May 31

I took this one picture today because I thought it was kind of fun. So here it is: Abby and I at Lowe's, picking up some support stakes for my pea plants.

But it's not really what's on my heart tonight. What's on --and breaking-- my heart is the degree of division in this world. It's the way that we fail to stand up for one another when wrongs are committed and the way we fail to be Jesus to those around us. (And when I say "we", I'm absolutely including myself. I'm not innocent.)

So tonight... just pray for better. Pray that every single one of us will make the individual choice to do better and to be better. And then tomorrow or the day after, when God shows you how you can do better (because He will), act.

May 30

Our exceptionally thoughtful friend Nancy always remembers Logan's special days. Back in February of this year, she brought us a plant (as she often has in the past) in a pot with his name on it. What she may not know is that we have a history of killing houseplants, so I wasn't super optimistic that this one would survive. It did okay at first, but slowly, over time, it turned brown and seemed to be following the usual doom-related pattern. So imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen this evening and noticed this reflected in the window:

A beautiful, brand new buttery yellow bloom. I pulled the pot down from the shelf, carefully rotated the flower until it faced front, picked out the dead pieces, and found yet another bud that's probably a few days from opening.

As I put it back in its place, I said a quiet thank you to God, because this plant served as a good reminder that even things that seem dried out, finished, and even dead can come to life again.

May 29

Today marked the end of another school year. It was, of course, something of an unconventional final day since instead of the usual hugs and photos with teachers and a noon-time pizza buffet out, it was a last-day drive-by parade at the elementary school and Mountain Mike's pizza at home for lunch. And a stop by the old house to take our final last-day-of-school by-the-door photos (which we later followed with pictures by our brand new door, too, just so I'll have a clean transition to look back on one day).

It was also different because today marked the end of our 11-year stint at Mohr Elementary. Our kiddos learned a lot during their time at that school and we were blessed with some wonderful teachers, but we made the decision to move Brady to our new neighborhood school for the Fall.

As we drove away from the parade, I heard sniffling all around me and realized that all three kids were in tears. In spite of my own mixed feelings about the school and about how my tenure as PTA President turned out, I felt emotion rising in my throat, too, but didn't say much about it other than to remind them all to remember the good times but to look forward to what's to come. Because good things are indeed in store for them and for us. And for that truth, I'm thankful.

May 28

The school year formally ends tomorrow, and tonight our court celebrated a pair of eighth grade "graduates" with a cupcake-and-wine infused socially distanced gathering.

I've really (really) missed talking with friends (heck, even acquaintances and strangers would fit the bill at this point) so I was primed and ready to go when one of the neighbors suggested the idea last week. But then today, as we all gathered in the street together and applauded Evan and Adam's promotion to high school, my heart silently protested Logan's absence. Because he too should be finishing eighth grade. And it all felt just so wretchedly unfair all over again.

But that's the thing: it is wretchedly unfair. It's always wretchedly unfair and nothing will change that truth. But in the moments when the weight of that injustice weighs on my heart, I'm grateful that God makes great things come from tragedies. And I hold on to hope that He will do just that with the partially-sewn, ripped-and-repaired patchwork quilt that is me.

May 27

Sometimes Abby cracks me up. Much of the time, actually. I took her with me when I went to get dinner this evening. This is where I found her when I headed down to the garage to leave.

Yep. She just stood there behind the door looking like a weirdo. I chuckled when I saw her and told her that I knew she wasn't in the garage because the light wasn't on, and she shook her head in feigned annoyance.

Yep, she cracks me up. And for that, I'm thankful.

May 26

Dancing is not Adam's thing, so I was super duper proud of him when he agreed to do the Father/Daughter dance class with Abby this spring. He dutifully attended each class before we went into shelter in place mode, and since then has dutifully attended each Zoom class, too. Tonight marked the close of the "regular" season, so they wore their recital costumes to class. (Well, costumes sans shoes. We don't wear shoes in our house.)

I haven't seen their routine because every time the music starts to play, Abby nags me until I leave the room, but every now and then I hear them laughing and I always hear them galloping around on the wood floor. And it makes me smile.

These two don't have much time together these days, but I'm grateful for the relationship they share, because it's an important one to have in this life.

May 25

At 11:40 this morning, I headed up to the deck in the back yard. I knew there was a plane scheduled to fly over the medical center to commemorate Memorial Day and to honor first responders, and I wondered if I'd be able to see it. Fortunately for me, right on time, at 11:42, I saw it fly into view, bank sharply, and then fly off to my right.

I don't have any pretty words today because there's nothing pretty about war and there's nothing beautiful about the deep, impossible pain of saying a far-too-early farewell to a loved one.

So for those who have given all in the name of our freedom, I am grateful.

May 24

We really hit the shave ice shops hard when we're on Kaua'i, so last Christmas, Adam asked for a shave ice machine. And his parents gave him one (along with many bottles of flavoring, cups, and straws). It's comically large, so it sat in its box in the garage at our old house and we weren't sure when we'd get the chance to use it. Now, of course, we have a built-in BBQ area, and with temperatures expected to soar up to 100 this week, he set it up and we had our first taste of its icy goodness.

School officially ends this coming Friday, so it was a slightly premature hello to summer, complete with pool time for the boys and more gardening for me. (And a comical video report for Abby for her English class. Her teacher has no idea what's in store for him.)

This isn't Hawai'i, of course, but it was so sweet to have access to a taste of the island that's been such a big part of our collective experience there. So for that, I'm grateful.

May 23

It was a lovely afternoon to have a pool, so my boys spent a few hours enjoying ours (after extensive Saturday chores for Adam and video games for Isaac and Brady).

I didn't really watch them because I was busy aerating the (very) hard dirt in the garden beds, transplanting teeny tiny tomato plants into outdoor vessels (since it's supposed to be really hot next week and tomatoes love heat), and then watching TV, but every now and then, I could hear the sweet, ringing sound of laughter. And that's always music to my ears.

May 22

With a few trays full of rapidly growing seedlings on the patio off our bedroom and lining the punch-out window in the kitchen, I headed out this morning in search of the one thing I was missing to make large-scale transplantation possible: plant stakes and ties.

Fortunately Lowe's had a few (and by a few I mean a few) of each, so I scooped 'em up and headed home with my garden'y treasures. And a few hours later, I'd successfully dug up the (very) hard dirt in (part of) one of my three planter boxes and transplanted a host of pea plants (to the right) and some bean plants (to the left).

I don't know how they'll do out there, but I'm hopeful that they'll take root and grow and be fruit(bean)ful in a month and a half or so. And when I think about that in broader terms, I realize that on an ideal day, that's how I try to live my life: I try to plant seeds --do the right things, be kind, be responsive, be a good friend-- and hope (and pray) that the seeds I plant will take root and grow. Of course I have no control over whether or not those seeds will yield fruit, but I do my job by planting them and praying that they will. And on the days when I feel like I'm not enough and it's not enough, I tell myself that it is, because, when it comes down to the brassiest of the brass tacks, the truth is that praying is the most you can do.

May 21

One of the entertaining things about moving into a house that has an actual yard is not knowing what's going to bloom where or when. So I was gratified when these popped up near the pool not long ago.

Most of what's sprouted has been either white or red, so the vibrant yellow and orange was a pleasant surprise for me. Anything that (literally) makes the world brighter is a blessing.

May 20

My plan all along was to let Isaac and Brady plant some flower seeds, but it's such a calming activity for me that every time I bought soil and starter supplies, I wound up taking on the task by myself. But I, at long last, managed to keep my fingers out of the dirt, and they were able to plant some wildflowers (Brady) and marigolds (Isaac) before bed this evening.

We've never had much outside land to work with, so the two of them know almost nothing about how growing plants from seeds works. Given that gardening was such a big part of my life when I was their age, I feel blessed to (finally) be able to share the experience with them now. (And hopefully they'll enjoy the upkeep process once those flowers sprout and bloom!)

May 19

Taco Tuesday has, it seems, become a Thing at our house. And playing hands of cards after dinner has become another Thing, as have bizarre, post-dinner, during-card-games BearBear-led sing-a-longs to various country music hits. Tonight's inspiration was Luke Bryan's Play it Again.

I've said this before and I'll probably keep saying it because it will continue to be true, but these are weird times. (I know. Duh.) And though I certainly miss aspects of my "normal" life, I'm enjoying (and admittedly sometimes just attempting to enjoy) all of this extra time with my people -- especially Abby. She'll be halfway through high school in just a week and a half, and I know what's left of our time with her is limited, so all of the moments --even the weird BearBear ones that leave me simultaneously scratching my head and laughing-- are a treasure.

May 18

I did a little bit of shopping today; nothing glam since just about everything is still closed 'round these parts -- just Walmart and Target. And then I went by the other house to try to make a little progress with the clean-up and clean-out process, and was surprised when I came across this:

It's my high school class ring. It was tucked inside an old jewelry box I hadn't opened in ages, and I was shocked to see it since I'd given it up for lost about 15 years ago.

I slipped it onto my finger and was gratified to find that it still fits. I've certainly changed a lot since high school and goodness knows that those were far from the best days of my life, but I was still happy to see it again because the good memories I do have? Those are the ones that flickered through my mind as I slowly spun it around the base of my finger: endless rounds of Capitalism on Cowboy John's bus #925, evening rides along quiet country back roads, late Friday nights getting Silver Chips (the high school newspaper that I co-edited with the amazingly level-headed Anya our senior year) ready to go to press.

No, not all of the days were good and some were just plain bad and hard. But today, I'm thankful that my ring triggered thoughts of the best ones.

May 17

We took part in our first-ever drive-by birthday parade today. Audrey --the birthday girl-- is one of the kids' long-time friends from church, so we were happy to swing through with our well-wishes.

I'm sure that shelter-in-place birthdays aren't all that much fun for kids --even as an adult, I think it would be a bummer to be stuck at home-- but I loved watching Audrey smile and laugh and wave as each car passed her driveway. Her reactions were so sweet and pure and joyful that they brought me an unexpected jolt of joy.

So happy 11th birthday, Audrey! Today, I'm thankful that God chose to create you and that we were able to be there to help you celebrate -- even if only for a minute.

May 16

Abby wanted some ice cream last night so I went to the grocery store to get some. (Because sometimes I'm nice like that.) I came home with two of her picks --chocolate and strawberry-- and one of my own: raspberry chip.

I'm not exactly sure when I'd last had raspberry ice cream, but when I saw it, I knew I had to have it. And when I got that first taste, it took me back to those hot, humid, lazy summer days at the County Fair. See, the ice cream place there had this totally delicious flavor that was either raspberry or blackberry --the precise details are stuck in the cobwebs of my mind-- and whenever I could have some, I did.

So today, I'm grateful for little things that take me back to simpler times.

May 15

Adam came into the kitchen at a little after 11 this morning and found the rest of us seated around the table. He stopped, surveyed the scene, and remarked "my family during the age of COVID19."

It was an obvious observation, but also an astute one, because it was so true. So this is a slice of our current life, preserved for the future: me on my laptop, Brady playing a video game while eating a massive bowl of Capn' Crunch, Isaac playing a different video game while eating his own massive bowl of Capn' Crunch, Abby researching sloth bears on her phone, and BearBear leering at me. (Kidding. She was researching sloth bears and "animals most likely to cut me" yesterday, not today. Side note: Look up sloth bears. They're terrifying.)

Anyhow, this situation we're all dealing with isn't ideal at all, but we're making the best of it. And I'm thankful for the bonus moments with these people, even if some of the moments push me to the brink of insanity, because even at 42, I'm still learning something new and growing from those difficult hours and minutes. And ultimately, that will make me a better person, and becoming a better person is totally where it's at.

May 14

My kiddos discovered a rather annoying truth this morning: even if we own a Chromebook, using it to log into a school district Gmail-enabled account before logging into a personal Gmail account will preclude you from ever logging into said personal account. (That's a mouthful, I know. Sorry.) So they all huddled around Brady's machine in the kitchen, pooling their brain power to figure out how to fix the issue.

It was Abby who finally came up with the solution to the problem, but it was so sweet to seem them standing there like a little united front as they tried to overcome the challenge. They fight like virtually all siblings do, but it's a blessing to see them together.

May 13

The sunset tonight was beautiful.

No real words today; just the picture. Because this picture says far more about the majesty of God than I ever could.

May 12

It was a slow day. Just work for the workers and cleaning for me, so not a lot to share. Just now I was walking by the dining room and spied this on the table. I had it made a few weeks ago and at some point, I'll figure out where I want it to go:

It's a mid-sized wall hanging at 16x20, and I'm thinking it'll probably go in the dining room when all is said and done.

I'm sharing it partly because I don't have anything else to share and partly because it's some of our decor and we can't have anyone over to see it in person yet. But mostly because I'm proud of these people, and am blessed that I share not just a photo collage but a home with them.

May 11

Way back when Adam and I were dating and shortly after we got married, his extended family would have big gatherings at his parents' cabin in the Sierras. While there, we'd sit at a big, long table and play many, many hands of cards. Recent history has seen us following suit(e), as after dinner, the kids have been asking to play Hearts of Seven Up before they head off to bed.

It's actually fun since they're all old enough to understand the rules and to engage in strategic play. Sometimes I can almost see the wheels cranking in their heads.

So though I still don't enjoy that we're still in SIP-mode, I'm thankful for those games and for the time with my people.

May 10

It was, all in all, a lovely Mother's Day.

I had breakfast-and-gifts in bed at a not-too-insanely-early hour, church, time by myself while Adam took the kiddos for a socially distant visit with his mom, calls to my own mom and grandma, a walk around the neighborhood, Zachary's pizza (and champagne for me) for dinner, and a few rounds of 7-Up. So a full but good day.

These are, without doubt, some of the best people I know, and I don't think I say that just because I "produced" them. I say it because they're genuinely kind, caring, empathetic people who try to do the right things. And I am beyond blessed to be their mother -- all four of them.

May 9

If you've known me for a little while, you're likely aware that gardening was a big part of my life when I was growing up. We had huge gardens that produced a variety of veggies and flowers. One of my earliest memories involves sitting between rows and rows of fledgling plants, finding and squishing bugs with my fingers. (And yes, that idea now grosses me out. What can I say? I was something of a barefoot, scabby-kneed, dirt-under-the-fingernails country kid.)

Save tending to (and harvesting a bounty of fruit from) a few volunteer tomato plants at our last house, I've not done much gardening in recent history, but as I surveyed our new yard a few days ago, I realized that we have a lot (lot) more space here for growing things, including a set of currently-empty planter boxes. So I got to work.

I planted two types of tomatoes, lima beans, green beans, peas, and bell peppers. I'm not exactly starting at the right time, but we'll see what happens. So far, this is some of what's sprouted. And I'm happy with it.

There's something so beautiful and spirit-nourishing about watching a seed sprout and reach toward the sky. It's truly miraculous that an entire sustenance-producing plant can spring forth from something so tiny; from something that can look so dead. So for this reminder that miracles come in tiny (and often inconspicuous) packages and that even things that seem utterly lifeless can thrive once again, I'm thankful.

May 8

Our move has been very, very gradual, partly because we can't have anyone else move into our old house anytime soon anyway, partly because I'm dragging my feet because moving sucks, and partly because it can be hard to come across items that trigger specific memories of times gone by. But a few days ago, I finally had Adam hang some photos in our entry way. Here they are:

These canvas prints --all of me with our kids at the pumpkin patch at about the same age-- previously hung in our dining room. As I was surveying the space here the other day, my gaze settled on that particular spot and I knew that's where they belonged.

So that's one bit of decorating down with a lot more to go. (Our giant family photo and a large collage I made using photos from that same amazing session last fall arrived this week, in fact.) But I'm grateful to have one in place, because I want this home to really fully feel like home, and we had to start somewhere.

May 7

On the surface, this looks like a plain old picture of Isaac and Brady by the pool.

But in reality, I snapped this image when they were in the middle of a rip-roarin' argument. I heard them squabbling from inside the house (which was no small thing since it was hot out today and the windows were closed at the time) and went out to check on them. I'm not sure what the problem was but the important thing is that I was able to defuse it. And a few minutes later, I went back inside and they went back to swimming together -- peacefully.

I'm like almost all moms in that I routinely feel insufficient and like I'm just not enough. So today, I'm letting this photo remind me that despite my insecurities, I am enough of a mom for my kids because this time, I was able to help resolve a problem. And for that (not) tiny bit of reassurance, I'm grateful.

May 6

While Adam and I strolled this lovely, temperate evening, we came upon this little guy:

In case it's not obvious, it's a wee poppy plant that opted to pop up in a sidewalk joint. Beautiful but definitely out of place, which was a lovely reminder that sometimes, beautiful things don't always show up where we think they should show up. Sometimes they're just... there. And all we need to do is appreciate and be thankful for their existence.

May 5

When I ordered some hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works a few weeks ago, I thought the stuff I was ordering was plain old pink. So imagine the jolt of glee that my glitter-loving self felt when I opened the package and found this and her four equally sparkly sisters nestled inside:

It's admittedly a very, very simple thing, but it was such a happy surprise for me that I actually did a little celebratory dance around my kitchen island.

It really is easy to let the little blessings in life go by without notice, so I'm glad I appreciated this itty bitty one.

May 4

Today was, blessedly, much better than yesterday. I kept myself busy with a stroll with Abby, a trip to Walmart, a swing through the Mother Ship drive-thru, a stop at the old house, cleaning, and package-opening (because my latest Amazon investment --the complete original "Magnum PI" series on DVD-- arrived today as did my Bath and Body Works soap order, woohoo!). And then this evening, Adam and I went to Costco, where we got a cheesy pizza for dinner.

Adam was initially annoyed when I popped the box open out on the patio table and discovered that cheesy pizza inside because he'd ordered pepperoni. (Because he doesn't care so much for plain old cheese.) But I smiled internally, because cheese was always Logan's favorite. Especially Costco cheese pizza.

So tonight I'm grateful for all of the good, busy parts of today and for the food court gaffe that made me give my Sunshine a few extra thoughts.

May 3

You know those days when life just feels big and heavy and overwhelming, like one of those snowsuits your parents force you to wear when you're three that makes you look like an overstuffed polar bear? Today was one of those for me. I don't really know why; it just was. So it was extra sweet when my baby gave me a big, entirely unsolicited squeeze this evening after dinner.

Of all of my kids, Brady is the one who's probably most likely to start brawl in a locker room some day (and I know that sounds terrible but, well, it's true) so it was a bit surprising when he spied me standing by the desk just outside the kitchen and wrapped his little arms around my waist. I hugged him back, and pulled my cardigan around him so I could fully envelope his sweetness for a few moments.

Not all of life is good, that's for sure. But there are blessed moments mixed in with the not-go-great ones. And I'm thankful for them, even on my more forgettable days.

May 2

Adam's parents came over today to drop off some belated birthday gifts to Adam and I (and, of course, to see our house). So they gave it a quick once-through and then we headed out to the yard, where they checked out the view and then we settled around the table (in distanced style, of course) for some spice cake cupcakes baked by Abby.

It was something of a big deal because we've been here for a month now and they were our first-ever visitors. Had things gone differently, they'd have been here on day one, I'm guessing, and I'd have been able to host a bunch of friends for drinks around the pool.

But, of course, things are as they are. So today, I'm choosing to be thankful that we finally had the chance to share our home with someone else.

May 1

I love our new street.

We're all a bit (lots of bits really) stir-crazy, so a few of our neighbors emailed the group list (there's a group list!) to suggest a socially distanced get-together tonight in the court. So we all brought our folding (or dining room) chairs, some of us brought our glasses of wine, and we enjoyed a lovely evening of laughter and chit-chat.

It did my isolated heart so much good to realize that we've moved on to a street comprised of great people and to spend a little time with them. So today, I'm thankful for good evenings.