March 30

With a week of Spring Break ahead of us, we got up before the sun this morning and headed to the airport. Destination: Kaua'i. The trip was (thankfully) an uneventful one that happened to include one of Abby's friends (whose family happened to share the same flight) and a pair of windowless window seats, which generated the usual chicanery from said-daughter of mine. And then at the end of the five'ish hours of air time, Adam's parents were there to pick us up from Lihue as planned. We then spent a lazy afternoon lunching at the club and spending time at the pool and playing croquet (and walking and visiting the fitness center, if you were me. But yes: even non-water loving me got in the pool. And a hot tub. For a very, very short period of time. When in Rome, after all...).

Then after a lovely taco dinner prepared by Abby and Adam's mom, there were smores for some of us and then the boys asked to go to bed (which is always a shocker when it happens because they're constantly in go-mode these days).

It was, all in all, a very pleasant reintroduction to island life and a very pleasant day. But I want to draw attention to one of the pics in particular, which features me wearing a shirt that reads "love where you are". It's not the best shade of green, but I really like the message so I wear it as often as I can. Of course it's easy to love being on Kaua'i because it's Hawaii and this little slice of land in the Pacific is gorgeous and calming and quiet and amazing. But it's important to try to love where we are no matter where we may be, because if we're not doing that, we're probably missing out on pretty big blessings.

Aloha!

March 29

Okay, so I found this little pretty yesterday and not today:

But I picked it up this evening as I was walking by its perch and it made me smile. And it also made me think of how amazing it is that I get to think of Logan every single time I see a Corvette of any type.

It sucks that he's not here, but it's pretty cool that so many little details will trigger so many good memories.

March 28

The entire second grade put on their "Seussical" musical this afternoon. It was my first experience with this particular bit of entertainment, since back when Abby and Isaac were second graders, the performance was about life cycles. But I digress.

It was a short show, but Brady and his classmates did a good job of singing the songs and reciting bits and pieces of verse. In fact, at times I even thought they sounded somewhat melodious (which --if you've ever listened to a big group of 8-year olds sing for very long-- you know isn't exactly a guarantee).

So today, I'm thankful for those cute elementary school plays and that I have the time to attend them.

March 27

It rained (again) today. (Which of course meant yet another canceled baseball game, but that's neither here nor there.) I saw this after I dropped the boys off at school:

The funny thing about this particular rainbow is that it hadn't yet started to rain. In fact, based on the sky and the feel of the air at the time, I wasn't entirely convinced that it would rain at all. Yet there it was.

As a recent Kacey Musgraves song says, "there's always been a rainbow hanging over your head." Yes indeed. And today I looked up and saw it. :)

March 26

I am, by and large, totally over the whole rain-thing. It's wreaking havoc on the baseball season and the idea of all of the potential make-up games in mid-May makes me queasy. But there are two things about this image from this afternoon that made me smile.

The first is Brady's team in their post-practice huddle. I do love the brotherhood that comes along with baseball. I've mentioned it before, but I was never part of a team growing up, and I'm so glad that my boys are having an experience I didn't have. The second is how amazingly green the grass is. The rain may be annoying at this point, but it surely does create some really lovely scenery.

So as we prepare for yet another rainy day (insert eyeroll here), I'm thankful for those two sweet blessings.

March 25

We got the (mostly)bitter(but a little)sweet news this morning that the insurance company had decided to deem our minivan a total loss. (The sweet part is that they're giving us significantly more than we expected, so there's that.) I went over to the auto body shop where we took it after the accident to start the process of collecting our things from the interior before we sign it over later this week. I felt a wave of sadness as I stood in front of the old girl and looked at her crumpled front, and another wave when I walked around back and got another gander at the very crumpled back end. But the biggest wave of all hit me as I opened the door to start removing those personal items: Sunscreen, hand sanitizer, a jacket, containers of gum, goggles and passports from the swim lesson days, handfuls of loose change, a CD that I thought I'd lost ages ago. And a sprinkling of things that reminded me so strongly of Logan that I had to stop and sit for a few moments to collect myself -- Lightning McQueen and Mater in the center console, a Cars pencil in the backseat, and a half-used sheet of stickers on the floor. And then there was this in the driver's side door handle:

I bought it a few years ago at a Hallmark store. It was part of a keychain I carried with me that somehow came apart one day. I remember finding it in my seat --feeling thankful that it hadn't gotten lost-- and slipping it into the door handle for safe keeping. Then I'd see it there periodically when I got in and out of the car, and it always made me smile.

I tucked it away in a safe place in the big plastic bin I had with me, and climbed into the back seat to pull items from the cargo area (which didn't work particulary well since the damage is pretty significant and I have short arms). I stopped again as a memory of the day when we test drove the car washed over me. Logan was three years old at the time, and our precocious, car-loving kiddo sat in the seat upon which my knee rested and peppered the very-surprised car salesman with a slew of rapid-fire (and surprisingly intelligent) questions about the car's mileage and special features. I sat still for a moment and smiled at the memory before I finished my task, climbed back over the seat, and headed back home with my mostly filled box.

The hardest thing about saying goodbye to this car is that we are, for the second time in three months, saying goodbye to something tangible that holds distinct memories of our Sunshine. I can remember him in that car, just like I can remember him riding in the little red car (the recently-retired commuter). It's strange and a little painful to know that he'll never ride in any of the cars we have from here on out, and I still haven't really figured out how to deal with those feelings.

But in spite of the sadness, I'm thankful for the memories I had today while I packed up our things, and for the ones that will continue to come to me in the future, even if they are a bit bittersweet. Life is, after all, about feeling more than just the good things. And feeling the not-as-good things makes the truly good ones feel even better.

March 24

I talked to my mom on the phone for a while this evening and then headed downstairs to forrage for dessert. I was extra-pleased to remember that we still had some ice cream cake from Adam's birthday in the freezer, and after I go the go-ahead from the man himself, I served myself a slice.

I love it when I re-discover something I already knew I had and said-discovery brings me joy. There's nothing quite like a happy surprise (especially when it's a really delicious one).

March 23

We had rather defined plans for this evening: Abby was supposed to go to the city with a friend and her family to see "Hamilton," the boys were going have Boys' Night at home, and I was going to have dinner with a friend. The first two plans came to pass, but the third did not as my friend wasn't feeling well and had to cancel. (Feel better, chica!) So instead, I got myself Taco Bell and ice cream, and headed home to watch TV.

Given that I'm this sometimes-irritating (to me) mix of introvert and extrovert, I wasn't sure if an evening by myself would be a good thing or a bad thing, but it wound up being okay. Although I would've preferred my dinner out, it was nice to just sit and be for a little while.

March 22

This is literally a picture of dedication.

It rained on and off throughout the day, but the ball fields stayed open, and Isaac's coaches decided they'd have practice in spite of the sprinkles. About half of the boys showed up, and spent an hour catching fly balls and running through drills. (I sat in my dry car so I had no idea what they were doing sometimes, but they were definitely on the move.)

Imagine what the world would be like if we always poured that kind of dedication and commitment into the pursuits that are genuinely important to us and into each other. It'd probably be a better place, don't you think?

March 21

I started to write "I like good days," but I can't think of anyone who doesn't like good days so I'm tweaking the thought to read "I like days that feature multiple good elements." That's better. And it also happens to define my Thursday.

After a relatively chill morning of coffee and email, I had a calm afternoon of kid pick-ups and then an evening of baseball, which included Brady's team's first win of the season. (Incidentally, I'm glad they won but it still pains me to root for the Red Sox. So gross.) And then after the game, I got to go to dinner downtown with Kathy, who's in town for a (very) quick business trip.

She's only been gone for a few months, but I've missed her. And though my text and email game is strong (really, really strong, if I do say so myself), there's really nothing quite like connecting in person every now and then: eye contact, a hug... you can (if only briefly) experience all of the personal touches that you lose when there's distance involved.

So yes: it was a good day. And given how lousy a few of my recent days have been, I'll definitely take my multi-faceted blessing.

March 20

I found these rain boots at Target this morning.

They were from the kids' department (score one for smallish feet) and I looked at them for about 30 seconds before I decided they needed to come home with me.

They're a little silly, I know, but they're just so cheerful. And I do love how glitter makes me feel... happy.

So yup: today, I'm thankful for fun rain boots.

March 19

Man alive, this day. THIS DAY. This is going to be long, but bear with me because I will have a point in the end.

I got up this morning feeling off, so I decided it would be a "wear pajamas to the first drop-off" kind of day. Before we left, I sat on my bed and --as I often do-- I pulled prayer stones for some friends and prayed over them for a few minutes. Before I selected the last one, a word flashed through my mind: gratitude. I didn't pay much attention since I don't have a "gratitude" stone, but the word came back to mind again and again and again: gratitude. So I made a mental note to scrawl it on the palm of my hand between drop-offs.

And I did just that. And literally 10 seconds after I'd finished, Adam came through the front door, which was confusing since he was supposed to fly to Oregon this morning. Long and exhausting story shorter, he was involved in a chain reaction accident on the freeway on his way to the airport. I ran out front to see the car, and it was a hot mess. We haven't heard back from the insurance company, but the adjuster who gave it a gander at the autobody shop literally cringed when he saw the very-crunched back end. So given that and the less crunched but still crunched and leaking front end, it's probably totaled.

But even in that moment --when we were very unexpectedly faced with the likelihood that we'll need to buy our second new car in a very short span of time-- that word came to mind yet again: gratitude. So yes, though it sucks that the van is probably totaled, I'm grateful that no one was injured. And I'm doubly grateful that the 1997 Honda Civic he drove every day for more than 15 years lost first gear and was retired 3 1/2 months ago, which meant he was driving the very large and very sturdy minivan that was mine before we got the BMW I drive now. (And heck, there's also the blessing that he wasn't driving the new BMW!) And I'm also grateful that Adam's parents will be in Hawaii for the next month and gave the okay for him to borrow one of their cars while we sort it all out. So there's all of that.

Fast forward to this afternoon. I got home from picking up Abby from school and noticed that Isaac's fish, Jake, didn't look so good. I took a closer look and realized that he was actually belly up. After I finished facepalming (because seriously?!), we scooped him out of his tank, convened in the backyard, and laid him to rest alongside the other pet we've had -- our old kitty Violet. We shared a few fond words and said a prayer and Isaac and Brady cried. But even amid that second dose of unexpected sadness slash loss, that word came to me yet again: gratitude. Gratitude that that little blue betta fish lived with us for nearly two years and gratitude for the love that Isaac gave him every day he was here.

And then there was this evening. After I finally remembered to get dressed and brush my hair (because again, THIS DAY), Isaac played his second baseball game of the season. Although they came away on the losing end again, the word came back to me: gratitude. Gratitude that they fought back after initally trailing 1-9 to lose just 10-13. Gratitude that Isaac had a pair of hits and a pair of RBIs. And gratitude for the way he celebrated when he stole home for the very first time.

So yes. Although I'm bone tired and overwhelmed and there were many (many) things about today that sucked, I'll go to bed tonight feeling an enormous amount of gratitude for all that we do have, all that we have had, and all that we'll have in the days to come. And for the in-my-face (and on-my-palm) reminder that today has given me --that we're supposed to give thanks and feel gratitude even when things don't exactly go the way we'd like them to go-- I'm thankful.

March 18

Adam texted me this afternoon to ask if I wanted to go out to dinner, and I said sure.

So that's what we did: he picked up pizza for the kids on his way home and we went to the Cheesecake Factory.

Date night is always a good thing, even when it's relatively abbreviated. A few extra, uninterrupted moments to connect... priceless.

March 17

I looked up at the sky as I stood near Logan's grave this afternoon and saw two birds flying high overhead together, weaving to and fro and back and forth, just enjoying the breeze.

In the moment, the thought that Logan and his Gramps --Adam's granddad, who passed away early yesterday morning-- could be "flying" along together, sharing that same sense of freedom in the kingdom of Heaven right then and there came to me.

Lovely revelation, don't you think? I sure do.

March 16

After a week of delays, the baseball season finally opened today. Both Isaac and Brady --particularly Isaac, who loves playing so much that he told me last night that he wished he could skip the hours until his game-- were excited to suit up and head out this afternoon.

As it turned out, neither the AA Red Sox nor the AAA Braves emerged victorious from their match-ups, but neither game was a blowout and both teams played well enough to win -- just not today.

The boys responded to their respective losses in unsurprising ways: Brady simply shrugged and said he had fun and enjoyed catching, and then rightly noted that they'd be playing again on Thursday. Page turned. That's Brady. Isaac, however, took it harder. I could tell that he was assessing the performance as we walked away from the field, and I could also tell that he wasn't exactly thrilled with how it all went down. That's Isaac. But by the time we got home after a Slurpee stop, both boys had returned to a positive mindset and scurried to the back yard --still wearing their uniforms and cleats-- to play catch.

I love Brady's adaptability and how he can bounce back from less than stellar experiences. And I love how Isaac thinks and processes and fine-tunes, all with the end goal of playing better. And I absolutely love how, at the end of the day, something as simple as baseball can bring them together.

March 15

The kiddos didn't have school today so we did as is our custom and went to Black Bear Diner for brunch.

I can't remember the precise impetus, but at one point just before our food arrived, Isaac and Brady (and I'm pretty sure Abby and I as well) broke into a fit of giggles.

I watched them laugh for a few seconds and felt a sense of tranquility encompass my heart. Laughter definitely does a body good, so for today's amusement (and for these two grinning little faces), I'm grateful.

March 14

I'm rarely at a loss for words, but I'm pretty close with this one. Adam found out yesterday that his granddad is dying and this morning, after kid dropoffs, we took the 30-minute drive to the hospital in Walnut Creek to say good-bye.

I've been in the picture for over 20 years now, but it was a little uncomfortable for me sitting there in that room, listening as Adam said his last few words to a man who's been so important to him over the years and watching as his dad and aunt teared up across the room. But I'm glad I went. I'm glad I got to witness the free exchange of affection between all of them and I'm glad that I got to see these three great men --because though you may not notice right away, Adam's dad wound up in the frame, too-- together in the same space one more time.

Given how uncertain and inconsistent this life can often be, I'm thankful for the stability and care that he provided to Adam and the rest of his family over the years. They're truly blessings that can't possibly be measured. (Oh, and my last words to him? Tell Logan hi for us. He said he definitely would.)

March 13

In the six-plus years I've been keeping this blog, I've forgotten to write two times. One of those times was yesterday. I have no idea how it happened since it's ingrained into my brain to do it at this point, but for one reason or another, I forgot. So here's what I was going to say.

Brady's class held their wax museum presentation today. All of the kiddos spend nearly a month becoming experts on historical figures, and then on wax museum day, each one dresses up as his or her pick and gives a speech as if they were a wax figure of his or her person. (I hope that makes sense because mama's tired and can't figure out how else to describe it.) Frank Robinson --who was an MLB player (Orioles baby!) and manager--passed away literally the day before Brady got the assignment, so that's who he chose. Here he is along with his little Frank paper doll.

With all of the busy-ness that drives us in today's modern world, it's really easy to overlook moments like this, but we shouldn't because they're precious. They're the things that make this life fun and engaging and just... happy. And fortunately for his class, they had a packed house of parents, which suggests that many, many of us hold tight to that same view.

So for that, and for these sweet little moments that flitter by far too quickly (and for Brady's willingness to be an O's fan in the land of the A's!), I'm so thankful.

March 12

Even though the boys won't play their first baseball games until Saturday, we got a nice surprise this afternoon when the city unexpectedly opened the fields and they were able to practice on actual diamonds for the first time this season.

Brady was up first with his team --which it pains my Oriole-loving blood to say is the Red Sox-- for some fielding and hitting action. I just sat on the bleachers in the sunshine and alternately watched Brady playing and Isaac *watching* Brady playing from his perch a few rows down. Then a little while later, we migrated a few fields down to watch Isaac's turn in the cages and on the field.

It felt homey to me. And for that blessing of familiarity --particulary during a season that's felt so unstable to me-- I'm thankful.

March 11

Today was one of the Mondayest Mondays I've had in a while. Courtesy of Daylight Savings time, the alarm clock sounded when it was still dark outside. Then when it was time to take Abby to school, a heavy layer of fog blanketed the town, which significantly limited visibilty for the drive.

But strangely enough, the fog was also kind of beautiful. It made the air feel unusually still and calm, and the colors that pierced it more vibrant. So today, on this Mondayish Monday, I'm thankful to have noticed something lovely.

March 10

Today is Adam's 41st birthday, which signals the end of my slightly-less-than-two-month annual term as The Older Woman. He kicked off his 42nd year with church, and followed it up with our weekly visit to Logan's grave and On the Border for lunch. And then we headed across the way to the movie theater to see "Captain Marvel."

Our post-movie activities included a walk (for just him and me), In N Out, part of a Warriors game on TV, cake (one ice cream from Baskin Robbins and another made by Abby with a lot of love), and presents. And now, the short people are in bed and we're rounding out the day with some "Battlestar Galactica."

We've certainly had our highs and lows over the course of our 21+ years as a couple, but he is most definitely a good man and a better father. So for the blessing of having him in my life since I was a tender 19 years old, I'm thankful. Happy birthday, hunny!

March 9

I asked Abby to help me wrap Adam's birthday presents for tomorrow, so we hunkered down upstairs to get the job done.

After I made a not-so-graceful entrance, she laughed and launched into a vaguely familiar monologue. Once I realized she was reciting something I'd said to her several years ago folloing a less-than-graceful maneuver of her own, we finished the last line in unison. And broke out laughing.

Laughter --and particularly laughter with my girl-- is such a big blessing.

March 8

I'm not entirely sure how it happens, but Brady always seems to wind up with huge knots in his shoelaces. And after school today, he asked me to disentangle one of said-knots for him when we arrived at the park. So that's what I did.

It was a long, arduous process that involved the use of several different fingernails and more than a few changes of foot position. More than once, I wanted to throw in the towel and tell him to just deal with the loose laces. But I persevered, and eventually, the last knot gave way and I finished the task with a flourish.

Facing challenges in this life can definitely be like untying a knotted shoelace: frustrating and time-consuming. But the satisfaction that results when we finally accomplish something big? It really does make the effort worthwhile. And for those moments of satisfaction that follow the storms, I'm grateful.

March 7

Today was devoted to reading in Brady's class, so he headed off to school with his blanket and an entire anthology of Pokemon titles in his backpack. And even after school, he still had his nose in a book as we walked back to the school to retrieve Isaac following the late bell.

It's a huge blessing that all of our kids genuinely enjoy reading. With the exception of a few tenuous months during Isaac's kindergarten year, they've all always been into it, and for the most part, they've always been good at it, too.

I know learning can be a challenge for plenty of kids out there, so I'm blessed that this is an area where ours excel.

March 6

I don't know if it's the rain or the simple fact that they're eight and 10 years old, but these two have driven me up the wall (several walls, really) of late. They're loud, crazy, and have energy to burn.

But this evening during dinner, at least they made me chuckle. I (half) jokingly said I wanted to buy a giant hamster wheel for them to use in the yard, and the suggestion was met with extraordinary enthusiasm and high-volume, animated chatter about how great it would be and could they pleasepleaseplease have one.

It was, of course, a ridiculous suggestion, but the simple fact that they took it seriously made me roll my eyes and laugh. And after a somewhat less than fun day, I was grateful for the release.

March 5

This was such an accurate in-the-moment snapshot of 14+ year old Abby that I had to stop and take a pic for posterity's sake.

She decided --at 9 PM-- that she felt like baking something, so she rifled through the pantry until she came across a package of dry cookie mix. She plunked down on the couch with her mixing bowl and proceeded to mix (and mix and mix) with her biology textbook on one side and her phone --which buzzed repeatedly to signal incoming text messages-- on the other.

Although I could deal without the teenage attitude that rears its head at times, she's a pretty great kid. And it's a great blessing to parent great kids.

March 4

Seven years later and I still look for Corvettes (and other cool vehicles, since zoom cars were oh-so-popular with my Sunshine). And today, I found one I'd been trying to hunt down for three months.

Every time I find a new Vette --especially one that is, for one reason or another, hard to find like this pink Barbie one is-- or a rare car that's not a Vette but still has cool wheels (because I tell ya, cool wheels were totally key), it's like getting a hug from Heaven. I'm sure that sounds kind of nutty, but it's true nonetheless. And I'm thankful for the nods from above -- and from my boy.

March 3

So yeah, this is a squirrel. A happy, carefree jumping squirrel.

Adam and I saw Jumpy Squirrel as we circled the Sports Park this afternoon. The skies were cloudy and released the occasional drip-drops of moisture, but it was, all in all, a pleasant stroll.

So for the blessings of nature and routine time with my hunny on a regular old Sunday afternoon in early March, I'm thankful.

March 2

This evening during dinner, we gathered in the family room to watch "Wreck it Ralph 2," which Adam picked up on a whim during our Costco run last night. It was a cute enough movie with lots of real-world references that made us chuckle and a particularly amusing take on the behind-the-scenes lives of the Disney princesses. So with all of the laughs in the rearview, I was a little surprised to find myself tearing up toward the film's end.

* If you haven't seen it and want to be surprised, stop reading now! *

So what got me? One of the movie's big focal points was the close friendship shared by Vanellope and Ralph. As the flick drew to a close, it became clear that they were going to follow different paths in life and be physically separated from one another. Ralph really struggled with letting Vanellope go, but was eventually comforted by the thought that he could trust her to continue being his friend in spite of the distance. (And they did indeed make it work.)

I admittedly feel kind of silly writing this, but given the last six months of my life, that message got me right in the heart. Our paths meander through all sorts of places and every now and then, we have the privilege of sharing the road with particularly special people who enrich our lives in extraordinary ways. Those people are so special, in fact, that even when our paths eventually twist in different directions, they still stay "with" us.

It was just a little reminder to me that different isn't necessarily bad. It's just... different. And for that truth --and for the handful of people who still choose to walk with me from a distance-- I'm thankful.

March 1

The sky this morning was so beautiful that I kept looking up as I drove Abby to school. This is a rather poor representation of the splendor, but it's what I've got:

I'm in no way, shape, or form a morning person (and in fact the idea of me actually being one of those makes me snort aloud). But I always appreciate the beauty of a sunrise sky. There's something calming and refreshing about the filtered sunlight and the clouds and the still-slightly-dark-but-lightening backdrop. It's like a visual promise of great things to come.

Or at least that's what it looks like to me. And for that beautiful reminder to just look up as I started my day, I'm thankful.