April 14

So much has changed so quickly in recent history that, believe it or not, I was almost glad when this happened at the dinner table tonight:

Brady is a notoriously picky eater, so no one was remotely surprised when he turned up his cute little nose at the chicken pot pie we ordered from a local restaurant tonight. (Thumbs up to Salt Craft!) Long after the rest of us had finished and long after I dug in my heels and told him he could have it for breakfast if he refused to taste it, he sat at his seat, that displeased look of scornful disinterest on his face. Long story longer, he eventually got up and went along with his evening (and yep, that plate will show up at the breakfast table).

Although his pickiness is ridiculous, it's almost comforting in a way, because familiarity can make things feel more natural. So for that bit of strange comfort, I'm grateful.

April 13

Today was the last day of Spring Break. (I know, I know. The past month has been so nutso that I'm not sure how we even still had a Spring Break, but it's all good.) The (not so) short people had different ideas when it came to deciding how to observe the occasion.

Abby sauntered downstairs, flashed a recipe on her phone, and announced that she wanted to bake cream cheese and butter biscuits. Cool beans. I like biscuits. Shortly thereafter --after they'd gotten their fill of the latest video game they've tried to master-- the young male folk asked if they could go in the pool. Given that they nearly froze their toes off during yesterday's very brief initial dip, I was skeptical. But they threw a ball back and forth in the water for 15 minutes before I made them get out (because dude. That water is chilly).

Anyway, my point in rehashing my kids' exploits is this: I love seeing them do things they enjoy. I love that Abby picked out a new recipe to try and I love that the boys wanted to splash around in our new pool (even if it's not really pool weather just yet). So I'm grateful to have experienced those very mundane, everyday kinds of moments today.

April 12

Just because I was curious, I looked back at my entry from last Easter just now. And in that moment, I had a strange thought: I've come much further than I'd realized.

Last year's commentary was bittersweet, with threads of sadness weaved throughout the tapestry of an otherwise decent day. But this year's... this year's is blessedly different. It's a mishmash of lighthearted and joyful and even celebratory at times, with just a single thread of sadness woven into its cloth.

It began with cinnamon rolls and Easter baskets in the family room, and then there was church online and an egg hunt in our backyard under cloudy skies. (And The Bunny was super tired after climbing those stairs.) Since I am me and I treasure my pictures, I made my people pose for a few before we headed back inside. Here's one of the better ones.

The early afternoon hours brought a trip to the cemetery with I-love-you hands waved high at the sky and then lunch for the others while I got dinner --a pot roast-- into the oven. And then there were video calls with family and our first-ever dip in the hot tub, which --given that the sun had, by that juncture, driven the clouds away leaving nothing but an expanse of blue overhead-- wasn't nearly as unpleasant or chilly as I'd worried it would be. And then Adam and I took a turn around the new neighborhood, trekking down new streets we'd not yet explored, before the oven timer dinged and dinner was served. Then there was a pair of games of 7Up played around the kitchen table and --finally-- bedtime for the boys.

And now, as I watch the light blue sky grow darker through the high windows in the family room, I can close my eyes and nod and say with certainty that it was a good day. It was a blessed day of remembering that though Logan isn't growing older with us, he still is, and he is because of Jesus. Don't misunderstand me: I don't love that sweet Sunshine of mine any less than I did on the day that he was born nor the day that he died, but I know that our separation is a temporary one. I've always known that, of course, but the I feel like my conviction is stronger than it was a year ago. And given where I've been, that's a sure sign of amazing love in action.

April 11

Adam and I did some work at the old house today and then jetted around the Sports Park loop. Then later in the day, we picked up dinner and hit Walmart because I realized --in very last-moment style-- that we were short a few things for tomorrow. Since we're living through such an odd time, I figured I'd memorialize the trip with a quick pic.

This is how we looked as we headed inside the store. It's such a peculiar experience to cover my face and deliberately avoid getting too close to other people. And I know it's weird for all of us, because now and again, I'd find myself looking at someone and thinking 'shoot, too close' and then I'd look them in the eye and see an expression that said the same thing I felt.

Weird times for sure, but today, I'm thankful for the togetherness with my hunny and for the knowledge that this weirdness (prayerfully) won't be the indefinite norm.

April 10

I went for a socially distanced walk this afternoon with my friend Angela, who happens to be Abby's pal Gracie's mom and one of our new neighbors. She didn't want me to take a pic but I assured her that it was okay because she looked cute. AmIrite? I think so.

After weeks of isolating with my people, it was so, so nice to see a familiar face and to converse --from a distance, of course-- in person. (Because holy chickens, this social deprivation stuff is hard for people who identify as even a wee bit extroverted.) And it was also nice to take another route around our new neighborhood, which I have to say I'm loving so far.

Yep. The world's craziness aside, I still see God at work when I look.

April 9

I spent most of the day waiting for our bedroom set to arrive (which it finally did... well, most of it, anyway) so I didn't get to run Brady over to the old house to complete his first round of the "what do I want to keep" game. Instead, I did some laundry and some dishes and listened to the boys playing video games in the living room and watched Abby as she floated from her room to the kitchen to the patio out back.

At one point I looked up and saw her in the backyard sitting on the steps. I think she was probably texting someone or watching YouTube, but she looked so peaceful sitting out there that I snapped a pic.

So for tranquil moments like this one, I'm grateful.

April 8

It's close week for Adam, so that means he starts early and works late (though admittedly it's a bit different since he's doing it all from home). It also means that I'm (more or less) solely responsible for meals. Since I didn't defrost anything and the kiddos like Chick Fil A, that's what we got this evening for dinner. Abby came along for the drive.

Since I was driving Adam's truck (diminished battery plus a need to get gas made my car a risky choice), Abby enjoyed flipping through the radio dial and was particularly pleased when she happened upon our old country music station. So while we waited, we car-danced and sang along to old(ish) tunes as they played and, in general, had a jolly good time together.

During this strange time, I'm definitely thankful for the constants in my life -- including this girl of mine.