May 31

I love predictability, and this image represents the essence of the term.

Abby gets home from school. Abby finds BearBear. Abby covertly snags BearBear. Abby and BearBear sit together at the kitchen table until Brady notices that his bud has been pilfered and takes him back.

Ah, yes. Sweet predictability.

As crazy as BearBear is, I'll miss his antics with Abby this Fall when she's away at school, but I'll look forward to his phone calls. Because I'm pretty sure those calls and messages will come even when she's at Wheaton. And that humor... it's definitely bizarre, but it's also a perpetual blessing.

May 30

Brady went to a birthday party yesterday afternoon that turned into a sleepover.

He was cheerful when he got home today and spent some time playing video games with Isaac (who most definitely missed his brother-man). Then the two of them helped Adam clean out the little pond in the backyard before taking a dip in the pool.

And just before dinnertime, all of the weekend action caught up to this littlest guy of mine and he conked out on a couch in the family room.

I watched him sleep for a minute; the rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic in and out, in and out of his breath. He's definitely not a baby anymore --as of the end of this week, he'll be a middle schooler, as crazy as that is-- but he's my baby. And I'm grateful for the quiet moments as they come.

May 29

This year's graduates were recognized at church this morning.

It's an oversimplification of my feelings, but I am so grateful that Abby has spent her entire life to date as part of this family of faith. It may be a small congregation right now, but I love that so many people know and value her for who she was, is, and will be in the future.

It is such a blessing to be truly known and and valued and loved.

May 28

This girl right here graduates from high school in six days.

She picked up her yard sign this morning, so of course we all trooped outside after dinner this evening (after she'd returned from both work and a mall trip with a friend) to watch her press its legs down into the grass. 

And then we made her take some photos. And because Abby is goofy sometimes, she crawled underneath the sign and said photo was born. Voila.

I still haven't put a lot of thought into the days to come, but I do know one thing: I am so proud of her and all she's done. And I'm proud of the young woman she's becoming. And I'm deeply grateful to God for guiding us in our role as her parents. 

May 27

Only Brady had a minimum (also known as half) day of school today, so I did the healthy thing and walked over to pick him up. 

It was a lovely, cool afternoon and the company was pleasant, so although I was regaled with tales of the injustices that transpired during the tennis racket baseball game his class played against the school staff first thing this morning, it was a good walk. 

Given that Brady will be promoted to middle school a week from today, this was very likely my final walk home from an elementary school with one of my children. (And given the distance between our house and both the middle and high schools, it was likely our last walk home from school period.) Although I haven't processed most of those thoughts --of Brady going to middle school and Isaac going to high school and Abby moving to Chicago to go to college-- I know the emotional onslaught is coming. 

But tonight, with those big thoughts looming and pending as they draw nearer in the windshield of my life, I'm deliberately thinking small. And I'm just grateful for the small moments that have meant so much, like all of the walks home from elementary school that I see in the rearview --with kids in strollers and babies strapped to my chest and snacks in the basket underneath and boxes of fall-print tissues and backpacks and roses picked from the yard and giggles and 10 minutes at the park that became 60 and a multitude of friends in tow-- that I've had in the past with my bunch. 

May 26

It was hard to not notice the sky as I drove over to the church this evening for a pastor search team meeting.

The fading sunlight, the clouds, the shadows; they all merged together to create a scene that commanded my attention.

It was pure majesty poured out on the great canvas above. 

The scene made me remember that beauty can be found everywhere; we just have to look for it. So go look.

May 25

I was multitasking in the family room when Abby got home from dance tonight.

We've had (many) conversations in the past about her tendency to plunk down in front of me and chatter when I'm watching TV, so I was surprised when she walked into the room and sat on the couch across from me without uttering a word. Then when a commercial break began, she jumped up and performed her recital routine for us. The silence was unusual, but the performance took me back to the days when all she wanted was to be a hula girl at VBS. And the memory was so, so sweet.

Lots of things will change in the months to come, but one thing that will always remain constant is my affection for this girl of ours. She's pretty special, and I am thankful to be her mom. 

May 24

I bought whole milk at the grocery store yesterday. We're typically two percent drinkers so it was a departure from the norm, and 24 hours post-purchase, I can now state with certainty that my children do not like whole milk.

Abby announced that it tasted "thick" but was okay in cereal. Isaac said it had a "weird" flavor and texture. And Brady? Well, the look says it all. After pouring himself a tall glass at dinnertime tonight and adding his customary Carnation chocolate powder, he took half a sip and decried its foul flavor. And its terrible smell. I watched him as he stared at the glass, well-aware that I was waiting for him to drink it. I don't remember his precise words, but he implied that I was trying to kill him. It was, in short, a test of wills. And eventually, I decided it wasn't worth it and left. So I'm guessing he never did drink it.

Odd that it may be, I'm thankful that Brady is so stubborn. Hopefully, it means he'll stick to his principles and not be easily swayed in the years to come.

May 23

I was intimidated by the idea of Tunisian crochet, but decided to order some hooks yesterday to try it out. And because Amazon is awesome, they arrived today. 

So this evening, I'm sitting in my family room with said hooks and a giant ball of orange yarn figuring it out. There's no great success of yet, but I'm getting there. And I'm okay with that. 

I'm thankful that I have the desire and the drive to try new things. And I'm thankful for the truth that slow progress is still progress.

May 22

It was Baccalaureate Sunday for Abby's class. Since the venue is fairly small and the spectre of COVID still lingers, each graduate could have just one guest, so we decided that Adam would be her plus one.

Although I wasn't there, I got the play by play over dinner this evening, and it sounded like a lovely, reflection-inducing event for the seniors and their families. I could, in fact, imagine the scene, since the ceremony was held in the very same church sanctuary that played host to many of the kids' preschool chapel services. And it was where we all gathered to remember Logan 10 years ago.

So this evening I'm thankful that these two got to share such a special father/daughter experience.

May 21

Today marked the end of the spring baseball season for both Isaac and Brady. While Adam accompanied Brady to the Sports Park for what wound up being his last playoff game, I drove Isaac up to Moraga for his season-ending 680 league tournament.

It was a lose-one-long-lunch-break-win-one-lose-one kind of day for this guy. He fared well enough at the plate and on the base paths during the three games the Rays played, going 4 for 8 with a walk and a hit by pitch. And he drove in at least one run, stole multiple bases, and scored several times. 

But beyond all of that, I'm thankful that I got to spend some time with just this kiddo. We have the ten minutes it takes to drive between Brady's school and his in the mornings, but other than that, mom-and-Isaac time is quite limited. So it was genuinely nice to grab lunch with just him and to listen to his thoughts. 

So even though his season ended a day earlier than would've been the case had they won game three, I'm grateful for those hours of watching him do this thing on the diamond. And I'm  especially grateful for the precious one-on-one minutes with my amazing third child.

May 20

It's strange to think that it's been a whopping four years since I all-but forced Abby to attend her eighth grade promotion dance and she wound up having the time of her young life. (She still calls it the best dance she's ever been to, in fact, and that's with Senior Ball under her belt.) But it has indeed been four years, and as proof of that truth, this evening Isaac dress shirted it up and headed off to his eighth grade promotion dance.

He doesn't really own dress clothes these days; not even a button down shirt, much less an actual tie, so he borrowed both from Adam. He'd never worn a tie before so I watched as Adam put it around his neck, fastened the knot, and secured the buttons on his shirt collar. 

And as I looked at him in that shirt and tie, I realized just how much he's grown and changed since he started middle school. He's more than six inches taller, of course; as they stood together, I noticed that the difference between their heights is miniscule. But beyond that, he's become a thoughtful, inquisitive, and personable young man who loves baseball and dogs and his friends and his family. Just to throw out a quick example of who he is.... A few mornings ago as we drove to school, he was talking aloud as he mulled the future. He noted that he likes to do lots of different things, and when I asked what he thought he might want to do for a living, he replied that he'd considered being a missionary (although he wasn't sure it would align with his skill set. I assured him that if that's his calling, it'd work out). And my heart just leapt, because it was such an Isaac response.

Anyway, yes. I'm proud of this kid of mine and I'm grateful to God for choosing me to be his mom. And I hope he's having fun at the dance and making memories just like his big sister did four years ago. 

May 19

I moved through my morning motions feeling like the day had special significance but I couldn't figure out why. I thought about it on and off as I wished friends Happy Birthday on Facebook, chatted with coffee pals at the Mother Ship, and headed back home. And then, eventually, it hit me: 24 1/2 years ago today, 19-year old Adam and 19-year old me officially started dating. (We'll hit 20 years of marriage later on this year, for the record.)

So I hustled into the office and, after explaining my motivations, snapped a quick selfie between his business calls.

It's so strange to think that we've been a Thing for nearly a quarter of a century. I guess, when I really think about all that's happened over the years, the duration that's passed makes sense, but still... it seems like a long time. 

Although the time that's gone by feels much like a blur at times, I am certain of one thing: I am blessed. He's not perfect, of course, because none of us are, but he's a fantastic dad and provider and friend. And best of all, he's an amazing example of how to be Christ to others.

So for him and for us and for the 24 1/2 years that have gone by --including the moments we've endured that I'd rather forget that tested my faith and pushed me to places I never could've imagined myself going-- I am so thankful. Because those years transformed me into me and us into us and although I'm always working to do better, I think those are pretty good things indeed.

May 18

I've probably written something like this before, but I figure it's been a while so I figure a quasi-repeat is okay.

It's Chick Fil A day at our house, and I always order my drink with extra ice because I love it. LOVE it. I love the size of the pellets and I really love the crunchiness.

And I also love that it reminds me of my sweet Logan. Back when he was in the hospital, the nutrition room had a dispenser that was filled with the same type of ice. I'd fill huge, 32-ounce cups to the brim and then happily munch away at my chilly treat.

So for this amazing ice and for those memories, I am thankful.

May 17

*** Note: the Pleasanton Little League All Stars designation on the image is an error. This is not a PLL-affiliated team. Some of these boys HAVE played for PLL in the past but this team, again, is NOT AFFILIATED with PLL. ***

I full-on laughed aloud when I first saw Isaac's team photo online.

Isaac and Alex are both reasonably laid back, personable boys, so it tickled my funny bone to see them standing there in the back row, bats against their shoulders. And the no-nonsense mean mugs were the icing on the chuckle cake.

I love that Isaac loves baseball. And I love this team and these boys. It's been a "home" space for him over the past few (bizarre, uncertain) years that, as a social person by nature, he's really needed. It's a huge blessing and I am thankful.

(Photo credit: AP Visions Photography.)

May 16

It was more or less a run of the mill Monday for us: school (well, for the boys; for the girl, it was Senior Ditch Day so she did that) and baseball practice and dinner around the kitchen table.

After Adam and I cleared our plates these three remained in their seats, gibbering about this, that, or the other. So I decided that I'd capture the moment; this everyday, run of the mill moment at our house.

As I've expressed many times over, I am grateful for these non-noteworthy moments, just like I'm grateful for the big ones. They all matter.

May 15

It was an absolutely gorgeous day for baseball. And it was most definitely a beautiful day for a Rays mercy rule win.

And that's just what Isaac and the rest of the boys got: a 14-4 home field victory. After a season of good defense/poor hitting and poor defense/good hitting games, the puzzles pieces finally came together this morning. (For his part, Isaac went 1 for 2 with a single and two walks, and he also reached on an error.)

I enjoyed watching the action unfold from my spot underneath the shade tent Adam bought yesterday. After years of baking in the sun in the stands, I am so grateful for that little portable structure!

So yes: today I am thankful for a good game and for how much Isaac loves the sport. And for the oft-overlooked and underappreciated blessing of shade.

May 14

It was a divide and conquer kind of Saturday: while I took Isaac up to Walnut Creek for his doubleheader, Adam accompanied Brady to the Sports Park for his team's first playoff match-up (which, for the record, the Pirates won 3-0. Woohoo!).

It was a mid-80s afternoon, so when Isaac and I got home, he skittered to his room to change into his swimming trunks and the boys hit the pool. But first, sunscreen, and when I glanced out the window, I spied Brady laughing while he did a funky little dance on the deck. 

This kid is such a goofball sometimes. And that goofiness is always a blessing.

May 13

First off, it's my mom's birthday, so happy, happy birthday, mom! I hope you've had a wonderful day and enjoyed your time with Aunt A!

With that said (and sorry, my ability to construct a seamless transition here is limited at the moment), onto today's entry. 

After my Mother Ship run this morning, I headed out for some casual shopping. (Which is one of my terms for 'window shopping.') I hadn't seen any new Hot Wheels corvettes in some time, so I was genuinely surprised to find not just one but three new ones at Walmart. So of course I snapped 'em up to add to my collection. (For the newcomers among us, Logan was a car-kid and had a special affinity for Vettes. So whenever I see a new small diecast Corvette, I buy it.)

It was a pleasant, unexpected surprise and although Logan is perpetually on my mind and in my heart, it was a blessing to "see" him again in a tangible way.

May 12

I wasn't entirely sure how Brady would fare at Vintage Hills when he transferred there after we moved. He'd been at his other school since kindergarten, after all, and it can be hard to connect when you're the New Kid.

But as he finishes out his fifth grade year --and his elementary school career-- I'm relieved to say that my concerns were, by and large, unfounded. 

And that's at least in part due to the efforts of his teacher, Mrs. Creighton. He's had a good, fun, entertaining year in her class; they've engaged in a wide variety of activities and I feel like he's grown quite a lot as a human being. I can often tell how effective a teacher is based on how excited my kids are to go to school, and Brady has always looked forward to seeing what would be on a given day's schedule.

So for her and for all of the wonderful teachers my kiddos have had over the years --and particularly the elementary school years, since this one's the caboose in a long line of them--I am so thankful. 

May 11

Heidi texted me yesterday to see if I'd like to have coffee, and of course the answer was yes. So that's what we did this morning.

I hadn't seen her in several months so it was really nice to sit and chat and catch up, especially since we both have kiddos graduating from high school next month. (And yes, writing that feels really, really strange. Gray hair aside, how do I have a kid heading off to college this fall?) 

We've known one another for quite a long while now so I am grateful for her continued friendship, and for the opportunity to reconnect in person.

May 10

My sweet Brady is sad tonight, and I can't fix it.

We were out in full Wight force tonight for his last regular season game with the Pirates; the definitive game that would decide who finished in first place. Even Abby made the trek over to the Sports Park to support her youngest brother.

They played well (which hasn't always been the case of late) and things were going in their favor until the last few minutes of the game, when all h-e-double hockey sticks broke loose. After one batter got aboard and another was (suspiciously, if you ask me) beaned, the opposing team intentionally walked one of our guys to load the bases. Brady was the next kiddo in the batting order, but the I-walk confused everyone and his teammate took his spot instead. No one on our side noticed, that batter struck out, and then Brady came up to bat. A few pitches in, the other team's scorekeeper interrupted the game to announce that we'd batted out of order. And that was it. Game over. First place lost.

I could tell that a very confused Brady was trying to hold it together as he headed back to the dugout and he emerged from the very brief post-game meeting in tears. Abby surprised and impressed me when, upon seeing his face, she immediately gathered up all of our things (which included two stadium seats, my purse, my crochet bag, and two full-sized blankets) and ushered him toward the car. So although it was a negative situation, I'm grateful for her mature, protective response.

He was upset about losing the game, of course, and he was upset about the out-of-order batting debacle. But he was more upset that the other team intentionally walked someone to get to him. It made my heart hurt to see how much it hurt his feelings. I assured him that he's a good player, but I'm not sure that my words meant much. So tonight, I'll be praying that God will repair his hurt feelings and use them for good down the line. Because sometimes, there's not much else a mom can do.

May 9

One of my favorite things to do is to have coffee (or tea or whatever!) with people I like, so I was happy when this lovely friend asked if I'd like to meet up.

So after my Monday morning Bible study, I scooted (back) to the Mother Ship for some chat time with Barbara. She's a wonderfully kind, wise woman, and I so enjoy our chats when we have them.

Connection and friendship are essential elements of this life, so I'm grateful for her and for all of the wonderfully wise women who sit with me and talk over beverages.

May 8

We took the requisite "nice pictures" for Mother's Day this morning following church, but after perusing them all, I think I like this no-makeup, still-in-pajamas, everyone-on-the-bed one the best. If nothing else, it's the realest. And mid-40s me so loves and values authenticity.

Anyway, it was a gentle Mother's Day. There was the aforementioned church service and then the usual quick trip to the cemetery, where I knelt down by Logan's grave and took a few moments to run my finger along the curves of his printed name. Then Adam made me a pair of mimosas and I took a long, luxurious nap before dinner from CPK and a rousing game of Scrabble in the dining room. 

Part of me felt lazy for not doing more; for not wanting to go for a hike or enjoy a fancy brunch. Younger me always felt pressured to make the day special, unusual, exciting, unique. But truthfully, today I wanted to do just what I did: rest and spend time with my people. 

So I am content, and I am thankful that the sense of wistfulness I feel over Logan's absence from this picture is rooted more in longing for what will again be someday than pain over what's been lost. And I can assure you that that is no small miracle.

May 7

As I write, Abby is at the Metreon in San Francisco experiencing her Senior Ball. Big group activities aren't really her thing, so my prayer is that she's absorbing and enjoying the waning moments with her fellow members of Amador's class of 2022.

Although she didn't make her dress this go-round, she found one that captured the princess vibe she wanted. After trialing a few different looks this past week, she did her own hair and makeup. And by the time I dropped her off at the school at 4'ish to catch a chartered bus to the city, she'd already been to two friends' houses for pre-party activities (and photos! Because duh, we mom and poparazzi want those pics).

We started off at Gracie's house, where I snapped the memory on top. A little later, we headed over to Alyssa's, where Abby swapped out her strappy heels for the comfy, sparkly pink tennis shoes she bought this morning at Walmart. 

It's such a blessing to look at these images because she's known some of these girls for a long, long time, even if their respective circles haven't always overlapped. There's Gracie from church and dance in the far right on top, who has long held the Best Friend title. There's also Holly, in the center on top, with whom she's commiserated over yearbook deadlines and English classes and shared many a ridiculous meme and boatloads of sarcastic repartee.

On the bottom left, there's Sarah, who along with her brother was part of a playgroup with Abby and Logan way back when the girls were two and three years old. And a few girls over is Alyssa in green, who was Abby's prayer partner in the Zebra room at preschool when they were four.

So yes, looking at these images is like a journey through time. I'm shell-shocked that we're already here; that AP tests are over (for Abby, anyway) and that graduation is three weeks away and that her high school career is almost in the books. I mean, wasn't she just at Sarah's brother's first birthday party? And didn't she just sit in circle with Alyssa in Ms. Christina's class? 

But I'm also grateful for these moments and for these girls who have been --and hopefully will continue to be-- her encouragers and partners in silliness. Good friends are a blessing, and I am thankful that my girl has a few of her own.

May 6

I was tucked into my usual corner at the Mother Ship this morning when one of the regulars plunked down in the chair kitty-corner to my perch. We exchanged pleasantries and I asked how he was doing; he shared that he was tired because he'd been up at night worrying about his son, who recently decided to enlist in the military. I put down my crochet hook (I know, shocker) and studied his face as he expressed his fears. After a pause, I commiserated; I shared a little about our family. About uncertainty. About Logan. And about how I've never once worried about him since he died because I know where he is.

His face twisted into a pained expression as I talked and his head dropped into his hands, and then when he lifted it again, he shook it and remarked "you're a very strong woman." Then he got up, asked for a hug, and thanked me for making his day. I wished him a good weekend and then he scurried off to work, leaving me to marinate in his parting words.

The thing is, I don't think of myself as a strong person. I probably cry more than most. I yell at other drivers --sometimes creatively-- while I'm in the car. I'm impatient. I battle with feelings of inadequacy on a regular basis. So no, I'm far from strong; I'm very, very weak and would have crumbled long ago had I relied only on my own innate abilities and gifts. It's only through the power of Christ that I can function.

So I'm sure you're thinking "okay, you're not strong, but what's the deal with the sunset pic?" Well, as I watched the clouds roll in over the distant hills this evening, I was --for probably the thousandth time-- amazed by the colors: oranges, reds, and yellows that gradually gave way to deep blue and purple. 

And as I gazed, I had a thought: the clouds are an integral part of that beauty. The very clouds that are oft considered a nuisance in an otherwise pristine canvas of blue sky are transformed into amazingly beautiful creations when exposed to sunlight. Those sunbeams can turn something dull and unremarkable --even something that feels hopelessly broken-- into an object of beauty. 

We're like those clouds when we allow God to reflect His love and grace in our lives. We become resplendent. Ethereal. And maybe even strong and beautiful, too. 

So offer up your own broken bits and pieces to God. He'll no doubt use them to create something amazing.

May 5

My kids were weird again this evening.

I was sitting at Brady's baseball game chit-chatting with some fellow moms when the final out was recorded. We continued talking as the boys engaged in their post-game powwow. At some point Adam left to pick up dinner and Isaac gathered up our stadium seats and my bag and sat down next to me. And then the players emerged... and we kept talking.

The boys milled for a short time, and then Isaac and Brady started coming after me with bits of plant life they'd plucked from the ground. To simplify it all, they chased me with pollen. It may seem like an unconventional means of persuading someone to do something, but it worked. 

Annoying though it was, I'm amused by and grateful for their ability to think and problem-solve creatively. Although I don't always think of their quick thinking as a blessing, it undoubtedly is nonetheless.

May 4

I truly love the look of Spring: the flower buds and the sunshine and the warmer temps are all reminders of new life and potential. But the pollen and the other little allergens that cheerfully, wantonly flutter through the air and up my nose... not so much.

And this evening's been an especially stuffy, sneezy, drippy, congested one. So today I'm grateful for these little pink doses of antihistamine that help to make life more livable during this time of year. And I'm grateful to God for giving us the inspiration and wisdom to create medications that can help us when we're feeling less than awesome.

May 3

Adam had a dentist appointment this afternoon, so I took him there and then picked him up after I'd retrieved the boys from their respective schools (since Abby uses his car these days). 

When we got home, she was standing by the front walk, smiling like a goon. Then she ran upstairs ahead of me and into the house, where she continued smiling like a goon. All because, as I learned, she'd beaten me home.

Then she did a funky little dance, and since Brady never wants to miss out on funky dances, he joined in. So they stood there as I came up the steps from the garage, swaying their hips and staring at me. It was weird. Wonderfully weird.

This life is all too stressful sometimes. I've had more troubles than I care to count. So these moments of complete and utter strangeness that my kids generate for me are priceless. And I am thankful for them. (And for them. Even when they're wearing their gooniest grins.)

(Oh, and P.S. -- six short months from today, this girl of mine will be an adult. Happy 17 1/2, Abby!)

May 2

It was a busy Monday. Busy enough, in fact, that as I talked with my mom on the phone this evening, I couldn't remember if it was Monday or Tuesday. 

And given that this is the last month of the school year --and not just any "last month," but the last month of Abby's senior year, the last month of middle school for Isaac, and the last month of elementary school for Brady-- things are only going to get busier at Casablanca. (Wight House, get it? I'm far too easily amused at times.)

So this evening, I'm grateful for the simple blessing of sitting in my family room with a project to keep my hands busy and an A's game on TV. Small blessings are big blessings indeed.

May 1

I got to spend most of my Sunday with these people.

Our first stop was church, and afterward we scurried home, changed clothes, and set off again, this time bound for the Oakland Coliseum. (Or whatever it's current corporate-sponsored name may be.)

It was Little League Day with the A's so we were surrounded by noisy wee ones who were up and down and all around throughout the game. (So the acoustics could've been better.) And the game could've gone better; the A's didn't score at all until the bottom of the ninth, and their three-run effort didn't score the win.

But disappointments aside, it was really nice to sit with these people and watch while the Green and Gold did their thang on the field. The kiddos are definitely growing up fast, so these moments spent together are precious.