July 7

We went for a walk this evening, as we often do on warm, weekend nights. We followed one of our usual paths and saw the usual sights and heard the usual sounds. It was mundane. But also familiar. And there's a degree of comfort in that which is familiar.

Like this tree. I've passed it probably hundreds of times over the past several years, but I've never really stopped to look at it. And why would I? It's just a plain old tree, after all, and it looks nearly identical to every other tree of its ilk. But it's part of the background scene of my life, and chances are good that I'd notice if it disappeared. It reminded me that the tiny details of our existence --even the ones that seem completely inconsequential-- matter. And it reminded me of exactly how good God is at planning every bitty bit of human life.

July 6

I grew up a Fair kid. My grandpa was a founder of our county fair --which is no small event-- and my mom and grandma both worked in one of the exhibitor buildings. I accrued enough volunteer hours that I'm a lifetime member of the agricultural association, in fact (and if you know me personally, I betcha wouldn't have guessed that!). I always looked forward to our week there every August and relished seeing the familiar faces. It's an interesting experience, seeing the same people just once a year. But anyway.

Today, we went to our local county fair.

It's not the same, of course, because we're in CA and I grew up in MD. But it's the same idea, so it's a wonderful little shot of nostalgia for me. And those nostalgic moments are a blessing to me. And it's also a blessing to see the kiddos having fun, whether it be by watching the pig races or taking part in the kids' tractor pull (which I also did as a kid; surprise number two!) or taking our annual silly photo booth pictures.

It was, all in all, a good day.

July 5

My focus here, from the first of the year onward, has been almost exclusively on positive, happy winks. But I do think it's possible to get quieter, softer, more subtle ones, too. The kind that make you... think. And here's today's:

This afternoon, we went to the park. The temperature dropped 30 degrees today and it was beautiful outside. At one point, the kiddos decided they wanted to swing. And I watched as one by one, they chose their seats. Abby, an empty swing, Isaac, Brady. In that order.

The empty swing.

As soon as I took the picture, the deep significance of the scene hit me like a freight train. I don't know if they did it with conscious intent, but it was so poignant that they sat in their birth order. And that they left a spot for Logan. And not just a spot, but the correct spot.

He's here, in whatever way he can be. And I'm so grateful for that truth. And I'm grateful that he's still so very alive in the other kids' hearts that they continue to include him in their daily routine.

July 4

After spending a very chill day at home, we made a last-minute decision to drive to Livermore to watch some fireworks from the side of a local road. We arrived around dusk, found a nice viewing spot, and parked. Adam took the Little Boys outside in their pjs to watch, while Abby and I stayed inside with our respective door and window open. Despite the high temperature earlier in the day, the evening was perfectly temperate and lovely.

Once the sun had set sufficiently, the show began, and the display was really nice. Since I'm incredibly set in my ways with this blog, I had to use my phone to take a picture of a picture I took during the show with my DSLR (I know, I know, silly). The quality isn't as good as the original of course, but it still encapsulates the pure beauty of the celebration:

There are plenty of ways that this experience reminds me of God. For one, it afforded us an unusual sort of family time as we sat outside watching the evening sky light up over and over again. For another, the white lights themselves are just so stunning as they reach up to the heavens and arch and bend into impressive formations that I know He had to have something to do with their creation.

The outing may or may not (ahem) have been marred slightly when a certain young girl threw up violently toward the end of the display, but eh, that too is a reminder that we can still enjoy special occasions even when they don't go quite as we'd imagined they would.

Because enjoy we did.

July 3

I won't lie: every time I get within a mile of CHO, I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack. But life is, in many ways, at least partly about facing your own demons, so I go when I need to go. And today was one of those days. Isaac's been having issues with hearing for the past month, so he was referred to an ENT at... CHO.

I felt a sense of anxiety as I drove into that old, too-familiar parking garage. Said anxiety increased as Isaac, Brady and I rode in the elevator. While we waited to be called back to see the doctor, I thought I might throw up.

But I didn't. And Isaac had a productive visit (ear tubes and adenoid removal in his future, for anyone interested). And we got to see Molly again.

I've posted about Molly before, but just so you don't have to scroll back, I'll remind you that she's the hem/onc NP at CHO. And that Logan absolutely adored her. And so did we. Still do, really. She has a huge heart for the kids she takes care of. And I believe 100% that she loved Logan, too. And that will endear her to my heart forever.

It was good to stand there and catch up for a few minutes. She brought a sense of peace to my otherwise stressful visit. And she told me that she still thinks of Logan, which to a mom like me, means SO much more than I can say with mere words. And for all of that, I'm thankful.

July 2

I'm a broken record, but dude, it's hot out.

This is the control pad to my house's air conditioner:

After going to the store earlier today to get some Gatorade and diaper cream, it was nice to come home to a nice, cool house. A little but often gravely underappreciated convenience of the current era.

July 1

We went to Bed, Bath and Beyond today to buy some spoons. (Yes, just spoons. Don't ask.) As we milled around the flatware area, Abby suddenly exclaimed hey, look! And when I did, I saw this:

It's one of those kids' water bottles. And the name on it... Logan.

The truly strange thing? It was completely out of place. There wasn't another bottle like it in sight. Someone just... put it there. And we found it.

Kind of perfect.

And because I wasn't riding high enough on that, when we got to the checkout counter, the disposable bags next to the register featured none other than Lightning McQueen. I looked around, sure that there were others counters with the same bags, but no: the other registers featured bags picturing the likes of Tinker Bell, Disney Princesses and Spiderman. But not Cars.

A double-whammy of feel-good winkage to kick off Logan's birthday month.