But He also wants us to be grateful for the very small things, like a Medium-sized sweater that pairs well with a handmade poncho. And I am.

December 10

I have to tell y'all: God always comes through when I'm feeling discouraged. It may take a while and I may not find the inspiration I need in the places I expect to find it, but He always gets His message across. And sometimes He gets those messages across in rapid-fire style.

So with that little preamble out there, I'll share about three unexpected God-infused interactions that I had during my visit to the Mother Ship this morning.

Interaction number one was with a lovely young mom and her almost one-year old son. Jocelyn sat across from me in one of the comfy chairs in the corner and attempted to give her baby a bottle, but he was far too interested in staring at me to eat. So she and I chatted. I complimented his rapt attention and focus and she told me about how they're going to go to Mexico --where she's from-- to have him baptized for his first birthday later this month because she's so grateful that he's alive. Because,  she told me, he was born two months early and spent six weeks in the NICU at --wait for it-- CHO. Where we spent so much time with our sweet Logan. So I in turn shared a bit about him and us and we commiserated over how utterly exhausting Hospital Life is and over the trauma that lingers even after The Stay ends. And I assured her that one day, when the time is ready, God will use her experience to help someone else through a hard time. And then, before she left, she complimented my work in progress, which I'd pulled out to show her after noticing the lovely, soft handmade blanket that was wrapped around her son.

Exchange number two followed not long after number one as a woman I'd never met got my attention to tell me how pretty my work was. I thanked her, and she smiled and asked if I, like her, have multiple projects going on at once. We had a very brief but pleasant interaction and then she headed out.

The final exchange involved my friend Rob, whose wife passed away earlier this year. He's a very open kind of guy, and told me that although he was feeling good today, yesterday was a different story. And he expressed frustration over how he'll be feeling fine but then, out of the blue, the tears will come for no discernible reason. I nodded and listened and teared up more than once, because oh, my heart. I do so understand. And then I assured him that even though I know he feels like he must be crazy, he's not. And I told him that when he feels the negative thoughts press in on him, to tell the Devil "not today." He liked that and said he'd try it. And I told him to just keep on trying, even when it feels like it's not working or when it's hard. When he left, he gave me a big hug. 

So what made all of these exchanges so remarkable? Well for one, none of these people knew it, but I've been wondering if I'm just wasting time crocheting and if anyone would really want anything I make. So those unanticipated compliments meant something. And for another, I've been thinking of Logan a lot lately and lamenting that things didn't go differently for us. But being able to use my experience to encourage others means a lot to me because it makes his death feel just a little less pointless. 

So yes, I'd say God showed up today for me in tangible, real ways, through multiple people. And I am grateful.

December 9

I did a little bit of decorating in the dining room yesterday while Brady was at a friend's house and Adam and Isaac were at the bookstore.

I didn't really pause to look at my work until this evening, after Isaac had settled in behind my snowy scene to do homework.

When I finally took a gander, I was pleased with what I saw. It doesn't get cold enough to snow here, but I remember how beautiful the white stuff can be when it's freshly fallen and glimmering under the soft glow of street lights.

And this little Lego scene arranged on a bed of glittering white "snow" (also known as a sparkle-threaded pair of table runners I picked up from Hobby Lobby on super sale after Christmas last year) helps me to recall and connect with those old, nostalgic feelings. So for the gift of small things that point to joyful times from my yesterdays, I am grateful.

December 8

During the season of Advent --the weeks leading up to the birth of Christ on Christmas Day-- our church does what many others do and has various members of the congregation light the candles on the advent wreath each Sunday.

This morning an absolutely precious little family --a dad and his three young children-- took care of the task. Each of the children took part in the reading and the eldest daughter lit the candles. And I, for a reason I can't quite put my finger on, was nearly overcome by emotion by the sight.

Maybe it was because they reminded me of the life with multiple small, wiggly children that was once mine. Or maybe it was because Jesus said to let the little children come to Him, and that's what they were doing. 

But regardless of the precise explanation for my reaction, I'm grateful for the experience, because it was beautiful in the purest way possible.

December 7

This afternoon we drove (or maybe I should say "Isaac drove us") up to Lafayette so we could help Adam's parents decorate their Christmas tree. 

And we --along with said-in-laws and Adam's brother's family-- did indeed adorn their very (very) tall tree with an array of ornaments while we chit-chatted and munched on cookies and popcorn.

And then at one point, as the decorating action was winding down, Isaac, Theo, and Melody decided to stack themselves on a chair by the fireplace. A moment later, Brady and Asher joined in. And unsurprisingly, hilarity ensued.

While it's a bummer that our kids didn't get to grow up geographically close their cousins on my side (especially since they get along so, so well when they are together), I'm glad that Theo, Asher, and Melody are nearby. Family can be complicated sometimes, but it's definitely a blessing, too.

December 6

I very nearly forgot about the Christmas tea at church this morning. And then a couple of guys from church walked by me as I sat in my spot at the Mother Ship and --zap!-- I suddenly remembered.

And I'm so glad that I did. 

I got to eat this yummy slice of cake (and a mini peanut butter cup) and drink tea, of course. And I got to play a few games (and win a few prizes). And I got to listen to speakers share wisdom about the season and its rich meaning.

But I also got to sit next to an absolutely precious three-month old baby. I'm not posting his picture out of respect for his mama's feelings about social media, but he's seriously one of the cutest babies ever. He was so expressive and quiet and darling that it was impossible to not smile at his little coos and fleeting smiles.

There are many challenges inherent in day to day life, but it is such a blessing to watch a baby as he experiences the world. 

December 5

I sat in my customary corner spot at Starbucks this morning, situated my stuff, took a sip of my coffee, and... aaaah.

There's something amazingly delicious about a fresh, steaming hot cuppa joe doctored up with raw sugar and oat milk to begin a new day. 

It's calming. And I'm thankful to be able to start my days with a moment of relaxation. (And cranberry bliss bars. Those too.)

December 4

I didn't really notice that Isaac and I were twinning today until after he got home from school this afternoon.

So naturally I had to take a pic. 

I bought him this particular shirt on Black Friday, so it was satisfying that he actually wore it. (He's more of an athletic wear kind of kid so I'm never quite sure if button-downs will work.) And it's more satisfying that he didn't immediately change when he realized I was wearing something similar. 

Anyway, it was reminder to me that although we definitely have our differences, we're alike in some notable ways, too. And we can always find common ground.

December 3

Adam and I enjoyed a lovely dinner out at one of our usual spots downtown. (Strizzi's, Abby.)

When we headed back out to the car after we'd taken our last bites of chicken parmesan (me) and lasagna (him) and settled the check, I was struck once again by the loveliness of our little town. It may not snow where we are, but with the winter-themed lights and the soon-to-be-lit Christmas tree that stretches high above Main Street, it's a charming, vaguely old-timey place to call home. 

And I am grateful for that sense of vintage sweetness.

December 2

Brady said grace before dinner tonight.

(This is just a representative image since I didn't take a pic in the moment; here, he's playing a video game with his pal Liam.)

Anyway, at the end of said-prayer, he added something special: "thank you for bringing Abby back to us safely last week."

My heart melted right then and there. 

I am, as is so often the case, touched by his care for her. He may not express it overtly, but I know it's there. And it's such a sweet blessing.

December 1

Abby flew back to Chicago this morning to finish her fall semester at Wheaton. This go-round, the whole fam got up and made the trip to send her off.

But before we left, while they were all milling about the kitchen, the boys wrapped her up in a sweet sibling embrace.

They may not get along every second of every day, but I know they love and appreciate one another. And that no matter what may come, they will have each other's backs. And for that not-small blessing, I am so grateful.