September 8

It's Tuesday so not surprisingly, Adam and I went to dinner while Brady was at Youth Group.

He shared about his day at work and I tried to remember what I bought during my post-Mother Ship shopping trip. (Incidentally, it's amazing and vaguely alarming to realize how bad my recall is at the moment. Yikes. One of the many gifts of being a woman in my late 40s.)

Nothing extraordinary happened but was good to be out with my hunny. So for the gift of that time on a regular old Tuesday night, I am grateful.

(P.S. Those are my new glasses, which I got from Costco last week. I'm grateful for them because my previous pair was very old and the prescription was quite wrong.)

September 7

This is my squish.

He's a knock-off of those dumpling-things that've been so insanely popular for the last several months, and other than being a wee bit stinky, he's a good, reliable squish.

I'm someone who has always had issues with anxiety and although recent years have seen a marked decrease in that area, I still look for practical ways to manage stress. And squishing my squish definitely helps.

So today, I am grateful that God gave someone the idea to create squishies.

September 6

All of the unicorns came down to the kitchen this afternoon, and I had to commemorate the moment.

I love that these two are 21 and 15 and have zero reservations about hanging out with this particular gang of stuffies (and a few others. These are just two of the major players plus BearBear). Although they're not little kids anymore, they still maintain playful personas.

The whole scene makes me smile, and for that not-small gift, I am thankful.

September 5

Brady accompanied Adam and I to Costco this morning.

Actually, he drove us there after we dropped Abby off at the Toyota dealership to pick up her car after its service.

Anyway, when we arrived at the store, he scurried over to get a cart and then proceeded to push it all throughout the trip. There were no arguments and no sassiness and no complaints. 

After we checked out, we enjoyed lunch in the food court, where he sampled (and finished) his first-ever chicken bake. (He was pleased when I informed him that they do indeed sell them boxed in the frozen section. Or at least they used to do that.)

It was a very pleasant time with our baby. So for that --for his willingness to just go with the flow-- I am grateful.

September 4

I engaged in two notable but very different activities today. The first was a coffee meet-up with a woman I met in the parking lot at the Mother Ship nine months ago. (Long story.) Anyway, Margo and I finally got together and we had a lovely two and a half hour chat. I'd use that as my entry today because discussions of faith and of God and how He shows up were definitely part of the conversation, but I didn't take a pic.

So I'm using this --my second activity-- instead. I've been working on this for a few days now. I love lacy patterns that require a little more thought and effort, and this one fits the bill. I'm not entirely sure what it will be just yet, but I like it so far. And I like that as I stitch, I'm more likely to whisper prayers as they come to mind. 

So today, I'm grateful for restful projects and for potential new friendships, because both make this life much more colorful.

September 3

I was taking a walk around the neighborhood this afternoon when I saw this:

Whether or not the little green plant is actually growing out of the garbage can is immaterial; what really struck me is the thought that came to mind as I looked at it.

"Grow where you're planted."

A trash can isn't an ideal place to be planted; after all, it provides no easy source of water or nourishment. Yet somehow, this particular little guy thrived in its humble environment.

So regardless of your situation or circumstances, I challenge you to bloom where you are; to take the blessings God has given you and shine.

September 2

I was crocheting early this evening when Brady appeared and told me that he'd been pitching in the backyard. He then said that he wasn't sure if he was throwing hard or not and his voice trailed off, so I read between the proverbial lines and asked if he wanted me to watch. (He did.) 

So I followed him out the back door and observed as he got set, kicked his leg, and delivered what was a pretty hard pitch at the target. He repeated the process several more times and I confirmed that yes, I thought his velocity was good.

He hasn't thrown all that often of late; he's not currently on a team, school is in session, and Isaac isn't here to play catch. So it was a blessing to see him out there of his own volition, doing his thing. 

My baby is growing up, and I am grateful for the gift of watching that happen.