April 30

I woke up feeling sad; Logan's "re-birthday" is later this week and though I hadn't really actively processed it, the nearing of the date pressed on my heart (as it has every year). And then a brutal headache set in that plagued me for much of the day. So when I sat down to write, I was pretty sure I hadn't taken any photos today. But I was wrong, because I did take one. This one:

While Adam and the Little Boys headed south to have a broken cell phone repaired, Abby and I went to Target for some window shopping therapy. As we wandered through the girls' department, Abby sifted through the racks in search of the most interesting items she could find. And this, of course, was among the most interesting of all. She asked me to take a pic, so I did.

I guess this is probably a carbon copy of yesterday's remarks, but this girl is my favorite girl on the planet. She's smart, multitalented, and funny, and when she's not being a sassy pre-teen, she truly does make my life infinitely better. And that is a blessing that's as bright as a neon yellow mini skirt.

April 29

Given my life experience and how I know that being negative doesn't really help, I try to be as glass-is-half-full as I can. But I haven't had the most fun couple of days. I guess I'd sum it up by saying that I'm tired. My mind is tired and my heart is tired. And there are plenty of ways in which I'd like to just stop trying, but I know that wouldn't be productive --or particularly helpful-- so I did something this evening that's historically lifted my mood a bit: I walked with my girl. As she's gotten older, I've found that I can tell her more and more of what's eating me, so I told her that I'm feeling tired and unappreciated and like I want to step back and not do as much in the future. She listened, which is really all I wanted someone to do. And then, as we headed back to the house, we got a little silly (as is our custom).

We both spied a rather loaf-y kitty in a driveway, so we stopped to summon said loaf-cat to us. Kitty complied, meowing and swishing her tail, but she refused to let us pet her. Instead, she trotted a few steps ahead, and at one point, she crossed the street. Abby instinctively pulled on her imaginary leash, which made me laugh. And this image was born.

It didn't fix all that ails me, but it was a start. And sometimes, a start has to be good enough.

April 28

Adam was in Munich on business this week, so I've been flying solo. I was up too last night berating myself for a handful of missteps, so by the time this morning rolled around, I was pretty mentally tired. But a quick peek inside Brady's backpack saved the day.

Since my kids go to public school, I'm guessing this is a "Spring Egg," but my eye was immediately drawn to the golden spot in the center: the cross. Brady drew a cross on his egg.

I mess up every single day. Whether the screw-up is in the form of being excessively sharp with one (or more) of my children or impatient with a driver who's moving a little too slowly (or too quickly) for my taste or speaking before fully analyzing the impact of my words, one thing is for sure: I'm going to make some sort of error. But as Brady's egg reminds me, I have the cross. And I'm endlessly thankful that the cross trumps the mess that is so often me.

April 27

Brady and I watched a snail travel a foot across our driveway this morning. (I know. Glamorous.)

It was a lovely day out and we had some time to use up before kindergarten, so I encouraged him to crouch down and observe the little guy as he moved along. It actually was quite interesting; he worked and worked and made very little progress --it actually took seven minutes and 30 seconds to travel those 12 inches-- but he just kept creeping along.

I definitely feel like a snail sometimes; like I'm working harder than my outward accomplishments might indicate. But also like Mr. Snail, I try to keep moving even when the path isn't entirely clear or obvious. I have many (many, many) flaws, but I'm thankful that God gave me a sense of stick-to-it'iveness.

April 26

Yep, this is another baseball post. It's been a very baseball-y week.

Isaac's team played again today. It was their third game in five days, so honestly, I didn't have high expectations because that's a lot of ball for a bunch of eight and nine-year olds. But they surprised me. They didn't win --far from it, really-- but it was totally obvious that they were having fun, and some of that fun translated to good at-bats. And much of the fun originated with these two goofballs:

I wound up being the Adult Game Coordinator by default, so I spent the game in the dugout. As is often the case during after-school games, the boys were quiet during the first inning, so I pushed them to pay attention and cheer for each other. And then Aiden (who is on the left, next to Isaac) took the reigns. And let me tell you something: the "little but mighty" moniker definitely defines this kid. He and Isaac --and eventually, the other boys-- cheered every teammate who came up to the plate for the rest of the game.

They may not end the season with a winning record, but if they can approach every game left with this kind of good cheer, they'll definitely be winners in my book.

(Incidentally, in case you wondered --family, I'm looking in your direction-- Isaac had two hits and struck out three batters, which earned him the game ball.)

April 25

Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed, I just go ahead and throw the kitchen sink into the mix. That's kind of what I did when I volunteered to go on Isaac's field trip this morning. It was a simple enough trip: just a quick drive downtown, a stop at the Museum on Main Street to hear about town history, and then an easy walking tour that featured several historical buildings. This is our little group:

I've been on all of the third grade field trips this year, so I've been gifted with the opportunity to get to know several of the kids in Isaac's class, including these two boys, A and P. Simply put, they crack me up. They're intelligent and ask thoughtful questions, and --for the most part!-- they listen to direction and don't act like hooligans (though we did have our moments during today's expedition).

It seems like Abby was in the third grade just yesterday so I know the next several years will fly by, too. It's a blessing to be able to share fun "extra" days with all of my kids.

April 24

I didn't sleep well overnight and had a headache from the moment I turned off my alarm clock, so I had low expectations for today. But in spite of my negative outlook, this particular Monday wasn't bad at all: I got some work done, went to Isaac's 'Take Your Parent to PE' day at school (and will no doubt pay for that little act of love tomorrow morning), and watched Isaac's team win a game this evening while chatting it up with a friend. All good things. So it's not really surprising to me that I wasn't sure what to write about this evening. But then Abby showed me this:

It's an excerpt from the book she read for her Individual Reading project in Language Arts this quarter. I have something of a big mouth so it's hard to render me speechless, but this particular exchange between the characters --and in particular, the paragraph toward the center of the image-- managed to accomplish the feat.

After collecting my thoughts, I croaked "Profound." Abby nodded (and after I confirmed the meaning of said word), so she said "It's almost like I can hear Logan saying it."

I can, too. He may not have been with us nearly long enough, but he made every second count. And I'm thankful that this random bit of dialogue --spoken by a character named Logan-- is around to remind me of the truth that though his race was short, it was run with a tremendous amount of heart.