January 7

This caught my eye as I was walking the kiddos home from school this afternoon:

It's just a small, bright red feather. It probably fell off of someone's jacket or shirt.

But it's still eye-catching and pretty and vibrant.

It's precisely the kind of thing that I often look at but don't really see. So I'm thankful that today, I saw it and took a minute to appreciate its generally un-noteworthy beauty.

It was quite literally a bright spot in my day.

January 6

I'm sure I've mentioned that I'm not a morning person. Even back in high school when I was trucking it to school at 6 in the morning, I wasn't a morning person. Nope: I was a bleary-eyed crankpot. But even in my most bleary-eyed, most crankpotish state, I'll admit that there are advantages to being up when the sun rises. And this is one of them:

I took this picture of the sky as I walked from the car to the school this morning to drop the kids off for their first post-break day. It was so stunning that I had to stop and take a long look at it (even though I could feel the gaggle of teenage girls across the street looking at me curiously).

It reminded me that every day is a new day ripe with opportunity and potential; a chance for something new and better dawns with every new sunrise. And that's a very big blessing.

January 5

It's important to laugh now and then. It's especially important to laugh when life isn't funny. Luckily for us, it's easy to have a good laugh when we're hanging out with these people, Adam's extended family in the Bay Area:

We had a belated Christmas party with them early this afternoon. This particular photo was taken during the annual white elephant gift exchange. While some of us emerged with actual useful items, there were plenty of gut-busters in the mix, including animal butt magnets, a ginormous wine glass and a copy of Sharknado.

I'm thankful for the healing power of humor, and for time with family.

January 4

One of the remarkable things about this blog is how it's allowed me to share vignettes from my children's lives. It's totally appropriate that they be featured prominently in these entries, since they are, after all, my greatest gifts.

With that said, we went out to lunch today. The Little Boys were off. Abby was disagreeable. The restaurant was packed so we had to settle for a small pair of tables in a corner. It was a decidedly frustrating experience watching (and listening to) them bicker about everything. When we'd all finished eating, Adam got up to use the restroom and Isaac finally settled enough to color quietly on his placement. As I relished the silence in a sort of stunned, slow-mo kind of way, I became aware of this scene across the table:

Abby sat cradling Brady's upper body in her lap, gently singing to him.

I don't remember what song she was singing, but it was quiet and soothing.

And the whole experience made me remember the importance --no, the sheer necessity-- of identifying and relishing those moments of calm in the eye of the storm of human life.

January 3

It was a long day, but at least it started off right with some serious dance moves by Brady:

I took the kiddos to Starbucks this morning so I could fill up my January coffee mug. Instead of immediately heading back home, I opted to sit for a few minutes (mainly for some sanity). While I sipped my blonde roast and Abby and Isaac lounged in a pair of big, comfy chairs (wearing, yes, their pajamas... I don't fight it some days), Brady alternately danced, drank ice water and offered up big hugs. It was a very Brady thing to do, and of course, it was also a very Logan thing to do, too. So I soaked it up with a grateful heart, fully aware that my muffin may be a little nutty, but he won't be like this for long. And some day, when fear of judgment kicks in, I'll miss his joyful exuberance.

January 2

I peeked in on Brady during his nap this afternoon and saw this:

Bear Bear is a good friend to my little muffin. I know I've mentioned it before, but Logan gave Brady Bear Bear for Christmas in 2011, and Brady just adores his fuzzy friend.

This sight reminded me of the blessing of friendship, and of how much comfort we can derive from friends if we're open to receiving it. A happy thought indeed.

January 1

I hoped to have something truly, amazingly spectacular for today's entry. After all, today begins the second year of this God wink-seeking escapade of mine. But nothing really blew me away... at least, not at first glance.

When I saw this during our walk this afternoon, I was immediately struck by the obvious (albeit unintentional) symbolism:

It felt a little lackluster as far as first-posts-of-new-years go, but it felt like the right choice. So I stuck with it. And then, a few hours later, I got it.

It's not just a heart on a tree. Nope. It's a reminder that love is literally everywhere. This world was created by love. And the good things in it exist because of love. So I think it's beautifully poetic that the new year should begin with a visual representation of that all-encompassing affection that is, at its most basic level, rooted in God Himself.