July 14

I found out today that my dance class had been canceled. I try hard to be genuine, even when it means I may embarrass the heck out of myself, so I'll admit that I spent most of the evening in tears. So many tears, in fact, that my head is absolutely aching right now, and I've literally run out of them.

I went back to tap dancing last Fall because I needed something to make me feel alive again after Logan died. I danced for 14 years as a child and teen, and it was something that always brought me a hearty measure of enjoyment and, well, plain old joy. And the fact that I could take lessons in the very same place where Logan took his lone year of dance meant so much to me. And I did have fun. It gave me an escape. And it made me feel like Logan wasn't so far away after all.

So I was --and I don't use the word lightly-- devastated to find out today that it was over. Gone. Poof.

The kids knew something was wrong as we took our evening walk. I wore a hat and sunglasses to hide my eyes, and both Abby and Isaac asked Adam what was going on. So he told them. And they made me these:

I can't say that the pictures magically made it all better, because they didn't. I don't get over disappointment that easily, especially when it's so completely unexpected and painful. But it reminded me that even though they're young and they do things to make me feel like a failure just about every day, they try hard to be good and compassionate when it really matters. And for that realization and that sweet truth, I'm thankful.

And I'm hoping that I'll find somewhere else to dance, and that in time I'll believe the words I've heard whispered into my ear multiple times today: I'll be wherever you are, mommy.

July 13

About two years ago, we took Logan, Abby and Isaac to see Cars 2 in a theater. Today we went back, this time with Brady in tow, to see Monsters University. It was the littlest man's first time seeing a film on the big screen.

It was amusing to watch him sitting there in his too-big-for-him seat, completely mesmerized by the previews and then the beginning of the film.

I can't say that I have a whole lot of down-time with the kids in my daily life --it's mostly go-go-go time with them-- so it was a blessing to be able to just sit in the darkness with my sweethearts and be entertained for a little while.

July 12

I guess I've been big on the concept of freedom lately.

Abby and Isaac played with some bubble wands in the back yard this evening and I felt compelled to use an image from that escapade as today's entry:

There's just something so magical about the way bubbles bob and float through the air. And have you ever watched a kid watching bubbles? They're like happy pills for children, I swear. The smiles and gleeful shrieks are hard to reproduce.

I've been trying to string together a cogent commentary here, but it's just not happening. So just look at the bubbles and remember when you viewed them with childlike wonder. And then turn around and look at other simple, little things in your world with the same sense of awe.

July 11

I blinked and bam, I'm halfway to my next birthday. It's insanity, I tell ya.

Anyway, this is how Isaac dressed himself today:

He's the only kid of my four who primps and preens in the mirror. And he's always had a fascinating fashion sense, often pairing button-down collared shirts with plaid shorts and sandals. Today, he went with Spiderman sandals, tan corduroys, a Captain America t-shirt and a burgundy velveteen button-down vest.

Now for the tie-in. The sight of him in his outfit reminded me that he's growing up. He's old enough to pick his own clothes and to dress himself. Though some days I feel like time is passing too quickly, I'm keenly aware that it's a huge blessing to be able to see my children grow up into responsible adults. And it also reminded me that God views ALL of us with the same bemused wonder that I feel when I look at Isaac in his funky fashion picks.

July 10

I found this in our front yard while I was on my way out this afternoon.

It's a spent dandelion, but my kiddos call them wishers.

There's something so delicate about wishers. Just one good puff of air --or one good puff from a two year-old's lungs-- and the lighter-than-air seeds scatter and disappear. Just like that.

There's something so romantic about that kind of freedom. And the wisher's freedom reminded me of my own, which is very real, even though I often feel choked by my circumstances.

July 9

Abby spent the night at Adam's parents' house. When she came home this afternoon, this lovely, colorful mishmash of flowers she plucked from their yard came along for the ride.

I'm used to seeing flowers, but not quite so many different kinds in the same bouquet. They're beautiful. And they remind me that beauty can come in many, many, many different colors and sizes and forms. And that is a picture-perfect kind of blessing, especially given how many aspects of this world are just plain ugly.

July 8

I love having my kids around during the summer. (Really, I do. I'm not joking.) But I really, really miss having daily adult interaction. Girl-time.

That's why instant messenger (and yes, Facebook chat) are blessings to me. They give me a means of keeping in touch --and interacting-- with friends in a casual manner each day, throughout the day.

They're just a few more of those little things I don't spend much time mulling over that make my life more fun.