May 31

We've had a bag of lemons from my lovely friend Jenny sitting on the counter for a few weeks, so I had Abby look up recipes. 

And on this 100-degree day, with her behind the wheel of Adam's truck (since she doesn't like my car), we headed to the store on an ingredient hunt. On the way back, we swung by the Mother Ship for some refreshments.

And then when we got home, Abby got to work zesting a lemon and then baked up a loaf cake with sticky sweet lemony frosting.

I'm beyond amazed that this "little girl" of mine will graduate from high school in a year, so I am grateful for these little moments.

May 30

Adam came home from his parents' house one day with his childhood art portfolio in tow. 

It sat in the family room behind one of the couches until today, when he decided to take us on a visual tour of his artistic talent (prior to throwing it all out. I did suggest that he take photos of it all, but the jury's still out on whether that'll happen).

Although the lion he's holding is probably the best of the bunch, it was quite a kick to see all of those bits of his past. We definitely chuckled our way through the presentation, but it was still neato to see more pieces of the Adam-puzzle. So for those pieces of the past (and for the amusement they provide), I am thankful.

May 29

There was nothing remarkable about today; sans the baseball games that have marked most of our early weekend moments throughout the spring, it was really just a Regular Old Saturday.

It was a Regular Old Saturday that featured blue skies and sunshine and a sweatshirt-or-shorts comfortable 70ish degree temp.

It was a Regular Old Saturday that saw Isaac's last Blue Team practice of the season while Adam and I walked the Sports Park loop (and then settled in to watch the boys laugh as they hit tennis ball homeruns).

It was a Regular Old Saturday that involved Abby and I going on one of our customary weekend shopping excursions (and today's included a stop at Wendy's for Frosties, although I went with cold brew coffee with Frosty creamer which wound up being delicious. Just in case you wanted to know).

It was a Regular Old Saturday with the boys in the pool and Abby getting in some driving practice (including a stint on the freeway!) with Adam and dinner out back in the waning light of the late afternoon sun.

Yep, 'twas just a Regular Old Saturday, but now that I look back on it, it was pretty wonderful. So for another regular Saturday, I am grateful.

May 28

Today was the last day of this undeniably wacky school year: the last day of junior year for Abby, the last day of 7th grade for Isaac, and the last day of 4th grade for Brady. 

And honestly, it was a bittersweet kind of day for me.

See, this fall, all three of them will begin "last years". The last year of elementary school for Brady. The last year of middle school for Isaac. And most mind-blowingly, the last year of high school for Abby. 

Now don't get it twisted: I'm absolutely thrilled for them and for their futures and I cannot wait to watch as God unfolds His no-doubt awesome plans for their lives. But it's a lot to watch ONE child transition from one school to another; from one phase of life to the next. But THREE at once... just the thought is utterly overwhelming to this girl who isn't real big on change.

And on top of that, I have to contend with the always hard truth that Logan "should" be here but isn't; that the one kid who would've --as either a 9th or 10th grader in the fall-- not been in the midst of a major transitional year won't be here to help keep me grounded. And I expect that as we celebrate all of those milestones as the year progresses, I'll feel the reality of that loss even more keenly than usual. Because although celebrations are still wonderful, they're also permanently bittersweet.

But anyway, school's out. The summer awaits. They're continuing to grow (and in Isaac's case, grow and grow and grow, it seems). And for those not-small blessings, I am so grateful.

May 27

It was a largely quiet next-to-last day of school. As I left (and returned and left and returned) for school drop-offs and pick-ups, I kept seeing Adam's windshield and reflecting that it's an interesting sign of the times. So here it is.

In a nutshell, it's chock-full of mass vaccination-site info. The time in the lower left-hand corner was the time Isaac could leave after he received his first dose. The big pink '5' was the lane Adam was assigned to for Isaac's shot. And the 11:50 above the 5 was the time that Adam could leave after his second shot.

It's all an oddity. And hopefully, prayerfully, all of these numbers and the numbers on lots of other car windshields around town are signs that things are returning to a more normalized state. Because after nearly a year and a half of COVD, normal would be a massive blessing.

May 26

It's the last week of school. Although Abby had a final this morning so she had to go in, the boys had essentially nothing to do. So after they mulled their options for a while (and, in Isaac's case, after he'd eaten half a box of Life cereal while sitting on the kitchen floor), they decided to do something artistic.

So they parked at the dining room table and, with their favorite animals watching, they got to work. Isaac drew the life cycle of a Pokemon character, while Brady created a 3D version of a Bulbasaur (which is also a Pokemon character). 

The quiet was wonderful. The creativity on display was wonderful. And I am grateful for all of the wonderful-ness.

May 25

It was a divide-and-conquer Tuesday because both Isaac and Brady had games this evening at different fields. Adam shuttled Brady to the Sports Park and watched as the A's scored a victory, while I accompanied Isaac to a close-but-no-cigar outcome match-up between Blue and Livermore at the sports complex across town.

It was a beautiful day for baseball, so I was happy to sit there in the sun watching my almost 13-year old do his thing once again as the sun began its daily descent toward the hills. 

They may not have won every game this season, but it's always been a joy to watch them play. And I am grateful.

May 24

I was out back examining my seedlings early this afternoon when I made a happy discovery:

The bell pepper plant that appeared to come back from the dead --it turned entirely brown and grey last fall, but slowly, gradually sprouted new leaves this spring-- has several flower buds. It's going to produce peppers again.

I guess as a lifelong fan of gardening I probably should've realized that bell peppers can be perennials if they're treated properly during the "off season," but given that I'd never had success growing any until last summer and I did absolutely nothing to winterize the little guy, this is a pleasant surprise (and kinda sorta miraculous turn of events) for me. 

Beyond all of that, the presence of those little flowers reinforces an all-important, life-giving truth that Jesus came to share with us: He can --and will!-- breathe new life into things that seem dead, into situations that feel hopeless, into jams that we just can't escape under our own power. And for that mighty bit of good news, I am so grateful.

May 23

Isaac hit his first-ever homerun today, and it also happened to be the first-ever homerun hit by the Spartans. 

He sent the ball sailing over the fence in left field during his first at-bat of the game against the 12u Orinda Renegades. And then he joyfully did the trot around the bases --he's the blurry figure rounding third in the red helmet, grey pants, and high socks-- before hitting home and returning to the dugout. 

Adam jumped up almost immediately and headed to the area beyond the fence to retrieve the ball for posterity's sake, so Isaac John Hancocked it when we got home and stored it away with his other important baseballs.

Since he never got a Majors season thanks to COVID and never really got the chance to be the big fish in the little pond, so to speak, Isaac had been eager to hit a homer for a long time. So I was so happy to see him finally get it done today, especially given that he did it on the heels of a fairly long slump at the plate. (And in fact, he was on fire today in general, because he followed up the homer with a single, a double, a hit by pitch, and a deep flyout to left in what wound up being a very lopsided final score in the Spartans' favor. So he finally got to see the fruit of his slump-busting efforts.)

So yes: today I am thankful that I got to see him reap the benefits of his practice and hard work. And I'm also thankful for every second of joy that playing baseball gives him -- and us.

May 22

Isaac and Brady's games were at essentially the same time this morning, so I took Brady to the Sports Park and Adam ferried Isaac to Livermore. 

I perched on the top row of the bleachers and popped in my earbuds so I could join Taylor's virtual bridal shower during the game. (Anyone who saw me on-screen probably thought I looked pretty weird as I  alternated between looking at my phone and smiling and cheerly aggressively for our wee A's. But that's neither here nor there because I showed up for both events simultaneously. So boom.)

Anyway, I don't have any grand reflections to share, so I won't make one up. Instead, I'll just say that I am thankful that it was a lovely day outside and that I once again had the chance to see one of my kiddos play ball. 

May 21

Brady had a game tonight and Isaac had practice, so when Abby said she wanted to make dinner, we said to have at it. (Since we're not crazy and all.)

She picked a recipe she wanted to try (a spin on chicken parmesan) and we made an ingredient run after school this afternoon.

And then this evening, while the rest of us were out baseball'ing it, she got to work in the kitchen. 

In the end, it took a bit longer than planned, but she did a great job and (this is probably the most shocking part) everyone ate the fruits of her labor.

So tonight, I am grateful for a daughter who's willing to cook (in addition to the son who's willing to clean. A dynamic duo in the making for sure).

May 20

When my kiddos were wee, they loved Puffs. I can still see their sticky fingers cautiously plucking them from the palm of my hand.

And truth be told, I really liked them, too. They're light and airy and crunchy and tasty so I always had to stop myself from taking a handful whenever I opened up a new container for one of them.

So when I saw these on sale for 50 cents each at the store today, I knew I had to get some. For myself. So I did, and I popped a can open as soon as I got home and enjoyed that airy, crunchy, relatively low-calorie goodness all over again.

Maybe I should be embarrassed to admit that I love a toddler food, but I do. And I'm not. And in fact, today I am thankful for re-discovered deliciousness obtained for a stellar price.

May 19

When I got home from an appointment early this afternoon, I found the contents of the pantry lined up alongside the kitchen cabinets and a still-pajamaed Isaac sweeping a pile of random debris into the center of the room. Then he picked up the vacuum and with a quick zoop, the mess was gone. I was stunned to silence by the scene.

When I got over my surprise and asked what he was doing, he gave me a "duh, mom" look and replied with an obvious "I'm cleaning the pantry." And then he turned his attention back to his task and moved an errant box of cereal to a different shelf.

When I asked why he was cleaning the pantry, he shrugged and said he was bored and needed something to do. 

I was dumbstruck. A nearly 13-year old boy with a computer, a phone, a video game system, baseball equipment, and a pool in his yard decided --completely on his own-- that cleaning out and re-organizing a walk-in pantry would be the best way to spend four hours of his time.

When I regained my senses, I thanked him for his hard work. (And I thanked him again later because he did a legitimately fabulous job. Seriously, I think it looks better now than it did when we moved in last year. Even Abby saw it and told him that he did an epic job. Getting those props from his big sister is probably the biggest reward of all for him.) I am so thankful for who he is and for his wonderfully good heart. He is a blessing.

May 18

It's always striking to me when something completely mundane jogs a salient memory. And that's just what happened this afternoon when I spied this in the refrigerated section of the local Grocery Outlet store.

Yup, it's a container of cottage cheese with pineapple. Glam, huh?

But seriously, the second I saw it, I felt my hand open the case, reach in, and retrieve it because I just had to taste it again. Why? Because I can distinctly remember eating bowls of cottage cheese with pineapple at my grandma's house. I can remember the taste, of course, but better yet, I can remember the feeling of being there in that kitchen way back in the '80s. Back when I was just a kid.

So for those memories (and honestly, for the genius who invented cottage cheese with pineapple because that stuff is good), I am grateful. 

May 17

I've always adored this photo, so I think I've unconsciously looked for a way to display it since it was taken back in 2008.

When I found what felt like the perfect frame for it last week during a stroll through Hobby Lobby, I didn't hesitate to tote it to the register. And then when I got home, I dug through the bin of photo envelopes in the attic until I found the picture, mounted it, and... voila. I'm still not sure where it'll hang, but it's going to go somewhere prominent because it deserves to be seen.

The plain truth that it's a picture of Logan and me is a big part of why I like it so much, but it's not the only reason. I also like it because it shows how excited he was --even at less than two years of age-- about being a big brother. 

And beyond that, the photographer managed to capture what I'd call a moment of pure joy, and that's a rarity. His excitement, my smile... it's all so beautiful and genuine. When I close my eyes and think back, I can almost remember how it felt to look down at his sweet smile and I can almost feel his little hands on my belly. And I can almost feel Isaac acknowledging the presence of those little hands with a kick.

So for the sweet fragrance of a memory that this picture provides, I am grateful.

May 16

Isaac had a Spartans game this afternoon (which ended in a win, woot!) in Danville. When we finally got home this evening, I found Abby working on an English paper at the dining room table and Brady watching TV and playing a video game in the family room.

My plan was just to take a pic of Brady engrossed in his game, but he immediately looked up and flashed a megawatt grin as soon as I pointed the phone in his direction.

So here he is, along with BearBear (who, for some reason, is in disguise) and Chub, being his adorable 10-year old video game loving self. For this bit of my reality, I am grateful.

May 15

Since there wasn't much of a baseball season last year, there were no baseball pictures. I was bummed since I'm a big photo person, so today, I was more than happy to watch as the boys and their teams herded together at the end of the Sports Park to take this year's shots.

Fortunately, they somehow wound up with back-to-back timeslots. Isaac's team was up first, and the Intermediate Blue boys talked and laughed and generally goofed around as they waited. 

After the last individual pic was taken, I sent Brady past the caution tape to take a buddy photo with his bigger bro and fellow number 7. (They're to the left of the guy in the red shirt.) Sensing what was to come from his teammates as Brady approached, a (minorly) beleaguered Isaac weakly called out "mom, can't we do this during his team's time?" and I chuckled as I shook my head. 

And then as they stood together and the photographer's assistant placed Isaac's bat between them and instructed them to put their arms around each other's shoulders, the cat-calling from the 12 and 13-year old spectators commenced: "Aw, Isaac, you're just so cuuuuuute!" and "Aw, so precious!" And I half-laughed and half-smiled at the sight and the sounds, because I know that Isaac didn't mind the ribbing and I know that he loves his little brother. 

And I also know that I will love that picture, because these moments are fleeting and they're so, so priceless. So for all of that, I am grateful.

May 14

Both Isaac and Brady had practice at the Sports Park tonight. Since Isaac's started half an hour earlier, we were a bit early to Brady's field, but his coach is usually early so it was no big deal.

In fact, when I turned around at one point, I spied Brady (in the black shirt on the right) and two of his teammates joining forces to haul a particularly large equipment bag toward the diamond.

Now it's true that the process probably would've been much less arduous had they realized that the bag had wheels, but the moment also wouldn't have been as sweet because there's something precious about seeing kiddos work together to achieve a common goal. Given that COVID took away many of those opportunities for a long while, I'm grateful to get 'em when I can.

Anyway, it was a lovely reminder that we do indeed need one another to navigate this life.

May 13

I can't remember what we were talking about after dinner, but I do know that at some point, Adam started blowing across the top of his empty root beer bottle.

That's right: I was talking about something and Abby was talking about something and Isaac was talking about something and Brady was talking about something and Adam was intermittently blowing across the top of an empty bottle of root beer.

It was weird. It was funny. And for those weird and funny moments, I am grateful.

May 12

Isaac had a game tonight (a win! Woohoo!), Brady had practice, and Abby had both Youth Group and dance. (So it was a kind of busy evening, as Wednesdays so often are.) After the boys went up to bed, I went up to say good-night and found them in Isaac's room.

They were both lying on the bed, and Isaac was reading to Brady from a book on his Kindle. Of course, the moment they saw me Isaac stopped reading and refused to continue until I left, and Brady made a weird face, but the sweetness of that initial split second still made my heart happy.

So for that and for the brotherly love they continue to have for one another, I am thankful.

May 11

I took a glass of peach Moscato up to the observation deck shortly after sunset this evening and watched as the sky above the silhouette of the distant hills merged from orange to yellow and finally, to that faded blue-grey that signals that the sun has fully tucked herself into bed for the night.

The sky continued its transition to dark blue and I listened as the birds' closing crescendo gave way to the crickets' nighttime serenade. And as I watched, I whispered quiet prayers for the family and friends whose names were pressed into my heart by the loving hand of the Creator.

There are many (many) things that I wish had gone differently in this life of mine, but all of those things aside, the quiet moments up there alone with God and my spirit and the crickets and the birds (and, well, the Moscato) made it all feel kind of perfect despite the glaring imperfections. 

And for that, I am thankful.

May 10

I put the final touches on Abby's blanket this afternoon, so I am now officially finished with my Kid Blanket Trilogy.

Given that hers was the first one I started last Fall, there was something poetic about it being the last one finished. And I definitely felt a nice sense of completion as I put the last stitch in the border and tied it off. 

But here's something you don't know about this trilogy: all three were second attempts. In each case, I'd gotten pretty far into my stitching when I decided to go with different patterns and colors. 

And you know something? In each case, my second attempt was an improvement over the first. It was a great reminder to me that although most of us don't like the idea of starting over from scratch, doing so often leads to big blessings. So when you find yourself needing to start over, do so with grace and tenacity, because great things lie ahead.

May 9

For most of the past 10 years, I've had mixed feelings about Mother's Day. Some years, I choked back feelings of bitterness as I watched other mommies herd ALL of their children to and fro, keenly --painfully-- aware of the absence of the little lamb who was so prematurely snatched from my care. Others, I awoke with a lump of emotion pre-formed in my throat and struggled all day long to keep the tears at bay. But today, my 10th Mother's Day without Logan, was a pleasant one. A peaceful one.

I woke up earlier than Adam expected so at his request, I got back in bed and pretended to be asleep so he and the kids could do their traditional wake-up routine. (And video. Yep, there is in existence a succession of videos showing just-awakened, bleary-eyed me on Mother's Days past.)

I opened presents (which included an epic flower arrangement, an array of textiles --including the Corvette shirt I'm wearing in the pic-- and a hydroponic garden, which I'm eager to try out) and then we headed to the kitchen for waffles and church.

Then Adam and I took a turn around the Sports Park before picking up lunch, which we enjoyed at home shortly after taking my always-requested photos in the yard. A little later, he ferried the kiddos to a quick visit with his mom while I hung at out at home and enjoyed the quiet. And then it was on to dinner from Hap's (for the teenager and the adults. The Brositos had Little Caesars). And now, as Adam reads to the boys and Abby does homework in her room, it's quiet once again.

This life we share is not an easy one by any means. I think we think that it should be, but it's definitely not: it's filled with ups and downs and victories and heartaches, just as God said it would be. But the struggles aside, it's still a good life. So though I will always mourn the little lamb who left us far too soon for my liking, I will also always be thankful that he was here and thankful that I will see him again whenever Someday arrives. And I will always be thankful for this gift of motherhood that has imbued my life with equal doses fragility, strength, perseverance and love.

May 8

After a day of baseball (since it's Saturday and all), the boys came home, finished their post-game Slurpees, and headed out to the pool.

They started off in the water, but when I looked out the window a little later, I spied them playing a round of Hit The Wiffle Ball With The Broken Pool Net. (What? You didn't realize that was an actual game? Me neither.)

It was weird, yes. But I do love their creativity. And I do love seeing them having fun together. So for those blessings, I am grateful.

May 7

When this lovely told me a few days ago that she might be able to come visit, I was cautiously optimistic. We've had a few failed attempts since the last time we got together almost 18 months ago, so I didn't want to get TOO excited. But when she told me yesterday that it was a go after all, I was delighted.

Although Taylor and I have kept in touch via text and the occasional phone call since she moved to Napa a few years ago, it was so wonderful to be able to see her in person and to be able to hug her again because she is, well, wonderful.

And it was wonderful to simply share space with her again --even if it was for just a relatively short time-- because being in physical proximity to my friends and being able to look into their eyes and (for lack of a better term) feel their energy are life-affirming blessings to me.

May 6

I can't remember exactly how it came up, but Abby and I were talking about creme brulee after dinner a few days ago. She said something about its "cheesecake" texture and I said "oh no no, we'll have to have some sometime because it's custard but still way more like flan than cheesecake." 

And courtesy of an evening run to Costco --which just happened to have creme brulee on a endcap that I just happened to notice as we were cruising the refrigerated aisles-- tonight was the night.

We don't actually own a kitchen torch (darn it, but hey, Mother's Day is coming) so we used the oven broiler instead. Though I've had better creme brulees in the past, I liked this one because I got to share the experience with my favorite girl (who, for the record, conceded that it mostly definitely is NOT cheesecake'y stuff).

May 5

I got up late this morning (since Wednesday is Joke Day, as we've taken to calling it at our house -- no in-person school and not really any online school, either). I had my coffee, checked my email, sent off a few texts, and then puttered into the backyard to water my tomato and pepper plants. While I was there, I decided to make use of one of the packs of peat pots I bought last week and sowed some more green beans and bell peppers.

Then I went inside and watered the bean seedlings in my kitchen window. (Those are the lovelies on the left. The littlest pot will hopefully be a strawberry plant at some point, and I am totally excited about that particular prospect because we love strawberries around here.) And then I swept the kitchen and decided the first floor bathroom could use a cleaning, so I did that too. As I was putting away the mop, I saw an expired ad for JoAnn on the built-in desk in the kitchen, so I threw it out and then decided that I'd probably just neaten the entire space. So I did that, too. Then I went to take a shower but before I got to our bathroom, I decided that I was tired of looking at the piles of photos and unfinished photo albums on our bedroom floor so I plunked down and finished putting them together. And then from my perch on the floor, I spotted dust on the dresser, so I dusted... and on it went.

I don't often feel motivated to clean like a whirling dervish, but when I do, it's always a good thing. So for that burst of motivation, I am grateful.

May 4

I glanced to the side during Brady's game tonight (a win for the A's, for the record) and saw Isaac and Adam standing together watching the action from behind the backstop.

And I had a wow-moment. Obviously I know that Isaac has grown --a lot-- over the past year. And I know that's he's a little more than a month away from becoming an official teenager and that yet more rapid growth is coming down the pipes any time now. 

But it still surprised me to see him standing so tall next to Adam. And it surprised me to see how they'd assumed the same arm positioning and how somehow, they looked more like two men than a man and a boy. And truthfully, it made me a wee bit sad, because for the first time, I couldn't really see the space between them where Logan --the oldest brother, the should-be biggest brother-- would fit if he were still with us.

Still, I am thankful, because I am always grateful that my children who are still here with me are continuing to grow and thrive.

May 3

I only realized it just now, but today Abby is exactly 16 1/2. So happy half-birthday to my favorite daughter!

Coincidentally (if I believed in coincidences, which I don't), I was already planning to post something about her.

After she got home from school today, she went upstairs to her room. And a short time later, this appeared on her Facebook timeline.

I have no idea what prompted the message, but I was so, so happy to see it. To know that my girl has faith and that she's not afraid to say so means so much to me.

May 2

I got my first dose of the COVID vaccine (Pfizer, if you're detail-oriented) on Friday and felt just fine for 36 hours. And then both shoes dropped at once. I woke up in the very wee hours of the morning with a very upset stomach and nausea. When I finally decided to get up for some water, I made it into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl just in time for... well, You Know. You Know continued on repeat for several minutes until my throat burned. And then I went back to bed.

And I spent the entirety of today either in bed or on the couch in the family room trying to sleep and/or ignore the nausea. In sum, it has not been my favorite Sunday.

But what made it okay was my hunny. When he heard me gakking in the kitchen, he hi-tailed it half-awake to see what was going on. When I wandered into the bathroom to try to clean myself off, he took charge of cleaning the bowl and the counter. He checked in on me throughout the day and gave me whatever I asked for (which was really just soda, water, and some rice, but those small things mean a lot when you don't have the energy to move). 

So although I'm admittedly annoyed about having a reaction to a vaccine I only took to protect other people, I'm grateful for the reminder that I married one of the best men out there. :) And THAT is a huge blessing.

May 1

Oh, baseball.

Only Brady had a game today because Isaac's was postponed due to a COVID case involving the other team. But the AAA A's v. Giants match-up provided multiple games' worth of drama.

The Giants posted a 5-spot in the top of the first thanks to a spate of defensive miscues by Brady's squad. They could've just hung their heads and mentally checked out for the remaining frames, but that's not what they did. Mirroring Isaac's team's effort earlier in the week, the defense got their act together, and the offense got down to business. They scratched out their first run in the bottom of the third and then added a second an inning later, and entering the bottom of the sixth and last frame, they trailed 6-2.

The leadoff batter singled, and then Brady followed suit by dropping a line drive of his own into the outfield that scored the run. The next two batters struck out, but with just a single out remaining, the improbable happened: after a dizzying mish-mash of errors and miscues, the score was tied 6-6 with the winning run on third. And then before we could even take a breath on the stands, a ball got away from the catcher, and that little runner on third was booking it toward home plate, where he was called safe. And that was it.

We screamed and yelled and whooped and hollered like crazy people (or maybe just overly enthused parents who were so, so proud to see our little boys fight like the dickens to get a win) in the bleachers. I'm still a little hoarse now, even hours later. As far as Little League baseball games go, it was epic.

But it was so, so wonderful. It was wonderful to see our littles' tenacity and to continue bonding with my fellow baseball parents over our shared experience. And more than that, it was so, so wonderful to be reminded yet again that even when situations look bleak and you can't imagine how they could possibly improve, anything is still possible. That the seemingly lifeless can once again teem with vitality. And for that reminder, I am very grateful.