February 29

I could've been annoyed by the energetic game of hide and seek the kids decided to take part in this evening, but I wasn't. There was so much giggling and cooperation that I couldn't have possibly gotten upset with them.

It's not all that uncommon for Isaac and Brady to play together, but when Abby joins in, it's something special. I suspect she spends a lot of her time feeling like her partner in mischief is missing, so when she lets her guard down and plays along and enjoys the Little Boys' company with such gregarious sincerity, my heart rejoices.

February 28

When it comes to my outward appearance, it's safe to say that I don't try particularly hard, so it follows that I'm also not particularly vain. So whenever I see a photo of myself that I actually like, I feel a little jolt of joy. This image from today is one such pic.

Brady and I attended our second birthday party of the weekend this afternoon. Unlike yesterday, he decided that he wanted to play laser tag, and I think he had a good time: every time he took aim at someone, he gleefully exclaimed I got you! I got you! and then let out an equally gleeful guffaw.

I was tired as I drove him toward the party and desperately wanted some time to just be by myself, but I took a deep breath and pressed the reset button, and I think we both had fun. I got to watch and listen to him playing with his buddies again. We both got to try out laser tag. (I'm atrocious at it, in case you wondered.) And I wound up with a pretty nice photo of both of us. A blessing, despite my initially less-than-stellar attitude? Yep.

February 27

Today, Brady and I went to a Minecraft-themed birthday party for one of his preschool buddies.

I've said it many times over, but it's such a blessing and a pleasure to watch him play with his friends and have a good time. However, it's also a blessing to be reminded that he still needs his mama sometimes. When the other kids went into a dark room to play laser tag, my little muffin tightly gripped my hand as he declined his invitation to join them. So though I love that he's comfortable enough to play on his own with his friends, I also love that I can still make him feel comfortable and secure in the face of uncertainty.

February 26

It's not lost on me that my babies are growing up at warp speed. I still think of Abby as a spunky four-year old with ringlets who sang the Outrigger Island song ad nauseum as she dreamed of being a hula girl at VBS, yet she's now a middle schooler. So this afternoon when Brady plunked down in my chair with Bear Bear and announced that he wanted to cuddle while watching Arthur, I happily complied.

I love how it feels to sit with him, maybe in part because I'm keenly aware that he's my caboose and the days of him wanting to sit in my lap under a blanket are probably more limited than I'd like, but also because the little moments matter so much. I love smelling his hair and admiring the tiny freckles that dot his cheeks and leaning in close as I listen for the steady thump of his heartbeat. It's all such a gift.

February 25

My kids crack me up (sometimes. Sometimes they just make me feel like I'm cracking up).

This morning, after we emptied a box of cereal, Brady asked if he could have the box. I said sure, so he grabbed it and a pair of scissors and scurried into the family room. A few minutes later, he showed me this:

The Trix box, starring... Bear Bear.

I laughed, and then found myself musing who DOES that?!, which was something of a silly question since duh, apparently my kid does that.

Anyhow, it was just a silly, lighthearted moment. But Heaven knows I need those, especially during this time of year, so I'm thankful.

February 24

Isaac had baseball practice this afternoon. That's him standing on first base.

He loves baseball. The process of getting his team assignment figured out and nailed down was a complicated one, but as I watched him gleefully fielding balls and running the bases, somehow, all of the bad feelings and the drama faded away.

And they faded away even more when, as he ran from second to third base at one point, Abby and Brady --who were perched next to me on the bleachers-- began shouting Go Isaac! Go Isaac!. Hearing them support their brother is an amazing thing, and watching him kive out one of his passions is, too.

February 23

After swim lessons, we typically hit the In N Out drive thru for burgers and fries. I was tired today, so I zoned as I idled in the usual long line, awaiting my turn to pay. But I found myself jolted to consciousness when I pulled up to the window and saw the guy at the register.

It took me all of about a quarter of a second to zero in on his name tag: Logan. I was so distracted by the sight of that sweet, familiar name that I completely tuned him out as he recited my order, so he wound up having to tell me twice. (Oops.)

So yeah. Seeing that name, those five letters all strung together, gave me a perfect little jolt of joy.

February 22

We usually stop at the park by the school for a few minutes before drop-off each morning. Today during our pause, the Little Boys made a new little friend.

He called out to them as we approached, and I encouraged them to go be friendly, so they did. I stood back and watched as one by one, they zipped their respective jackets and put up their hoods (which was funny, since it wasn't particularly cool out). Then they herded off to the preschool structure and played until it was time to go.

If only adults had such an easy time being friendly to one another. But fortunately, seeing them do it does my heart a lot of good.

February 21

It was a beautiful day. We enjoyed the sunny, blue skies during our walk, and then the kids enjoyed some unexpected playtime as we happened upon some friends at the playground. At one point along the way, we passed by a group of squirrels who were engaged in some kind of rowdy squirrel-behavior. And it made me laugh.

You can't really see them here, but there are at least three on the tree. I paused and watched as they scurried from branch to branch, their claws scritching and scratching as they rapidly jumped from one to the next. They seemed so free. And it was good to be reminded that we're all free in Christ.

February 20

It feels like a strange thing to say in mid-to-late February, but it's felt like spring lately. And the trees sense the changes in the weather, too.

Like nature, my life follows a kind of pattern: the time from the beginning of the year through Logan's anniversary is hard. It's like I'm wearing a heavy coat that I can't take off; no matter how much I struggle against its weight, I'm powerless to do much of anything. But then the date comes and goes, and it's like that coat gets lighter and lighter until eventually, it's the weight of a windbreaker. And I can feel the warmth of the sun once again.

I guess that's something of a tangent; what I meant to convey is that I'm thankful for spring and for the renewal that comes each and every year as the seasons change. And the cherry blossoms are, of course, a visual symbol of renewed life.

February 19

Abby and I have taken to having a girls' night out on Fridays between her tap class and our mother/daughter dance class. Tonight, we decided to hit up Target (because it's a happenin' place) and it wound up being pay dirt for both of us.

Abby's been into My Little Pony lately, and has been looking for these little figures for at least a month; from asking employees, I knew that they were available, but the manufacturer seemed to be shorting the retail supply for one reason or another. Anyhow, Abby was delighted to find a box full tonight, and she was even more delighted to find the single pony she'd been hunting for quite some time: Princess Twilight Sparkle. (Yep. That's the name.)

Then I glanced at the Hot Wheels section. I tend to search a little more urgently for Corvettes this time of year, and until tonight I hadn't had much luck. So I was surprised --and really happy-- to find not just one but two that weren't previously part of our collection.

Small things, yes, but they made me smile. And with how difficult last week was for me emotionally, I could use a whole lotta smiles in my life.

February 18

The Logan W. Memorial Coffee was born a year after Logan died when one of my friends asked what I'd like to do to commemorate the anniversary. I said meeting for coffee would work, and each year since, we've gathered shortly after the date to chat about our lives and remember my Sunshine.

As I sat with them this morning and sipped my drink, I felt a sense of joy as I realized just how blessed I am to have each of them in my life. These ladies understand how much I want --need-- to keep his memory alive. They've stuck with me despite my sometimes erratic ups and downs, and they've each --even the ones I don't see as often-- given me the gift of friendship when I needed it most.

So for each of them, and for all of my other so-called angels on earth, I'm so thankful, and my prayer is that some day, I might be as big a blessing to each of them as they are to me.

February 17

It's not unusual for Brady to return from brief jaunts bearing fistfuls of dandelions, but today, he found one of the biggest ones I've ever seen.

He was delighted with his full, bright yellow find, and immediately announced that it was for daddy. So we brought it home and put it in a cup of water (with the six blooms that he plucked during yesterday's expedition).

What can I say? I love his giving heart.

February 16

After January brought us some degree of relief from our sustained drought, February has been a bit of a dud to date: we haven't seen a single drop of rain. It's been so dry, in fact, that as I drove the kiddos to swimming tonight, I lamented the gray, hazy air that partially obscured the hills in the distance. But when I turned my head in the other direction, I saw this:

With so much ugliness --both literal and figurative-- polluting the world these days, it's easy to wind up discouraged. But it's just as easy to remember that sometimes, I merely need to avert my gaze a bit to see something beautiful and encouraging. And to me, that's good news.

February 15

Since Brady is our caboose and no new baby came along to oust him from the crib, he used it much longer than any of the other kids. (An embarrassingly long time, actually.) After we finally took it down a few months ago, he slept on a mattress on the floor. And then today, Adam built his brand new big boy bed.

When I checked on him a little while ago, I was struck by how small he looks in that bed, but at the same time, I felt a pang of sadness over seeing him looking so grown up. My baby is definitely not a baby. But in the same breath, I'll say that I'm thankful that I'm getting to watch him --and Abby and Isaac-- mature and change, because watching your kids grow up is one of the biggest gifts we receive in this life.

February 14

It wasn't lost on me that four years ago today, we spent our Valentine's Day driving around, looking at burial plots for our five-and-a-half year old son. So in a way, it follows that part of me hates this holiday. Still, another smaller and much quieter part of me still knows --and still whispers to the bigger, more dominant part of me that takes over this time of year-- that it's still worth celebrating.

It's just a silly Hallmark holiday, yes. I know. But at the same time, it's a day devoted to the expression of love and affection. And there's value in this day because it's true that no matter what happens in this life --underneath, through, over, and under it all-- love still remains. Even when we can't feel it or see it or touch it, love remains.

February 13

I'd been looking for a new Pixar car for a long while. It seemed like as soon as stores put them on the shelves, collectors would immediately snatch them up. I was quietly disappointed when one didn't show up for me on Logan's day of remembrance. But today, I finally struck pay dirt.

I'd never even heard of this one when I found it hanging on a peg at Walmart this afternoon. I know it's just a thing and things are transient, but it meant a lot to me to find one, especially right now. As I plucked it from its resting place, I had a thought...You came through... just a few days later than I wanted.

I think I often have that mindset when it comes to my life. Like most --well, maybe even all?-- people, I want things my way, in my time. I don't like waiting. But I have to admit that those things I wait a little longer for seem so much sweeter when they finally come to me.

So for this little car --my little sign from Beyond-- and all of the things in my life that've required a bit of extra patience, I'm thankful.

February 12

At the risk of being overly dramatic, I really suffered through the past several days. Virtually nothing went right, and I was so emotionally over-wrought that even when I had a few minutes to cry, I couldn't do it. More than once as I drove from A to B, I found myself pounding on my steering wheel, begging God to just DO something. And then He did.

The early hours of my Friday saw me wondering how am I ever going to find the time to have my coffee today? since I had drop-offs, then the grocery store, then co-op duties at preschool on my calendar. But then as if on cue, I got a text from Brady's teacher asking if I'd like her to bring me a cup.

Pretty amazing, right? When I arrived at the school towing the Valentine party supplies, my coffee was waiting for me. But that wasn't the only awesome moment from today. There was the party itself, which saw all 12 kiddos high on a delightful combination of youthfulness and sugar. And then this evening, some unexpected and frankly miraculous help from a friend opened a door that I'd thought was firmly closed and locked with a dead bolt.

Adam is still sick. We've all still been exposed to whatever he has. Logan is still gone and I still have to cope with the never ending pain of that loss. But blessings are blessings, and I'm thankful when they show up.

February 11

It's been four years since I held my Sunshine in my arms and sang him into Heaven. The ache is as fresh as it was that very day; it's like I spend February 12 through the end of the year building up a callous on my heart to protect it, and then my birthday comes and it starts to rupture until it finally breaks open again on this date. Bleeding love, I guess.

Today wasn't an ideal anniversary, as if there could ever be such a thing. I've been down --very down-- for a while now. This week has been horrible; I honestly can't think of much of anything that hasn't gone wrong in one way or another, and I feel defeated. Then Adam awoke this morning with a fever and what I suspect is a case of the flu, which meant we couldn't do our usual planned activities to honor Logan's memory. While he laid on the couch feeling terrible, I dealt with the kids and school, went to the grocery store for ginger ale, stressed over a situation with what may or may not wind up being Isaac's baseball team, donated blood, visited Logan's grave, and got ready for the preschool Valentine party tomorrow. Then I came home and fell asleep. But I didn't cry. I didn't have time to cry.

I suppose that's a grim depiction of the day, but wasn't all bad. Though I can't point to a moment --and I wish with everything in me that there'd been an obvious 'yup, that's him' snip of time-- there were small things, like the two beautiful, brand new Corvettes that caught my eye from a distance and the single green toy Vette that I finally found after ransacking the diecast car aisle at Walmart. And there was also this:

As a general rule, I don't care much for spaghetti and meatballs, but it was one of Logan's favorites, so Adam likes to make it from time to time. So he dragged his sick bum off the couch to prepare it for us, and we ate it while watching Cars. Given my general distaste for the dish, I was surprised when I took a bite and realized that it was actually good. Maybe some of his best ever. So I sat there in my chair, eating and watching Logan's favorite movie and his favorite movie stars and watching as the rest of our family watched, too. It was a peaceful moment, and I was struck by the silent reverence they showed the film.

It's a good movie, but I think it was all for Logan. As it very well should have been.

February 10

For the most part, today just sucked. I can't explain what it's like to go through these feelings every single year, and complicating factors not even related to Logan's passing made it even worse; I'm just, in general, disillusioned by and frustrated with people. So this was really the lone bright spot in an otherwise lousy day.

After I dropped Isaac, Abby, and Brady at their respective schools, I scrambled back to the elementary school as quickly as I could for Isaac's Wax Museum. Each child stood on a picnic table in the courtyard, and wore 'press here' buttons. When you pushed a kid's button, he or she would 'come to life' and tell the story of a particular historical figure. Isaac chose Jackie Robinson, hence the baseball and cap.

It was nice to see the fruits of his academic labor, and I'm thankful that I got there in time.

February 9

I was wandering around the house this evening, kind of aimlessly, when I came upon the kids' box of Lego minifigure parts. I took a picture because the sight spoke to me.

Although I'm not literally surrounded by spare heads, legs, and torsos (which I know will come as a relief to you guys), my life feels like this box of parts lately: chaotic. Disorganized. In pieces. Even full-on broken in some places.

But it's not all bad news. Like the Legos, my life can be built into something great by the true Master Builder. I just need to decide that I'm willing to be shaped.

February 8

I can't lie: life is just hard right now. These days leading up to the anniversary are emotionally taxing. I've kept myself distracted for the last month by taking part in this completely insane virtual walking tour of Europe that required me to walk more than 11 miles each day, but now that it's over, I have more time to sit and think. And the ache is setting in, as is its custom.

But it's not all bad. The kids didn't have school today, so this morning I took them out for brunch.

I pointed the phone at them and they instinctively grabbed one another. They were in the middle of a "cheers" when I snapped this image.

I love that they're so close. When life is hard, I cling to moments like these when their love for one another is so strong and outwardly apparent. These moments remind me that despite my sadness, God is still on His throne and is still the God of what drives their affinity for one another: love.

February 7

While the rest of us watched the Super Bowl and munched on chips and dip, Abby headed off to a skydiving birthday party. (Really. Indoor skydiving. I was surprised, amused, and proud to discover that she actually did it, too.) When she got home this evening, she walked in the door and immediately thrust this sheep in my direction and said "this is Logan."

She went on to explain that she'd gotten Logan the Sheep from a claw machine at Fuddruckers after the skydiving extravaganza. She backtracked and said that no, the name on the sheep's tag wasn't actually Logan, but she looked at it and immediately named it Logan. It was totally apropos since Logan loved his Lambie.

I love that he's still on her mind and that she's still doing things to keep him close to her heart. It's a beautiful thing.

February 6

It's Saturday and the skies were clear, so of course, we took our customary walk around the neighborhood this afternoon. Abby spent pretty much the entire time trotting along beside me, chattering about My Little Pony and the Mane Six.

Although I know more about those whimsical ponies than I ever wanted or cared to know, I'm glad that my daughter talks to me. I'm glad that she wants to share what she's thinking and how she's feeling, and I don't take that gift for granted (even if I do think my ears will bleed if I hear one more word about Applejack and Princess Twilight Sparkle and the gang!).

February 5

Brady didn't have the best morning ever. After we left Isaac at school, he accidentally dropped a ball he'd been playing with into the sewer grate, and we watched helplessly as it vanished from sight and listened as it bounce-bounce-bounced into oblivion. He tried to be tough, but cried in quiet disappointment as we rode to preschool and again as I dropped him off in his classroom. It hurt my heart to see him sad, but I told his teacher what had happened and headed out, hopeful that he'd rebound. And fortunately, he did just that.

He grinned when I arrived at pick-up. Then he announced that he wanted to go to the on-site playground. He made a point of saying good-bye to his friends as they left, and played hide and seek with G, a little girl in his class. So yeah, he rebounded.

I could learn a thing or two from him. It's so easy to allow less than ideal circumstances to cloud my day, and the ability to just let go --and, to be cliche, let God-- is a blessing.

February 4

As the kiddos and I arrived home after getting dinner this evening, the Goodyear blimp was returning to its home base at the Livermore airport.

We watched from the front walk as it passed overhead. One of the kids decided that it would be a good idea to wave, so before I knew it, the three of them were enthusiastically waving and calling out. Brady, who like his biggest brother is a big fan of all-things Cars, gave me a knowing smile as he declared 'I know what his name is. It's Al!" because of course, the blimp in Cars is named Al Oft.

Cute moment. Cute observation. Much-needed reminder of days gone by. All in all, a good thing indeed.

February 3

Today, Brady drew a picture for Isaac and wanted to write a little story to go along with it. So I helped him spell the words and he wrote it all down, all by himself.

Logan was about his age when he decided he wanted to write out words, and I spent hours with him spelling out full sentences and watching as he created one perfect letter after another.

Seeing Brady follow suit five years later is a bittersweet thing --after all, how is my baby already five?-- but it's always a gift to re-live pleasant memories, so I'll take those moments with a hearty dose of gratitude.

February 2

There was nothing especially remarkable about today, in and of itself. Brady felt better, which is great, and I shuttled the others off to school on time before the littlest munchkin and I hit the mall. Yup. Just another day. But it's never really "just a day" with these people.

They make me grind my teeth, eat my hair, and chomp on the insides of my mouth on a regular basis, but it's a privilege to be with them every single day, watching them grow and change. They help to make my otherwise unremarkable days more interesting, and that's a blessing.

February 1

I blinked and suddenly, it's February. This first day of the new month started off well enough, with the kiddos heading off to school and me running some errands. After preschool, I gave Brady lunch and he played a tablet game for a little while... and then it became apparent that my little muffin wasn't feeling well.

He first complained that he was thirsty, and then said that his "mouth" hurt, though I'm still not sure if he meant his mouth or his throat or something else entirely. (Oh, the challenges of isolating discomfort in little people!) I carried him from the car to the school to pick up Isaac and watched as he stared listlessly into space while we drove to retrieve Abby. He wound up falling asleep at the foot of the staircase at 5:30, and Adam carried him off to bed for the night.

I'm sad that he's not feeling well, but I loved being able to fully mother him through his discomfort. I loved carrying him and taking his temperature and feeling his head against my shoulder, because I don't get to do those things very often anymore. And I loved how he answered my questions by closing his eyes and offering up a silent nod of the head, because it's just how his biggest brother reacted to such queries way back when.

Hopefully he'll be better in the morning, but today, I'm thankful that I had the gift of being there for him when he needed his mommy.