February 28

Isaac had a baseball game in Orinda this afternoon. The opposing team wound up being a wee bit (which in this case directly translates to "extremely") late to the affair, so Adam, his dad, and I ended up sitting in the outfield a bit longer than planned.

Now ordinarily that kind of flagrant disrespect for someone else's time would really bother me, but it was such a pleasant afternoon --warm temps, a light breeze, sunshine for days-- that it really didn't. In fact, it didn't even bother me that the Spartans wound up on the losing end. I just enjoyed the time outside and the chit-chat and the chance to watch Isaac play (and score three of the team's four runs. That probably helped, too).

I've said it many times before but it's still the truth: this team has been a sanity-saver for us in many ways as we've endured the COVID shut-downs. So for that ongoing blessing and for the lovely day and for the unexpected burst of grace that I experienced that kept me from getting upset over the delay, I'm grateful.

February 27

I could be mis-remembering this, but I'm 90-some percent sure that most of the ice cream I consumed as a kid came in thin, rectangular boxes that gave the deliciousness inside a distinctive boxy shape.

That's why when we were at Target a few weeks ago and Abby expressed delight over the rectangular boxes of ice cream she spied in the freezer there, I had to stop for a moment and think.

When was the last time I saw one of those boxes? My conclusion, after mulling the question for a while? A long time ago.

So today, when we were back at Target again for our usual Saturday shopping exploit, I bought one of those classic boxes of ice cream. Her amusement and my healthy shot of nostalgia were well-worth the $1.99 (a bargain, no less) that I paid. And for all of that, I am thankful.

February 26

I had to run a quick errand to the mall this afternoon. As I arrived in the parking lot, I was gratified to see an open space near the front of the aisle. 

As I slipped into said-space, I was even more gratified to realize that the coupe next door was a Corvette.

It's not that I ever stopped noticing Logan's favorite kind of car because let's face it: Vettes are made to be noticed. It's more that I got so used to noticing them that I stopped seeing them as happy little reminders of my sweet boy.

So today, I'm grateful that I remembered to appreciate one. And to re-bask in that Sunshine-y feeling.

February 25

After a very (very) long wait, Abby had her first driving lesson today. (Which means that her learner's permit is finally, finally active and she can now drive with... gulp... us.)

On the way home, I stopped in a nearby mostly empty parking lot so she could show me what she learned. Although there was resistance (and much disdain for both the push-button starter and the design of the gearshift), she (reluctantly) complied and took me for a few turns around the lot.

It's crazy (crazy) that she's 16 and learning to drive an actual car because I feel like she was just starting middle school last year. And kindergarten the year before that. And birth? That was what, like five years ago?

Time flies. But I am grateful for each moment -- and especially for the milestones.

February 24

This rather mundane scene is the corner of my desk.

When I got up this morning, it was covered with boxes and old receipts and random sheets of paper (as it had been for several months now), so this represents a vast improvement over what was.

It's not often that I find myself motivated to organize but when I do, I kinda sorta enjoy the process. And I definitely enjoy the outcome.

So tonight, I'm grateful for those little bursts of can-do energy.

February 23

I was standing by the island while Adam was making dinner (Taco Tuesday, to Brady's great delight) on the stovetop this evening when Abby appeared and put her arm around me.

We stood there together for quite a long while, chatting amongst the three of us and alternately sniffing and poking at each other. I'm sure that sounds kind of odd, but it was also very nice.

So for those moments of silly connection with my (granted only but also definitely) number one girl, I am grateful.

February 22

First off, a very happy 13th birthday to my glitter bomb of a niece Brianna! We love you so much and wish we were closer so we could celebrate with you! Your impressive stores of energy and enthusiasm are a blessing to us and (no doubt) everyone who knows you. XO!

As for me, I had the chance to catch up with Nikki for a bit this afternoon. I headed over to her house and we chatted while walking the old neighborhood. 

Any day that involves me spending minutes and hours with a good friend is a blessing, so I am grateful for her and for the time.

February 21

Adam and I took walks and Abby joined me for our usual shopping outing yesterday, but otherwise I've been a busy little crocheting bee this weekend.

I started the big grey piece and added rows to all of the others (including a few more that aren't pictured). (And yeah, it'd be good if I were as good at finishing projects as I am at beginning them. I'm working on that.)

I continue to be so thankful that I discovered this new hobby. It's both calming and it provides a creative outlet, so for those blessings, I am very grateful.

February 20

I passed by the living room early this afternoon and found Isaac and Brady entangled in a position not unlike this one, playing their respective video games.

(It's not the exact original position because they shifted in the moments it took me to go get my phone.) 

It may look like they were fighting (and truth be told, they probably did have some sort of physical conflict at some point because they so often do), but in reality, they were just being together. And although it's not always great to have someone else's feet in your personal space, I think it's a blessing to feel close enough to someone else to feel comfortable doing it. Because that kind of friendship and camaraderie is a definite blessing.

February 19

"Normal" things morph into more than normal-sized blessings when most things feel uncertain and up-in-the-air.

That's how I feel about baseball. Isaac had a practice with his tourney team this afternoon and I stayed around to chat a bit and watch the action. And though it grew chilly and the wind penetrated my sweater after the sun dropped below the hillside, I loved that bit of "normal." I loved watching Isaac and the other boys hit and run and catch and throw. And I loved how watching that ever-growing boy of mine immersed in his preferred element made me feel. 

And for all of that, I am thankful.

February 18

The sunset this evening was so lovely.

I didn't get a great view of it since Adam and I were en route to Costco during the bulk of the display, but that I did see was well-worth a long look.

So for those always-new and ever-morphing paintings in the sky, I am grateful.

February 17

Since it's Wednesday and Wednesday is, uh, well, something of a joke school-wise during COVID, I asked Abby if she wanted to walk down to the Starbucks with me this afternoon. She shoe'd and sunglass'd up and we headed out.

Wind aside, it was a beautiful, sun-soaked stroll. We took the non-aggressive (but slightly longer) path there and back again, and enjoyed some pleasant chit-chat as we sipped our treats. (Which, for the record, included an oatmeal honey latte for me --I skip all over the menu these days-- and a hot chocolate for her.)

She's already a junior and I'm conscious that she'll be in college at the end of next year, so I'm grateful for these extra moments with this smart, funny, beautiful girl of mine.

February 16

After dinner this evening, Isaac headed upstairs for his Youth Group Zoom and Abby disappeared to her room for... well, I'm not sure what. To do homework, I hope. I was mentally devising the color scheme for a new crochet project I'm itching to begin when I overheard Adam asking Brady if he wanted to go play Civ. (Or something along those lines. I don't really speak Video Game.)

So while I wore out the path between the family room (AKA the Evening Crochet Spot) and the yarn closet (AKA My Room), I half-listened to them as they worked their way through the game.

It's a relatively rare thing to see Brady without Isaac, so I thought it was nice to see the two of them get some one-on-one time together. So tonight, that's what I'm thankful for: Spontaneous Dad and Youngest Son Time.

(PS -- I keep moving the furniture in there. It'll settle into permanent places... eventually....)

February 15

It'd been a while since I'd had any visitors and a really (really) long time since I'd seen Corie, so I was happy to welcome her and her cutie daughter Melanie over this morning.

We sat out at the table by the pool and spent an hour or so catching up. Back when my kids were in her preschool classes and she was still a single lady, we spent a fair amount of time together talking, so it was wonderful to be able to reconnect in person.

So today, I'm grateful for the blessing of friendship and for how I've had the gift of watching her family grow over the years. I could not be happier for her than I am.

February 14

I got up this morning to find roses, coffee, and a truly epic amount of boxed chocolate sitting at my place at the kitchen table. (I said something to Adam about appreciating Russell Stover and Whitman's candies a few months back. Apparently the message was received.) So that's how Valentine's Day began.

It continued as a run-of-the-mill Sunday, with church and a walk around the park and some down time. The kids picked their dinner fare --Black Bear Diner-- and ate early, while Adam and I went a wee bit fancier and enjoyed our dinner from Haps rather late in the evening. (Abby snapped this pic of us for me and then dimmed the lights.) 

Anyway, it was a pleasant day, I think. It's definitely a Hallmark holiday, but it's always nice to have a specific reason to appreciate those we love just a little bit more than usual. So for that opportunity, I'm thankful.

February 13

Adam scratch-made bread to go with dinner (lasagna) tonight.

And although this isn't the best photo ever, the bread was really, really good: airy and flavorful with a nice, crispy crust on the outside. I ate way too much of it, in fact, but fortunately we had a stroll around the neighborhood after.

So tonight I'm grateful for the blessing that is having a husband who can bake! (Even though I can bake, too. :) Methinks you can never have too many good bakers in a household.)

February 12

I had a hair appointment today. (I know, call the newspapers.) 

But in all seriousness, it was the best part of my day because I got to go somewhere and spend an hour less than six feet away from someone who does not live in my house. (And she's a pretty awesome person who does amazing work to boot, so that never hurts.)

And truthfully, it felt nice to take care of me for a little while. It's always so good to walk out of a salon feeling refreshed.

So for those blessings --extravagant though they may be by practical standards-- I'm grateful.

February 11

It's amazing how quickly a random number on a calendar can become a notable date. Ten years ago, February 11 held little meaning for us: at best, it marked a mid-point between our January 11 (mine) and March 10 (Adam) birthdays. I had no idea that just a year later, it would serve as the single-worst day of my life. And that it would morph into a day of remembrance and reflection for my family.

As far as those days of remembrance go, today was a gentle one, as the past several have been. And I think that's because on this date in particular, we're buoyed by the prayers of people who knew (or just knew of) Logan and remember him. And I can't tell you how much that means to me: that even though it's been nine years since he departed this life, people still remember. And sometimes they even tell me how his life impacted theirs.

So yes, it was an okay enough day. Adam and I donated blood early this afternoon, and while there I had a lovely chat about kids and faith with an RN named Cynthia. From there it was lunch from the Bagel Cafe near downtown Pleasanton, and some downtime at home which featured Adam making chocolate chip cookies. Later-afternoon saw us head to the cemetery in the rain to leave a new car (DJ this time, which Abby picked out at the store earlier this week) before swinging through the Dairy drive-through for some Frosty Cones. (Which seemed ridiculous in the rain, but Logan was all about the ridiculous so it seemed apropos.) And then we closed out the day with a showing of Cars before sitting down to spaghetti and meatballs.

Now it's mostly quiet and I realize that though I have my down days and I'm not yet where I will be some day, I'm also not where I was. That's a blessed truth. I could sit here and marinate in my thoughts longer, but I think the Facebook post I made this morning sums up my feelings quite well, so here it is: 

Nine years. Nine long, all-too-human years without this face, this laugh, this larger-than-life presence. It could easily be far too much for my frail heart to bear.

But today --especially today-- the words from John 16:33, which read "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" rise up in my heart. Our earthly dances may have been few, but the Heavenly ones... those are still to come. And that is cause for celebration.

February 10

I wandered around the house looking for the Brositos this afternoon and eventually found them out back. 

Brady (who did get dressed today but had already taken his shower so was wearing pajamas a smidge early) was aggressively pushing Isaac in the hammock.

I stood and watched them for a few moments from the window until it dawned on me that the pushes were so aggressive that it could've toppled Isaac from his perch. So I stepped outside and reminded Brady to take it easy.

Just an everyday kind of snapshot, I guess. But Isaac and Brady are precious and the yard is something of an oasis, so the whole scene just makes me feel a sense of gratitude.

February 9

Isaac had a Youth Group Zoom meeting tonight so Brady did as he often does when his big bro is unavailable: he wandered around with his buddies Chub (pronounced Choob) and BearBear and tried to figure out what to do with himself.

He laid on the couch for a short time and then, much to my surprise, announced that he was going to go clean up his desk. And then he put Chub and BearBear on a chair and scampered upstairs to get to work.

And he really did do it: he came downstairs several times with armfuls of old papers and chucked them in the kitchen trash can. 

Cleaning up isn't the end-all, be-all of everything, but it sure is a blessing when my kiddos do it all on their own.

February 8

I haven't slept well for several days now so I tried to "catch up" as best I could this afternoon. When I finally did emerge from the bedroom, I found Isaac and Brady sitting in the new recliner in the family room taking in an episode of "American Ninja Warrior." (No school today, hence the PJs.)

I watched them for a minute and then pulled out my phone to memorialize the sweet moment. Brady glanced over and saw me and spoiled my stealthy plan to his Brosito (because for some reason, I've taken to calling them The Brositos. I have no idea why but it makes me chuckle when I say it so there ya go) so they both smiled. For real.

I just love watching them grow up together. They're way too loud most of the time (no need for a megaphone in this house) and they definitely fight, but they always work it out. And witnessing them as they forge that enduring kind of friendship is a blessing to me.

February 7

Abby and I went on a quest this afternoon: the Queso Quest.

Okay, so my original plan was to buy Super Bowl snacks for the game-viewing male-folk, but it became the Queso Quest when trips to multiple stores turned up plenty of potato chips, ranch dip, and sour cream and onion dip but zero cheese dip. Seriously, nary a jar. But I knew I had to press on because I could hear Brady's cute kid-voice echoing in my mind, asking me if we had any melty cheese so he could make real nachos.

So we persevered, and in the end, at the very last store I could think of, we came away with what was literally the very last container of plain old queso.

It's such a tiny detail and God would still be good even if we hadn't found it, but it's super sweet that we did. And for that, I am grateful.

February 6

The kiddos got their "good report card" ice cream from Coldstone today.

Because even though the report cards weren't quite as "good" as they are usually (because they've set the bar high, high, high), they made it through a very challenging semester and very less-than-ideal educational circumstances. 

And for that not-small blessing, I'm grateful.

February 5

The recliner for the family room arrived this morning. Although no one heard the delivery guy at the door, we were very pleased to find that this go-round, our heavy item had been dragged to the stop of the flight of stairs rather than left at the bottom.

Isaac has become Adam's go-to guy for moving heavy boxes, so the two of them worked together to maneuver it into the house. And as I sit here watching an old episode of "Columbo," the chair sits across the room from me.

So tonight I'm grateful for the blessing of furniture (and more seating! Yay!) and for strong people who can lug it inside.

February 4

This is the coffee table I picked out for our family room.

It's a little hard to tell, but it's designed kind of like a Trivial Pursuit wheel: there are four wedge seats nestled underneath. So we have plenty of extra seating.

Although we can't use those chairs right now, when I look at my table, I look forward to the day when we will be able to have people over to use them.

And that thought gives me a sense of hope.

February 3

One of my ongoing projects is organizing the thousands of kid-photos we've amassed over the past 16+ years into individual albums. (And trust me, between sports pics and dance pics and birthday pics and so on, "thousands" may well be an underestimate.) The process has been a slow one and I hadn't worked on them at all for a few weeks until tonight (after the order of 5x7 photo sleeves I needed to continue arrived from Amazon).

So this evening, I separated, scanned, and album'ed all of Abby's school pictures. (Except for kindergarten. I have no idea where that particular envelope is but I'll find it eventually!) 

It was amazing to lay them all out on the floor in our room and realize how much she's grown (and stayed the same) over the years; to see her spring from preschooler to elementary schooler to middle schooler to high school junior, all in one sweeping glance.

It's may be bittersweet, but it's a truly beautiful thing to have a front row seat to someone else's formative years.

February 2

It's strange to think that after 15 years of candy hearts and little cards, we're coming down to our last few class Valentine's Day parties. Brady's party look different this year, of course, but his teacher is still gathering cards and will distribute them later this week at material pickup day (to be opened only after they've been quarantined for a week, of course).

I asked Brady if he knew what kind of cards he wanted to give out (nope) or if he even had a preference (nope), so I scanned the offerings at Walmart until I saw Super Mario Brothers. Perfecto.

Then he spent part of this afternoon at the kitchen island signing and then taping a Dum-Dum lollipop to each card.

Yep, it'll be a different kind of celebration this year, but I'm thankful that it's happening at all. It may be a Hallmark holiday, but it's awfully nice to spread a little love.

February 1

When we were in college, we went to the pilot taping for That 70s Show. (I know, weird, right? The actors were just unknowns back then.) Anyway, while we were there, Adam received special notice for his booming laugh. And that laugh was on display again this evening in our family room while we watched footage of the giant pandas belly-whopping in the snow at the National Zoo.

Laughter is almost always a cup-filler for me, and his genuine laugh is so distinctive and loud and he gets so into it that it's almost impossible to not laugh right along with him.

So today, I'm grateful for the sound of and the lightness of heart that accompanies a good giggle.