March 31

With "new" schools come new experiences, so today's fifth grade presentation on the American Revolution was a fresh one for me.

Brady (center on a knee, wearing a red cap and ornate feather headdress) and his classmates did an admirable job of sharing their knowledge all throughout the two-and-a-half hour event. For his part, Brady took part in a skit with his "team" (the Blue Rebels), took on the persona of Samuel Adams, and even read the part assigned to an absent classmate.

He hasn't known these kids since kindergarten since he changed schools when we moved and sometimes that truth makes me a little sad, but watching him sitting with his buddies and seeing them fist bump one another as they successfully finished their portions of the program made me happy. I'm glad that he feels comfortable and that he's enjoying his last few months of elementary school. Smooth transitions to new situations are never a given, so it's a blessing that he's content where he is.

March 30

Isaac had practice this evening. I usually make the drive up the freeway on Wednesdays and more often than not I take one of his teammates along, too (since as I always say, I'm going anyway!). So Isaac and G and I hit the road a little after 4.

I took laps around the local shopping mall while they did their thing on the diamond. At one point, Isaac texted to let me know that one of his other teammates needed a ride home. So when practice wrapped up, Isaac, G, and A all trooped out to my car and we hit the road again.

Although part of me actually gags at the very notion of driving 40 minutes in a car surrounded by a trio of post-practice teenage boys, I'll admit the truth: I loved it. I loved being able to do something practical for --and with-- my boy and his friends.

Presence --mine for others and others' for me-- is a gift.

March 29

This evening, Brady's team played One Of Those Games.

And by that I mean One Of Those Games where everything goes well: where every ball is caught in the outfield, every infield play is cleanly completed, (nearly) every batter for the opposing team is retired without issue, and just about everyone is hitting well. (Brady, for his part, went 2 for 2 and had a solid catch in Center.) Yep: it was 56 minutes (nope, that's not a typo) of near-perfect ball for the Pirates.

Those 10-0 wins sure are fun and should be celebrated. But we should also remember to store up some of the happy generated by the gems to help carry us through the less than awesome outings; the ones where everyone strikes out, every ball is dropped, and the poor pitcher just can't find the strike zone. 

This life is filled with highs and lows, and we're instructed to give thanks regardless of our circumstances. And I think games like this one make it easier to remain joyful even when losses pop up down the line.

March 28

It was a weird-weather Monday: rainy in the morning, overcast at times, sunny at times, all topped off by dark, ominous clouds in the evening (along with more showers).

After Brady's practice, he and I drove over to the Cheesesteak Shop to pick up our dinner order, and as I got back into the car, I noticed a bunch of red heart and gold star-shaped Mylar balloons floating off into that cloudy sky.

It was something of a surreal sight (as was the vertical rainbow we saw a little later during the drive home) and hopefully the balloon release was an intended one, but it was a unique event to behold. And sometimes, the whimsy of that bizarre kind of scene is just the kind of entertainment I need.

March 27

There was baseball to be watched yesterday, so Abby and I engaged in our customary shopping outing today.

Time is absolutely flying by and I know we'll be dropping her off at college (the Big Decision is coming soon!) before I know it, so I'm grateful for every one of our excursions.

She's an amazing young woman and I'm so proud of who she's been, who she is now, and who she's becoming.

March 26

It was a beautiful afternoon at the Sports Park. But by the time the final out of Brady's game was recorded, I'd had quite enough blistering sunlight. 

And then the sweetest thing happened: while we waited for the post-game meeting to wrap up, Isaac stood up, raised his arm, and deliberately positioned his ballcap over the sun, which left me in the shade.

It was a simple gesture but a super sweet one from this boy of mine. And I am grateful for him and for those unexpected moments out of the sun.

March 25

I kicked off my Friday with school drop-offs and then the usual stop at the Mother Ship. But today's stop was even better than usual because I got to coffee with Nikki.

My friend group has gotten markedly smaller over time, so it's always wonderful to get together with someone like her who really, truly knows me and understands who I am. It's always time well-spent and it's always good for my spirit.

Although the nuts and bolts of our relationship have changed over the years, I'm so thankful for her and for our continued friendship.

March 24

I tend to nest in my crochet supplies.

By "nest" I mean "pile them around my seat in the family room until it actually looks like I'm sitting in a small animal's nest of variously colored yarn."

Inevitably, the disorder begins to wear on me, but this particular nest sat longer than usual because it looked extra-specially messy. And quite truthfully, I was scared of it. I was scared of the tangled mess of yarn that I assumed I'd find at the bottom. And I thoroughly dislike de-knotting yarn. (Ask my mom.)

But I'd had enough as of this afternoon, so I began the straightening process. I kept expecting each ball to be hopelessly knotted to the one below it, but time after time, they pulled apart easily until all were eventually tucked into a box.

Life can be like that, I think. We look at what seems like a big mess and think "I can't possibly work through this." But the reality is that sometimes things that look like big messes really aren't. And even when we are facing honest to goodness disasters, we can still work through them, especially if we a) take it slow and b) ask God for help along the way. It was a good visual reminder for me, so I thought I'd pass it on to you.

March 23

Most of us (except for Abby, who is currently scrambling to finish editing her school's yearbook before the rapidly approaching completion deadline) went to Coldstone for ice cream after dinner to celebrate Brady's recent good report card.

Isaac and Brady made their usual bizarre selections (a la cotton candy ice cream with Kit Kat and chocolate-dipped strawberry with Sour Patch Kids). And then we headed outside to eat.

It was a beautiful evening with beautiful people, and I am grateful for the moments.

March 22

Brady's team lost something of a heartbreaker tonight.

The very competitive, low-scoring affair concluded when the pitcher overthrew the ball to first base in the bottom of the final inning. Tying run scored. Winning run scored. His face fell. He didn't actually burst into tears, but I could tell he was on the cusp.

As a mom, it hits my heart in a tender place whenever any kid makes a goof of that magnitude. 

But it's a learning experience: It's okay to be imperfect and it's okay to even lose sometimes. But it's not okay to be mean or unkind when mistakes happen. So I'm grateful for every kid on the team who patted the pitcher on the back and told him good game. And I'm grateful for experiences like this that teach us the value of being compassionate at all times.

March 21

There's something really beautiful about seeing new growth on a plant that's been pruned.

It's not a new concept for me and it's definitely an idea I've pontificated on in the past, but it's still true. 

Just because you've feel worn down and incapable of doing anything productive doesn't mean that you're actually incapable. You can still do great things, even when you feel like you can't do anything at all.

Keep that in mind! It's important. Really, really important.

March 20

I may have mentioned this before but bear with me. When Adam's dad was a kid, he played Stratomatic baseball, which is basically a card game that simulates a game. He introduced Isaac and Brady to it a number of years ago, and they occasionally play with him via Zoom on Sunday afternoons.

And that's what they did today. After church and some time at the Sports Park whacking balls (just Brady of course, since Isaac is injured), they toasted a couple of bagels and plunked down at the dining room table with their cards and someone's laptop and played away.

I love that they take the time to do this with their granddad. I know the time means a lot to him, so I'm thankful that they realize that and make it happen.

March 19

It sprinkled a bit this morning but the downpour originally predicted didn't materialize, so we were at the Sports Park bright and early for Brady's game. And to drop Abby off at work.

As I stood behind the backstop chatting with a fellow Pirate mom, Abby and Sarah drove up on the cart to make a product delivery to the satellite snack table. And because I am me, I had to take a pic before I'd let them go. 

These two were in a play group together many, many moons ago: I think Sarah was 3 and Abby was 2 when we started meeting. I kept in loose touch with her mom via Facebook over the years and always thought the two of them would get along really well, but they went to different elementary schools so the opportunity to connect simply wasn't there. And life pressed onward.

But then this year, their Senior year, they re-discovered each other. And from my mom-perch, I'm loving the friendship that's developing. Sarah is a really, really nice girl and Abby likes her (just like I knew she would!). I feel blessed that although they only have a handful of months until they're off to their respective colleges for the next chapter of this life, they're getting the opportunity to bless each other now. Because regardless of what's to come, now matters.

March 18

Way back when, I made a lot of friendship bracelets. I remember how excited teenage me would get whenever she saw that embroidery thread was on sale. So when Abby came home from school today and shared that she'd learned how to make them from a friend, it took me way back. And it made me remember that I had this:

It's a bracelet that I made probably 30 years ago. I found when we were moving into our house back in 2020 and put it on one of the kitchen desk shelves for safe keeping. So I retrieved it and tied it around my girl's wrist.

And as I did so, she chirped "Amador colors!" because her school colors are indeed purple and gold. 

As far as I can remember, no one else has ever worn this one, so it's poetic to think that teenage me made it for her own future teenage daughter without even knowing what she was doing.

Funny, huh? I think so. And it also points to the truth that God makes things like that happen every day: clarity to muddy situations, solutions to seemingly impossible problems. And meaning to long-forgotten things we did 30 years ago.

March 17

Adam and I went to Costco tonight. (Date night! Kidding.)

On the way back home, he pointed out the moon through some trees and opined over how bright (and full) it looked, and when we got to a clearing where I could see it in its glory, I had to concur.

There are plenty of (mostly man-made) ugly things in this world, but creation can sure be beautiful and awe-inspiring sometimes.

March 16

Brady has a number of different interests.

He enjoys baseball, of course, and also basketball and four square. (Pretty much any sport.) He also likes playing video games (duh) and weaving and baking.

When he came home from school today, he announced that his literary circle would be meeting tomorrow and said he wanted to make brownies or cookies to share with the group. So we took a look at what we had in the pantry, and he made --with a little bit of help from me-- a pan of Oreo brownies.

I like that he likes doing lots of different things, but I really like that though he didn't have to do it, he wanted to make a treat to share with his friends. In a world that can often be bitter, that bit of sweetness is a blessing.

March 15

Tonight, Brady and the Pirates cruised to another win, bringing their season record to a perfect 5-0.

But it was a challenging game for my muffin, who didn't do anything at the plate and didn't get many chances offensively. I knew that even though they came away with a 10-0 victory, he'd be frustrated. And I was right.

But as I told him at dinner, it's okay to have less than great outings. We all do now and then because we're human and it's part of human life. And thankfully, tomorrow is another day. 

So for that truth, I'm grateful.

March 14

Your eyes do not deceive you: that is indeed a brace on Isaac's left wrist. But I'll back up a bit to explain.

His swing was off all weekend long. It looked weird at times and he took too many pitches that were too close to take, which resulted in uncharacteristic looking strikeouts. And then after yesterday's double header, he approached me with tears in his eyes and quietly told me that it really hurt.

What really hurt? 

His wrist, which he apparently tweaked during batting practice before Saturday's game. I looked at it right away and saw that it was swollen. And when I touched his thumb and told him to move it, he cringed. So he played not one, not two, but three games while injured. When I asked him why on earth he didn't say anything, the explanation was simple: he didn't want to sit out.

So when he got up today and admitted that it still hurt when I inquired, I made an appointment with the doctor, who braced it and sent him for an x-ray. The latter was fortunately negative so no break, but he's still out of all physical activity for at least two weeks. 

Drama aside, tonight I'm grateful that it's not fractured and am hopeful that the healing process will be quick and that we'll be able to figure out why he's suddenly susceptible to injury. (Because between his shoulder and this... iish.) And I'm thankful for his positive mood, because although he can't play, he still plans to suit up, sit in the dugout (and maybe serve as a base coach), and help cheer his team on.

(And the second pic? Well, that's my most recent finished project. It's sunny and cheerful and it makes me smile, so I thought I'd share it as well.)

March 13

The Rays have played (much) better than they did today, but that's baseball for you.

I'm still grateful that it the temp was neither too hot nor too cold, it didn't rain on us, the wind wasn't too windy, and the sun peeked its head out from behind the clouds now and then, providing moments of delightful warmth. And I'm grateful that I had a bag full of yarn and hooks so I could work as I observed.

But most of all I'm grateful that I again got to watch this ever-growing boy of mine play on the diamond because win or lose, that is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

March 12

I so love baseball season. I love watching them play and I love the little conversations we share in the car before and after practices and games. I practically live in the car toting Isaac and Brady (and a collection of other boys) to and fro, but I love it.

Today's chapter of the Wight Baseball Chronicles found me here in town with Brady and the Pirates, who scored a 2-1 win over the Yanks. (Brady, for his part, went 2-2 with two solid singles.) Abby completed her shift at the snack shack and then joined me on the bleachers to root for our wee number six.

Adam shuttled Isaac to Moraga, where the Rays battled but ultimately fell to the Mavericks. (Oh well: you win some, you lose some. Tomorrow's another day that will features two more games!)

It's a blessing, all of it. The traffic, the schedule conflicts, the little side convos in the car, the games, and the friendships that form. And I am thankful.

March 11

Twice while I was in the car today --at completely different times-- my ear tuned in to the radio just as Christian recording Austin French shared some of his personal testimony. 

The first time I heard it, I thought "oh, that's a good story. I like what he said there."

The second time I heard it, I took it to heart because I usually find that when I hear the same message more than once, I'm supposed to absorb it. 

So what was the message? It's easy to lose focus on what Jesus has already done and what he can still do. 

A good reminder of the truth, if you ask me. And I'm grateful that Jesus can fix, repair, reorganize, and reinvent anything. Even things that seem irreparably broken.

March 10

Today we celebrated Adam's 44th birthday.

He had to work and the kiddos had school and the dentist, but we had some good family time this evening that included dinner at Chili's, presents, and cake (jazzed up box spice cake and homemade cream cheese frosting a la Abby). 

To say that he's a good man would be an understatement because the reality is that he's an exceptional man. He's kind and patient and consistent and loving. And we are all extremely blessed to have him in our lives.

Happy birthday, hunny! 

March 9

I don't typically condone texting at the dinner table, but it was a special occasion.

A few years ago, Abby's good friend S moved away. After a few months of intermittent communication, she vanished. Abby had no idea what happened and mourned the unexpected loss of the relationship. And then --even though she still didn't have answers-- she moved forward.

But then this evening, completely out of the blue, S texted her. Abby was floored and thrilled, but after exchanging pleasantries and surface-level stuff, she finally asked what happened. Not surprisingly (to me, anyway), S shared that she'd been in a bad place mentally. And then they continued catching up.

Abby doesn't know if they'll actually stay in touch, but she was really happy to have a chance to connect with S again. And I so loved seeing her smile. So tonight, I'm thankful that reconnection is always a possibility. And for the blessing of old friends.

March 8

It was a busy, bustling kind of day at the Mother Ship. I watched from my perch in the corner as a petite blonde girl --maybe twentysomething, maybe not quite-- held up a cold cup and haltingly asked the barista if she was sure that it had two shots. The barista gave a terse affirmation, so although clearly unconvinced, the girl stepped away. Then I saw her go outside, pause, and take a sip. She stood there for a moment just looking at the cup in her hands before she turned and came back inside.

She stopped a few feet short of the counter and waited. Hemmed and hawed. The barista was oblivious to her return and to the storm of self-doubt that I was certain raged in her mind. I felt badly for her because I've been that girl --the one who has to work up the courage to ask for what should've been rightfully hers all along-- and I silently wished I could lend her some courage.

And then because God is just like that, my long-delayed cup of ice water --the one that I'd ordered 20 minutes earlier and completely forgotten about-- appeared at the bar. As I went to retrieve it, I paused in front of the girl, looked her in the eye, smiled, and said "you remind me so much of me. If it’s not right, just tell them. It’s ok." She looked surprised, and then relieved. And a moment later, she stepped forward and haltingly said that her drink didn't taste right so could they please fix it? And of course, they did.

I watched her as she again walked toward the exit and her gaze met mine and she smiled and paused and said "thank you for giving me the confidence I needed." And I smiled back because I didn't do much at all; I was just a fortysomething lending a hand to a twentysomething who needed help. But I'm thankful that she took that little piece of advice.

Lend your strength to someone else. It’ll plant a seed and then over time her own confidence will bloom. And the confidence that comes from knowing that we're worthy just because God chose to create us --just because we simply ARE-- is a blessing.

March 7

I finished working on a royal blue shawl this afternoon and instead of picking up one of the many (many) other projects I've got going, I opted to start something new.

I really enjoy the freedom of creativity that comes along with this new hobby of mine. I like coming up with patterns and color schemes and stitch combinations. And beyond all of that, I like making things for other people, and it is a blessing to me to be able to do so.

(As an aside, I know that I wrote something like this last week. I'm writing a similar entry because it's still true, but also because I forgot to take a pic during the lovely walk I took with my friend Nancy this morning. It too was good for my heart, but I don't have a visual to go along with the reflection, so here we are!)

March 6

While driving home after church today, the boys were pleased to find that we were riding behind Abby, who was behind the wheel of Adam's car. (She drives herself most Sundays so she can stay late to finish her volunteer hours.)

They craned their necks and watched with eagle eyes as she navigated around the slightly raised manhole cover on the road adjacent to ours, and then continued watching as she turned onto our street and navigated toward the cul de sac.

They were so oddly amused by the whole thing that I turned around and snapped a pic of their faces as we pulled into the driveway. It's a blessing to find joy in such simple experiences.

March 5

With weeks of practices in the books, the seal was formally broken this morning: the 2022 baseball season is officially, at long last, underway.

I accompanied Brady to the Sports Park as he and the rest of the Majors Pirates played their opener against the Orioles at 9:30 this morning. They scored an 8-5 W against his old coach and a handful of his former teammates, and I think he had a good time, save a solid plunking that left a baseball-shaped red mark on his upper back.

Following the game, we trucked it over to the snack shack to secure some Sour Patch Kids and a salty pretzel and to visit Abby as she worked her first-ever shift alongside her pal Sarah. (My girl has a job! An actual j-o-b!)

From there we hit the freeway and headed north to join Adam and Isaac in Lafayette, where the Rays (formerly known as the Spartans) were engaged in game one of a doubleheader. They came out in the win column with that effort, but fell short of the mark in game two (thanks at least in part to an oddly roaming strike zone). Adam left a little early to take Brady to his evening practice (because dude, why just play a game when you can throw in a practice too, right?) so I followed a little later with a decidedly jovial Isaac in tow. He loves the game so much and I so love his enthusiasm. I loved listening to him cheering on his teammates and joking around in the dugout between innings. And of course, I loved watching him play. The way he swings the bat with everything he has and the way he tries to get into the pitcher's head when he's on base. And even the charmingly awkward way he runs. He's becoming a man right there in front of me and it's the craziest thing ever.

Anyway, I'm exhausted. It's amazing how exhausting it can be to sit for hours watching sports. But my heart feels full, so I am grateful.

March 4

I have too much yarn. There, I said it. 

With that truth in mind, I decided to do a speed test a few days ago to see how quickly I could crank out a shawl. And here's the final product of that quest, which I finished off this afternoon while sitting in the car waiting for Isaac to get out of class.

I feel so blessed that that I'm able to create comfort items for other people. It's an amazing thing to have a talent that can be used to make someone else's day a bit better, and I am so, so grateful for mine.

March 3

Isaac has always been a strong student when it comes to math and science, but for some reason, he wasn't placed in advanced math when he started middle school. Nor was he moved up in seventh grade. But this year, two weeks into the school year, he was suddenly bumped into Algebra 1. He was super excited until he realized that he had a ton of holes in his educational background (since, you know, they skipped him over an entire year of math), and then he struggled through the first semester.

Even though he was falling further and further behind, he wasn't at all keen on the idea of getting a tutor ("no way" and "no no no no NO" were among the responses provided when I brought it up) but we knew he needed help. So when it finally dawned on me that our friend Gerri from church was a) a former Algebra teacher and b) bored because she's been recovering from a knee injury, I set up a meeting for the two of them.

And then poof, everything changed. And I can honestly say that she's been a God-send. His test scores have improved astronomically (think failing to A's) and she's been so encouraging and complimentary of his abilities that I think he actually looks forward to sessions.

So this evening, I am grateful for her and for how she uses her gift of teaching to bless others.

March 2

When I visit the Mother Ship these days, I typically get an ice water along with my coffee. I don't usually finish said-water but I bring it along in the car because I know that Isaac will ask me if I have anything he can drink when I pick him up from school. And that's exactly what he did today, so I passed the cup to the backseat. But what happened next took me by surprise.

I was peripherally aware of a brief exchange between Isaac and Brady, and then I heard the crackle of a top being removed, and the distinctive slosh of liquid in motion. Then I heard a muffled thank you followed by the sounds of both boys gulping.

He shared with his little brother.

It's a small thing, but those entirely un-mom prompted moments mean so much to me. It's a blessing to see them loving each other in practical, everyday ways.

March 1

Brady had a pre-season game at the Sports Park this evening. While he and his team warmed up on the diamond, Isaac and I took a partial loop around the park.

The temp was t-shirt comfortable and my boy was in a good mood, so I enjoyed the stroll. I watched as he attempted pull-ups on a number of trees (with varied degrees of success) and as he noted the scores of cherry blossoms along the path. At one point, he stooped down to pick one up. He studied the tiny flower up-close, mused that he liked it, and --after asking if it was a good idea-- he popped a petal in his mouth (against my suggestion) and immediately announced that no, it did not taste good. It was strange. Very, very strange.

Teenage boys are weird. But they're also wonderful in that weird, whimsical teenage boy way. And I am thankful for mine in all of his wonderful weirdness.