February 28

I love it when my kids share things with me: their hopes, recaps of their days, the occasional drawing (which yes, some of them still do! Abby is quite talented). Stuff like that. I do not love it when one of those things is an illness.

But Brady did just that: he shared his cold. And it is a brutal one. I started sneezing (a lot) yesterday and by last night, I was a mess: sneezing, runny nose, congestion, headache, all the good stuff.

So it's probably not surprising that I didn't sleep well. Nor is it surprising that when I got up this morning, one of my main objectives for the day was to acquire the stuff over there to the left. 

And so I did. And although I still don't feel great, I feel better. So I'm thankful for medicines that can help us cope (and generally function) when we're sick. 

February 27

The weird weather trend continued this afternoon with a 60-second surprise.

I was resting in my room when the rainfall that started and stopped and started again all day long abruptly became aggressive. And then came the unmistakable plink, plink, plink against the windowpane. 

I got up to take a quick peek and sure enough, the front yard was dotted with tiny balls of ice. Hail.

I padded into the family room and found Isaac and Brady staring out the windows into the backyard. They were transfixed by the icy pellets that coated the deck and lined the outdoor furniture cushions, so they stepped outside for a look. 

Since life so often works that way, the hail petered out just as they put out their respective hands to touch it, but they were still awed by the sight. 

And even though I grew up with ice and snow, I was awed too, because it reminded me that the Author of Life can insert some pretty amazing and unlikely vignettes into our stories. Snow in unusual places? Sure, why not. Sun and then heavy rain and then sun? Cool. And more profoundly speaking, healing in places and relationships and situations that feel hopelessly broken? Absolutely. 

I got all of that from 60 seconds of hail. Just think of what God could do with 60 seconds of your time.

February 26

At one point this afternoon, I found the boys in the living room (known as my Pretty Room during the Christmas season but not nearly as pretty right now) playing a spirited game of "grab the empty fry box" with the sticky hands they received in Theo and Melody's birthday treat bags yesterday.

It was utterly bizarre, but they whooped and hollered and laughed like it was the best game ever invented.

I remarked that they should be careful not to aim at each other's eyes, and as I headed back toward the bedroom, Brady went off in search of a few pairs of swimming goggles to address my concern.

I'm grateful for how well they amuse each other and for their creativity. And that one of them took my advice seriously! Some days that in and of itself feels like a miracle.

February 25

We've had some unusually cold weather of late. For example, this was taken from the freeway this afternoon as we were driving home from Theo and Melody (our nephew and niece)'s joint birthday party. It's about two miles from our exit.

The fact that there's snow on the hills may not make much of an impression of those of you who live in areas where it actually snows, but generally speaking, it doesn't snow here. Ever. As in in the 23 years I've lived in Northern California, I've never seen snow on those particular hills. A few white spots at the tippy top of Mount Diablo (which extends significantly further into the upper atmosphere than these piddly things) now and then, but that's it. 

So today, I'm grateful for notable novelties that make this life more interesting.

February 24

I wasn't sure if I was going to make it to tea at church this morning, but I did and I'm so glad it worked out.

I sat at a table with four lovely women who I'm pleased to call friends while I nibbled on a piece of cake with jam. And I drank tea, of course.

It was all very pleasant and fun. I've been feeling a little bit spiritually tired of late, so it was just the proverbial shot in the arm that I needed. And I am thankful for it.

February 23

Isaac and Brady are always hugging (or fighting). So I wasn't terribly surprised when, as we were getting ready to head down to the car this morning, little bro grabbed big bro. I think he was actually trying to knock him over, but they looked sweet so I'm ignoring that part.

I know I've said this many (many) times over the past several years, but I so love their love for each other. I love that they play well together and that even when the wheels fall off the bus of their relationship, they're able to recover quickly and go back to being the Broskis.

It's a beautiful thing.

February 22

I came across these boots at Walmart this morning. They were $8 on clearance, so after mulling the decision for about five seconds, I scooped them up and they came home with me.

I have a thing for glitter --particularly the kind that doesn't rub off and attach to anything and everything-- so these were a no-brainer for me. 

I was extra gratified when I wore them out this evening to a high school baseball function and discovered that it was (unexpectedly) raining when we went outside after. If I'd worn my tennis shoes, I'd have had wet feet! But my glitter boots kept me nice and dry.

I guess this is a goofy entry, but sometimes I'm a goof. So today I'm grateful for how something as basic as glitter can lift my mood.

February 21

I came across this post among my Facebook memories earlier today and it make me chuckle.

In case the print is too small to read, it's from nine years ago today and notes that Abby was dressed like she threw up a rainbow again. 

I texted the image to Abby, who was appalled by her younger self's questionable fashion choices. (Or, as she quipped after an extra moment of reflection, "several contradictory choices existing at the same time." I swear, that girl of mine cracks me up sometimes with her wordsmithiness.)

Anyway, this post just reinforced the truth I touched upon yesterday: I love this girl. I loved her then and I love her now, whether she's dressed in current couture or a pool of rainbow vomit. She's a blessing regardless of her choice of personal presentation. And that's no small thing.

February 20

I first heard about Prez Ball at Wheaton way back when the school year first started. I still don't really understand the point of it (except that it apparently happens on President's Day and is an excuse to get dressed up and have fun), but today's the day: they're eating pretzel bites and mac and cheese and singing karaoke (well, probably not my daughter, if I hazard a guess) and looking for a stuffie wedding at the House of Blues in Chicago as I type. Here she is with her besties before they boarded the bus.

I love my girl. She is so much more dear to me than I ever imagined possible back before she was born 18-plus years ago. And because these other girls are important to her and have meant so much to her over the past several months, I've grown to love them, too. They're always included in my prayers and I genuinely like hearing what they're up to when Abby gives her updates. They're my girl's girls.

So today, I'm so thankful that God gives us friends like hers to help us navigate this oft-challenging, twist-filled life. They're a blessing beyond what any of us ever truly deserve who add so much fun and flavor and life to living.

February 19

I fully admit that this is repetitive, but I have a good reason for posting it. (I think.)

This was tonight's sunset. I took the photo because of the lovely colors and the striking contrast between them and the gray and blue sky. It wasn't going to be my "moment" for the day.

But then I noticed a heart in the middle of those orangey clouds that stretched out like wide, open arms in all directions. And somehow, the whole picture came together for me and wound up looking like a big, Heavenly hug. 

And we could all use a little more love, right?

February 18

The sunset this evening was so lovely.

Although my image doesn't do it justice, it was a sigh-inducing blend of pinks and purples and oranges that prompted me to run to a window to capture its splendor for posterity's sake.

Even the most uneventful of days can be capped off by displays of spectacular artwork in the sky. And I think that's something to celebrate.

February 17

It wound up being such a lovely Friday morning. I started off by swinging by the Mother Ship after drop-offs for some Terry-time before jetting over to Bill's Cafe to have breakfast with Nikki and Pam (her mom).

While they headed out so Nikki could fix a wonky contact lens, I took my chocolate chip pancake and coffee-laden belly around the loop at the Sports Park, where I happened upon my pal Sally (who was with her own mom. It's mom-day!). Sally is the mom of one of Isaac's Spartans/Rays teammates and I hadn't seen her in several months, so I got to spend much of my walk catching up with her.

So yes. Given that connecting with friends is one of my favorite things to do, I felt very blessed.

February 16

I think I've mentioned this before, but Isaac tends to fall asleep in strange places. Like one day a week or so ago, I noticed that his light was still on as I was heading to bed. When I climbed the stairs to check, I found him asleep on the floor in a beanbag chair with his favored trio of dog stuffies tucked underneath his head. (I turned off the light and left him as he was.)

So I was less than surprised when, after baseball practice and dinner this evening, he claimed my big plaid blanket and settled onto the family room floor for a quick pre-homework, pre-bedtime naplet. 

Given how much life changes from day to day, I'm thankful for this little bit of predictability at our house.

February 15

I've been remiss with my baseball talk: in addition to Isaac playing for his high school team, Brady's season has also begun.

I snapped a quick pic of us as I walked him over to the field for practice with his team --the Majors Phillies-- this afternoon. I was a little taken aback when I looked at the image because although he's still markedly shorter than me, the gap has closed more than I'd realized. 

My baby is most definitely growing up. And I'm so blessed to be able to watch him continue to mature.

February 14

Given Adam's foot situation, we had a laid back kind of Valentine's Day.

After we dropped the boys off at Youth Group, we drove over to the Cheesesteak Shop to pick up our dinner, which we then brought home and enjoyed at the kitchen table (which was brightened by the red and white roses he very sweetly hobbled out to buy me first thing this morning).

Since we've been a couple for quite a long while now, we've had a wide range of Valentine experiences over the years, from a fancy place in Newport Beach back in college to pizza at home in formal wear when the shorties were little to tonight's fare. And every single one has been a blessed addition to the book of our life story. 

And for all of those pages, I am grateful.

February 13

This kid right here is one of the newest members of the Amador Valley High School baseball family. After a week of tryouts that featured many ups and downs and lots of harsh self-criticism and ferocious mood swings, he learned this morning that he'd made the Freshman team.

Isaac's had his eye on the high school diamond for years now. I can clearly recall the first time he caught sight of the Varsity field back when we were dropping Abby off at school a number of years ago. I remember his wide-eyed musings about what high school tryouts were like. I could sense the excitement in his tone even then.

To see him achieve that goal years later is an enormous blessing.

Congrats Isaac! And thanks to God for helping this boy of mine to realize a dream. Now let's go Dons!

February 12

I wasn't interested in the Super Bowl this go-round, so while the boys took in the game this afternoon, I hunkered down in the bedroom to crochet and watch "Criminal Minds." 

All was calm until a few minutes after dinner, when a loud set of thumps followed by a succession of "no, no, no"s startled me from my perch on the bed. I opened the bedroom door and found Adam sprawled across the floor in obvious pain. He'd missed a step while carrying the laundry basket downstairs and down he went.

Long story short, I drove him over to urgent care, where we learned that he has a small fracture in his left ankle. So it's crutches, a splint, and a referral for a follow-up for him. 

I know he's frustrated, but I'm just thankful that it wasn't worse. And I have a story to share too: this morning at church, my friend Laura stopped me to chat. After we talked a little about Logan, she said that she'd taken her mom to the urgent care in Dublin and highly recommended the service there. It seemed like a completely random line of commentary and even she seemed puzzled as to why she was bringing it up, but then just hours later, there we were in that very urgent care facility. (And she was right -- they were very efficient!) It's so funny when God gives those little hints, isn't it? It's a good reminder for me that He's in ALL things -- even the not-great ones.

February 11

Eleven years ago today, I held Logan in my arms as he took his last breath. He was tired, I know, so for him it was a blessing to go on ahead to Heaven. But for me... it's never easy to be left behind; to wonder about the whys and the what-ifs and to cope with the wildly swinging emotions that impact life from the moment of loss onward. It's a winding, lonely road that no one asks to walk. So looking back can be hard.

But it was a good day of remembering, I think, even if it was low-key. Adam and I donated blood in the morning; when I sat down in the waiting area, I looked over, spied package of "Kars" trail mix in a basket, and chuckled to myself. A little later in the day, Adam made chocolate chip cookies and then spaghetti and meatballs for dinner (both Logan-favorites) and we video chatted with Abby. Eventually, we closed out the day by watching "Cars." 

As I sit here and reflect, I'm not entirely sure what to write. I guess more than anything, I'm deeply grateful that gradually, over the past 11 years, my pain has been given a purpose. I'm thankful that God has used my experience --the hurt, the loss, the anger, the desperation, the hopelessness-- to speak into the lives of others who wonder if their current forays into darkness will ever end. (Spoiler alert: they will.) I'm thankful that when I think of Logan now, the good memories trump the hard ones. I'm thankful that over time, the edges of that suffering have dulled. And more than anything, I'm grateful that Logan is in Heaven and that I'll see him again. 

February 10

To say I've been a bit spacy this week would be something of an understatement. And on top of that, I was still quite tired when my alarm clock had the gall to go off this morning. 

But I made myself get up an do my Morning Things. And then I headed over to the Sports Park so Nikki and I could take our as of late customary trot around the loop.

Tiredness aside, it was a really, really good walk and talk. And as I've said several times in recent history, I'm grateful for her and for our connection.

February 9

The boys had their annual well check-ups today. Rather than jostle for after-school timeslots, I opted for readily available back-to-back morning appointments, which meant taking them to school and then picking them up from school and then taking them back to school (and then picking them up again later). But that's neither here nor there.

Not many people would take multiple photos during a standard, ho-hum trip to the pediatrician's office, but I did because Isaac and Brady were in top form. 

They were both happy to be picked up from their respective schools. They saluted me as I emerged from the restroom prior to entering the doctor's office. They did jumping jacks in the exam room as we awaited the doctor's arrival. Isaac laid on the exam table and Brady responded by giving him a ninja-esque "massage." They were thoroughly amused by and with one another. Fortunately, despite the frenetic motion, they were quiet so I didn't have to get my shush on.

And eventually, the doctor arrived, and they were deemed healthy, growing boys who should continue to grow. (And grow and grow.) 

It was an experience. But I'm grateful for these goofballs who always manage to keep life interesting with their antics.

February 8

I have this unfortunate habit of getting two-thirds (or even three-quarters) of the way through a project and then putting it down... indefinitely. There are many (many) blankets, shawls, sweaters, and so on in various states of completion tucked into various crannies around my house.

So earlier this week I decided to commit myself to actually finishing some of these items. Since there are so many of them and I've been lousy about writing down the details, it's been a challenge to find the patterns I was using and the correct hook sizes, but the satisfaction of making progress on them has been gratifying.

So today I'm thankful to have the motivation to get them done.

February 7

Adam and I went to dinner downtown tonight. As we pulled into a parallel parking space, I saw this in front of us and laughed aloud.

In case you're unaware, Rust-eze was Lightning McQueen's racing sponsor in Cars.

It was almost as if Logan was saying 'hey guys!' And it was extra-specially appropriate given the anniversary that's coming later on this week.

'Twas an unexpected blessing of immeasurable worth.

February 6

There's something very satisfying about crocheting with thread and a tiny hook.

It takes lots of time to actually make anything with thread, of course, but once those chains come together and a lightweight, lacy creation takes shape, there's a feeling of calm that comes over me that I can't quite describe. It's freeing.

It is, I think, human nature to want things to be done quickly, but creating some things --like handmade lace-- takes time and genuine effort and patience.

It's so good to be reminded that beautiful things take time to develop, because Heaven knows I --like my partially completed doily-- am still very much a work in progress.

February 5

This is actually a picture of Brady trying to get away from Isaac at church this morning.

But I so love it.

I love how I can almost hear their laughter just looking at it. I love their mid-giggle grins. And I love how it shows the closeness, the sense of comfort and belonging that bonds them together as not just brothers, but really good friends.

That connection is a true gift from God. And I'm grateful that I've gotten to watch it bloom and grow over the years.

February 4

I was up early this morning for a Session (Elders' Board) meeting at the Mother Ship and went for a walk with Adam a little before noon, but otherwise, it was a very low-energy day for me that involved lots of crocheting and watching SVU.

So it was a blessing to spend some time playing Unstable Unicorns with the menfolk after dinner. 

Simple times can certainly be sweet times and I'm grateful for that truth.

(Sorry about Queen Bee, Abby. It had to be done.) (<-- Oh, and she's not home. There was a text message.)

February 3

When I got to the mall this morning to walk with Nikki, my phone wouldn't work.

I tapped and pushed buttons and tried everything I could think of to elicit a response, but no dice. After 15 minutes of fruitless attempts, we may our way to the Apple Store, where an extremely young and helpful employee showed me how to power it down (click volume up, click volume down, then hold down the power button until the apple appears. Not at all complicated). And then voila, it worked!

With a great sense of relief, we finished our stroll. Then just a little while ago, as I was thinking about what I'd write tonight, I saw a series of photos in my album like the one to the left. Initially I was puzzled, but then I realized that my many attempts to restart my phone had resulted in numerous screenshots. 

So today I'm grateful that I just happened to be at a mall that has an Apple Store right when my phone decided to be a contrarian. (And for the camera roll full of proof that God has a quirky sense of humor.)

February 2

Brady is a big do-er. When he was very small, I dreaded passing signs that advertised sports programs because invariably, he'd look up at me with those cute doe eyes and ask if he could try it. (It's not that I didn't want him to do anything; it's more that I knew I couldn't handle him doing everything. Which he totally would've tried to do.)

Lately he's been into cooking, so this morning he got up, took his shower, and then skittered down to the kitchen to make pancakes. It was one of those just-add-water pouches, but he carefully followed the instructions and the cakes came out quite well.

I love that he's open to new experiences. Given that this life is a big adventure and that we never know what God will call us to do, his do-er'ness is --and without doubt will continue to be-- a big blessing to himself and to others.

February 1

For some time now, Brady's been talking about acquiring a blue unicorn to go with his pink one. (I have no idea why he likes unicorns so much but there ya go.) So during a mall trip this morning, when I saw that this was the very last blue unicorn at Miniso, I bought it and brought it home, where it elicited the strangest and most gleeful squeal from Brady when he got home from school. But before then, I walked around the mall with Flabbycorn (as Brady named him) tucked under my arm.

During a conversation with a store clerk, she stopped and gestured toward the unicorn, smiled, and said something that stuck with me for the rest of the day: I love that you have the confidence to walk around like that. I mulled the statement for a moment, smiled, and made some random remark in return. But my mind kept a'churnin'.

I haven't always been confident. At all, really. Younger me could've won first place ribbons for 'least self-confidence' and 'most likely to doubt herself and her decisions.' I was so afraid of judgment and censor that I almost never spoke in class. But today, the sales woman was correct: I didn't care about all about who might be looking at me. 

I'm not sure when that confidence became a thing, but I'm thankful for it. It's a beautiful sign of the transformative power of faith in God.