January 31

We had some wacky weather this afternoon --dark skies intermingled with sunlight, rain, even hail in some places-- that ended with this:

I was standing by the slider when I saw the first drops hit the pavement, and then I heard Adam's voice calling out to me from the other side of the house. I shuffled to where he stood just outside the front door, and he gestured toward the sky where a faint rainbow was just beginning to form. I grabbed my phone and scurried, shoeless, to the front of the house where I found a perch in a lonely dry spot underneath the garage overhang.

I watched as a gentle yet surprisingly heavy mist --because that's what it was, a mist; a beautiful, weepy mist that filled my parched heart to overflowing with its majesty-- coursed from the heavens to the earth in delicate, vertical waves. I watched as the rainbow grew in intensity and color; I marveled over how it arched across the sky, with one end glowing as if to indicate the presence of the fabled pot of gold. I went inside just as the violet faded to lighter purple and the gleaming red became a less remarkable shade of pink. I told Adam about it and then settled in for our evening, watching Minions together and laughing at its silly humor and just enjoying our moments as they ticked by.

And then just a little while ago, it hit me. It's January 31. Logan should have turned 9 1/2 years old today. And as I looked back at that rainbow and at the furious --and bizarre-- weather that preceded its appearance, I knew that in whatever way it's possible, my Sunshine was in it. And he --and God-- knew I'd seen it because I was supposed to see it; I was supposed to see the weird, raging storm followed by the gentle rain and finally by that incredible rainbow. That promise of better things to come after the turmoil. And he knew that even if I didn't get it in the moment, that I'd get it later and the connection would send a chill down my spine and bring a tear (or five) to my eye. It amazes me that I ask for signs; beg for them, plead for them, in fact. Yet so often, I miss them entirely.

So happy half-birthday, Logan. And thank you.

January 30

I saw this when we set out for today's walk and was immediately struck by its grandeur.

To my eyes, it looks like a huge flower in full bloom.

No big message to share; I just thought it was pretty, and artfully made by God, who can put flowers in the sky even during the colder months when they cannot flourish in the earth.

January 29

I found the boys like this as I was getting ready to head out the door this afternoon:

I love that they love each other so much. I love that they sit together and lean on one another and laugh together. It's simple but true: these days are sweet in and of themselves, but these moments make them sweeter.

January 28

I saw this last night when I was browsing Amazon (looking for a Planes comforter for Brady's new bed) and thought 'funny, I kind of want that.' Then I saw it in person at Toys R Us this afternoon and thought 'ha, I have to have that.' So I got it.

My grandpa's name was Roscoe. And he always (always) had a baseball cap perched atop his head. So of course, he immediately came to mind when I saw it, and the whole thing made me smile.

As Adam noted in response to the photo when I texted it to him, it's "a wink from someone else ;)". A "someone else" who I so often imagine hanging out with Logan in a land far away, chatting about baseball and cars and, well, me.

Happy thoughts during an otherwise challenging time. Gotta love that.

January 27

I'm a crappy housekeeper. Anyone who's been inside our abode could tell you that, and it's the primary reason why I would jump through a succession of flaming hoops to avoid having visitors. But what you don't know is this: I'm a crappy housekeeper kinda-sorta on purpose.

You didn't know that because I didn't even know it until tonight, when I found myself doing something I'd never done before: cleaning up Logan's Corvettes.

To be fair, they're the Corvettes we've acquired since he passed; the ones that called out 'hey look, I remind you of Logan!' from their shelf pegs. The ones that still make me smile when I see them.

But today, for some reason, I decided that they needed to be organized. I bought a plastic container (and, admittedly, the four cars with flame jobs right there on top because dude, I could hear him chirping 'what cool fllllllaaaaame jobs!' in the far corner of my mind) and I organized. I wandered around the house picking up the 'Vettes I found so I could tuck them away for safe keeping.

I don't know why today was the day that I decided to straighten up. Maybe because almost four years after his passing, I realized that organizing them didn't mean that I was packing up Logan to store him away. It just means I'm... straightening up. Trying to restore a sense of order that's long been absent. Maybe even trying to chip away at the walls I've put up around myself; the walls that are designed to both keep my feelings and the sadness in, and to keep others out. Yeah, that may be part of it.

So yup, the Corvettes are neatly nestled in their new home. But it's a comfort to know that they'll be safely hidden away under my bed, and that I'll be able to take a peek at them whenever I feel the need to take a cruise down memory lane.

January 26

Abby thinks it's funny to do this, and though I may pretend otherwise when I'm trying to get her to stop it and go to bed, I do have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing aloud.

This is what she does when I'm walking on my treadmill. There are a lot of things about these preteen times that I don't particularly like, but her desire to make me smile --while showing off her oft-domant goofy side-- is always a blessing.

January 25

Abby just finished her first full semester of middle school, so she didn't have class today.

She was actually excited to go to the elementary school to drop off Isaac this morning; there is, after all, something thrilling about seeing your old haunts through older eyes. I still remember the feeling myself all these years later and it's such a joy to see that same light in her eyes now. I knew exactly what she meant when she turned to me and told me that it was weird to be leaving while school was in session.

It was another joy to see her playing with the Little Boys at the playground before the bell. I know she's growing up, but the moments of youthful exuberance are always blessings to me.

January 24

I'm not sure it's a great idea, but I'm drinking this tea right now.

I got it while we were visiting grandma; my aunt sent it to her, and I tried it and liked it, so she packed up a dozen teabags for me to bring home. It has this amazing cinnamon flavor and it's totally delicious, so I decided that tonight would be a good time to crack open the Ziploc (even though it's not decaf and the last time I had some at night, I couldn't sleep!).

There's something cozy about sipping this tea. It reminds me of grandma and of our time there with her. And I treasure those little reminders.

January 23

Our sons are buddies, and somewhere along the way when I wasn't really watching, these people became some of my best friends.

Three of us have January birthdays, so tonight we gathered at Valerie's house for fondue and chit chat. We talked and laughed for literally hours before finally calling it quits just before midnight.

Good friends --the ones who know you're weird and don't care and who think it's funny when you wind up a wee bit tipsy from the wine in the cheese and who make you feel like you're valued and loved-- are priceless gifts.

January 22

Since I live so far from home, I rarely get to see old friends, but I got to spend just about the entire day today with a very dear one.

Meg was one of my closest friends in high school. Although we lived at opposite ends of the county, we spent lots of time at one another's houses, going for long drives, and enjoying appetizers and ice cream at Friendly's.

She was, in short, a huge part of my high school life, and it was such a blessing to just sit on the couch and talk with her for hours about the past, the present, and what's to come; kind of like the good old days, but honestly, better, because we could bring the wisdom that accompanies age into the conversation.

January 21

I admit that I do product testing fairly often. But no one paid me to buy these, and no one will pay me to eat the entire package all by myself. But I'll do it anyway.

This is a partially-eaten Cinnamon Bun Oreo. I bought them on a whim at Target this morning, and was not disappointed. Seriously, go buy some. If you like them, sweet. If you don't, bring them to my house and I'll dispose of them for you at no charge.

But why am I talking about cookies here? It's easy, really. Like I've mentioned, this time of the year is deeply challenging for me, so when I find something that makes me smile or gets me excited, it makes me happy. And those little jolts of happiness are hearty, Costco-sized blessings.

January 20

I've said this many times over the last several years, but God isn't merely interested in the big picture; He's also Lord of the details.

Since the kids had swimming this evening, I did what I often do and swung through the In N Out drive thru on the way back home. After we'd finished eating, I told Isaac that there were still some fries on the stove, so he wandered off to find them as Abby chirped that she too wanted some (but remained perched on the couch).

Rather than keeping them all for himself --as he certainly could have done-- Isaac carefully divided the remaining portion into two containers. He brought both into the family room, and cheerfully placed one of them in front of Abby.

A small gesture of kindness from a brother to a sister. It wasn't an earth-shaking move, but those little moments make life exponentially sweeter for me.

January 19

It's Tuesday, so it was a no-school day for Brady. We did our usual morning drop-offs (in the pouring down rain), I got my cuppa joe, and then we headed home. I did a little time on the treadmill while Brady played a video game in the next room. When I finished up, I decided to do some editing work, and started to sit in my chair before thinking better of it and joining the Muffin.

This time of the year sucks for me. I know that's not very eloquent, but it's the only way I can describe it that doesn't involve profanity. But when Brady chirped that he wanted to sit next to me and plunked down a few inches away, my heart filled right up with joy. I wish I could say it lasted all day, but it didn't. But I'm blessed that I had the chance to enjoy a short, blissful time with him as he chattered on about his game and I tackled my work.

January 18

We had a nice walk this afternoon. The sky was cloudy but the air was clearer than usual as we strolled along one of our usual routes. I miss snow sometimes, but it's hard not to enjoy this incarnation of January.

Green grass (courtesy of recent rain), clean air, and temps in the low sixties. So despite my many (many, many) gripes with how this state is run, today, I'm grateful for the great climate and the rains that will hopefully continue in the coming months and bring abundant life back to our drought-stricken land.

January 17

We watched Monsters U this evening during (and after) dinner. When it was over and the credits were rolling, Brady came to me, grabbed my hands, and told me he wanted to dance.

So we danced hand in hand for a minute before his crazed, passionate, herky-jerky moves became too much for his old mama and he twirled out into middle of the room to perform solo.

It was bittersweet. The second he told me he wanted to dance, I knew it was my moment for the day. The request filled me with a sense of joy and happiness, but also one more painful than I want to feel. It made me think of Logan, which is a good thing, but this time of year... it's hard.

Still, I'm thankful whenever any of them want to dance and be free. And I think that will always be the case, even if watching them makes my heart ache a little.

January 16

For the first time in quite a long while, nothing really stood out to me today. It's hard when that happens; it's frustrating to get to the end of a day only to realize that I haven't spent much --if any-- time paying attention. But there's always this:

I found this little name pin when I was unpacking Christmas boxes last month. There's actually one for each of the kids, and they all light up. Our Christmas stuff has since been cleared out and put away, but yesterday, I found this one on my chair. I'm sure one of the kiddos wasn't sure what to do with it and left it for me to find, but it made me smile to think of him. And it made me smile once again just now when I looked over to the arm of the couch where I placed it yesterday. And that's always a blessing.

January 15

After school today, the kiddos actually played together. Peacefully. Harmoniously.

I'm not sure what game they were playing; at one point, I checked in on them and they had Bear Bear wrapped up in toilet paper. (I didn't ask many questions.) But I didn't really care about the details, because they were laughing and having fun and genuinely enjoying one another's company.

Sibling harmony is a beautiful, blessed thing.

January 14

I'm sure that at some point in the past, I've posted something similar to this, but that's okay: these moments are both precious and far too few, so repetition is warranted.

This morning while we waited at the park for school to start, Brady decided to build an animal house. (It's really a bug house, given the size and materials, but Brady was so cute when he talked about finding "animals" to live in it that I didn't expend much effort on correcting his terminology.) He had a plan from the get-go, and I watched as he carefully laid out the framework with sticks and tanbark and then began looking for residents.

Creativity is a sweet blessing.

January 13

Although it rained last night --fairly hard at times, in fact, if the pounding on the rooftop was any indication-- the air was mostly moisture-free during the daylight hours. And the clouds were quite stunning.

As often happens on days like this one, my eyes were routinely drawn Heaven-ward. The interplay of light and cloud... just beautiful. And maybe even a peek at what's to come, some day.

January 12

By the time yesterday drew to a close, I felt very loved. From over 100 Facebook greetings to phone calls to texts to cookies to candies, I was overwhelmed and touched by the number of folks who took the time to remember my birthday. Then today, these arrived.

They came from my beautiful childhood friend Gretchen. We go all the way back to the first grade, when we both survived the indisputably terrifying experience of being Mrs. Harper's students. (Really. I was so scared of her. And I know Gretchen was, too!)

Anyhow, given how amazing yesterday was, I figured today would wind up being a total letdown, but it wasn't because these pretty little things --complete with an absolutely perfect sunshine-y mug!-- showed up. She even apologized that they were 'late,' but I don't think they were late at all; they came at just the perfect time.

I'm so thankful for all of my friends and for the things they do to show that they care.

January 11

I turned 38 years old today. (Although my sincere thanks goes out to every single person who --whether seriously or in an attempt to boost my ego-- said something along the lines of 'so which number is this birthday? 33? 34?') It was, all in all, a nice one, complete with coffee brought to me by my Hunny, the usual drop-offs, lunch at Red Tractor with Adam and Brady, dinner at On the Border with the fam, and homemade cake and presents at home to close it all out.

I love these people. There's really nothing better than I can say. It's a blessing to spend time with them all; to laugh with them over the ridiculous moments (like when, after opening a package containing a sweater that Abby picked out for me, she signed moodily and said --totally deadpan-- 'it reminded me of pie'), to share sweet treats, and --at the root of it all-- to share this life.

Of course, underneath it all, I quietly longed all day long for a hint that Logan was along for the ride. There were small things, like the maroon Corvette outside the restaurant at lunch and the Mack truck I saw on the way home this evening that featured a colorful flame job. Although my heart wishes for more, I'm thankful for those little moments, just like I'm thankful for the rest of the day. It wasn't a perfect day because no day has the chance to be perfect without him here, but it was about as close as it could've been.

January 10

I had a few errands to run after church and Abby had a Target gift card from Christmas burning a hole in her pocket, so we headed off together for a few hours this afternoon.

When we got home with our My Little Ponies (Abby), shoelaces (me) and Brady's birthday pictures (that I kept forgetting to pick up), I found Adam and Brady standing side-by-side in front of the oven, rolling cookie dough into little balls. I stopped for a moment and watched them work; Brady looked both tall and tiny as he stood there on the step stool, chattering away about something or other --I couldn't tell what from a distance-- as he accomplished his helper-duty.

It was a happy sight. A blessed sight. Adam liked to bake with Logan, so seeing him continuing his custom with Brady as his sous-baker was bittersweet in a way, but still decidedly sweet.

January 9

At lunch today, we were confused when the food runner brought us an extra plate of chocolate chip pancakes. At first, we sent him away, but then Adam checked the receipt and discovered that he had, somehow, inadvertently bought two orders. So we had him box it up to go. A little later, Isaac very excitedly pointed at something behind me. When I turned my head, I saw this:

Of course, this picture wasn't colored by my Logan, but I was overwhelmed by the symbolism: the extra meal that arrived with "Logan" right there with us at the table; and not just at the table, but right over my shoulder. It was almost like he was, in one way or another, actually there.

Given the time of year --my birthday in a few days, and then the big anniversary just a month later-- those little reminders are very much needed blessings.

January 8

I got an unexpected yet pleasant surprise in yesterday's mail: a pair of Starbucks hot cocoa KCups. I guess they were just a nice little perk for spending as much time as I do in those shops! Anyway, with the work week in the books, I decided to enjoy one of them this evening.

A comfy chair. A fuzzy, warm blanket. An 80s TV show on the tube. And a cuppa hot chocolate sipped from my new Maryland mug. That's my idea of a nearly perfect Friday night. It's always a blessing to be able to leave the busy-ness behind, sit, and reflect on the week that's just passed by.

January 7

Abby has always been into art, so it didn't surprise me when, after recently developing an affinity for My Little Pony, she decorated her walls with homemade Cutie Marks. What I found her doing this evening, however, did raise my eyebrows.

When I went to tell her that dinner was ready, I found her sprawled out on her bedroom floor, making these little paper shields. They looked familiar, but I wasn't able to place where I'd seen them, so I asked what she was doing. She explained that they were the Paw Patrol insignias, and that she was making them for Brady so he could decorate his walls like she'd decorated her own.

My heart smiled. I'm not sure what's gotten into her lately --from telling Isaac "I love you" last night at bedtime to creating handmade art for Brady-- but I like it a lot. And I'm thankful for her sweet spirit.

January 6

As Isaac was heading to bed tonight, Abby called out good night, Isaac! I love you!. I was taken aback by the outward expression of affection for her younger bro; I mean, she says "I love you" to me and Adam all the time, but she's not generally quite as open with the Little Boys. The gesture wasn't lost on Isaac: he turned on his heel and gave her a big hug.

I don't know if it was a sudden fit of maturity or if she simply said aloud what she usually keeps to herself, but those words were sweet ones to this mom's ear. Harmony under my roof is a beautiful thing.

January 5

This kid.

This little sassafras didn't have school today (since he's off on Tuesdays), so he ran errands with me after we dropped off Abby and Isaac. He was very patient as we bought cat food and checked out the local Hallmark's post-Christmas sale. Here, he's giving me his sassiest face while we had a brief pit stop at Starbucks.

This is such a Brady face, and it's also a Logan face. So seeing it is a double blessing for me; a reminder of how things used to be, of how they are now, and of what will be again some day.

January 4

I know from experience that as the kids grow up, opportunities to see them in action at school dwindle. So although I was initially a bit bummed to realize I'd signed up to be the preschool class co-op today --the first day back from break when all I'd wanted was to sip coffee and zone out for a few hours-- I wound up being thankful for that unexpected time with my little Muffin.

It's a gift to me to see Brady's personality emerge and blossom. I like to sit back and observe him as he interacts with his peers and tries to solve problems as they arise. I felt a surge of pride every time he followed directions and each time he took the high road when provoked by another child. He's a good boy, and it makes me feel like I'm doing okay with the whole parenting-thing when I see him following directions and participating and playing. Those feelings of competence are golden.

January 3

A little humor is almost always welcome in my world.

The Little Boys were in their seats in the car this afternoon when Brady suddenly exclaimed 'hey look, mommy, a chicken finger!' When I turned around, he brandished his pointer finger, which was topped with a chicken nugget: a 'chicken finger.'

I chuckled over the funny as Isaac decided he needed to get in on it. And then we all laughed a little more.

Those moments of child-induced bliss coupled with the blessing of watching their little senses of humor develop and change over time... just awesome stuff all around.

January 2

It doesn't get cold enough here to snow, but we can always pretend, right?

Olaf was our new lawn decoration this season. Since we're running out of display space in our very tiny front yard, Adam thought it would be a good idea to place him outside our sliding glass door. Although he still startles me when I forget he's there, he never fails to make me smile.

And that's a blessing indeed.

January 1

And with that, I'm starting year four of this blog. Given that I wasn't sure I'd even make it a month, it's stunning to me that it's come as far as it has.

With that said, I'll fully admit that I'm incredibly jet lagged and that my thinking is beyond muddy right now. We arose at 5:15 Eastern time this morning, drove to BWI, boarded a plane to Oakland, and arrived at about 11:15 local time. So though my computer's clock says it's just 6:37 PM, it feels more like midnight. But I have a tale to tell to kick off 2016. (Though the photo isn't strongly related to the story, it's one of few that I took today and it's kinda-sorta related so it works!)

In an attempt to avoid the obscene cost associated with parking on airport property (and because Adam didn't feel comfortable asking anyone to drive us since we had a relatively early flight to Maryland), we opted to park at an off-site lot. It seemed all good until we got to the car this afternoon and the owner didn't have our keys. Both Adam and I had an identical clear memory of him handing the man the keys as he dropped us off at the terminal, but he insisted that we'd taken them. So we were stuck and a little panicked over the idea that our house and car keys could be literally anywhere. I suggested that perhaps a call to the police might jog his memory, but the guy just shrugged and said to go ahead and call. Adam had him go through every single set of keys on his wall, but no dice. We were super blessed that our friend John, who spent the whole two weeks we were gone taking care of feeding our cat and watering our Christmas tree, was willing to drive out to Oakland to bring us our other set, but still, we stressed. (Or maybe it was just me stressing.) I silently prayed that the keys would just mystically show up out of thin air... and then, well, as utterly unbelievable as it sounds, they did just that.

After searching through all of our bags, I was stunned when Adam pulled the keys from the front pocket of his backpack during one final, ostensibly futile check. I think we both were, to be honest. After all, we both remembered the rainy morning we left when Adam handed the attendant to keys and we turned to go into the airport. But there they were, as if they'd been there all along.

I almost cried in relief when I saw them, and I immediately wondered if Logan had something to do with their sudden and virtually miraculous appearance. As we settled in for the ride home, the kids were unanimous with their opinion: it was God. They were sure of it. And so am I.

Kind of a cool way to start the new year, I think.