Girl Talk

Dear Dana, and eventually Eliza, and especially Cora,

A few days ago we made a quick trip to Walgreens because your father had been hit with the plague that is Influenza 2013, and he needed some meds to survive it. Meds meaning Nyquil, so he could just fall asleep for the next seven days until his body decided to start acting human again.

As we were stopped in one of the aisles a woman started to walk past us, took stock of you three little girls, peeked into the carseat inside the cart and caught a glimpse of one sleeping boy. And then she said something along the lines of this. "Oh! How lucky! You finally got your boy!". I'm not sure what I said in response, probably just a polite smile and a generic, "Yeah, he's a keeper", and then turned around, hoping you girls were all preoccupied enough picking out your gummy vitamins to have heard the exchange.

But when I looked down at you, Dana, there was an expression on your face that only lasted for about a millisecond, but it was so transparent and it spoke volumes into what was running through your head and going on inside your heart in that brief moment in time . I'm not even sure how to explain what I saw, but it pierced my very soul. The look was part hurt, part confusion, and part just plain sad. And of course I knew why. It came about as a result of hearing the exact same conversation you are on the listening end of almost every time I take you four children with me anywhere. The whole, unintentionally hurtful, "You finally got your boy" conversation. Just like you, I do not like those words, and I often have to keep myself from covering your ears when someone says them to me while you and your sisters are anywhere in the vicinity.

Honey(s), I know there will be many hurtful things said to you or around you in this lifetime. And in the grand scheme of things this one is probably going to be relatively minor. You are what you are, our family is what it is, and you love your brother with all your heart. But this idea that Jones is somehow more valued or special to us because he is our only boy is one hurtful thing that I can easily clear up and hopefully have not be a hurtful thing anymore.

My sweet girls, there is no truth in what that woman said other than the indisputable fact that after giving birth to three girls, I gave birth to a boy. I can understand why it is assumed by some that the birth of Jones was in some way more exciting or more meaningful to your father and me than the birth of you three girls. But I can also assure with 100% certainty that it was not. Back when Daddy and I were considering trying for a fourth child, it was of utmost importance to both of us that the other one knew that we were not having another baby to have a baby boy, we were having another baby to have another baby. The gender of this child was of absolutely no importance. Which is also why we chose not to find out if Jones was a boy or a girl when we had the chance, because we simply did not care. We just felt blessed, so blessed, so very blessed to be able to bring another child into our family.

And to Cora: I, too, was the third girl in the family with the only boy to follow. And I can remember many times wondering if there was any disappointment at my birth, any brief moments of sadness that followed the words, "It's a girl!", any thoughts of, "Really? Again?" that ran through my parents (especially my father's) mind. And I am so thankful that Nana drilled it into my head at a very young age how Papa had said to her before they got pregnant with me that he didn't want to have another baby if she thought he needed a boy, because he would be just as happy with another girl. And how after I was born Nana said he beamed from ear to ear, pride washing over his face, and he went around telling everyone that he was blessed with another girl and how beautiful I was. I carry those words still with me today, and I want to give you some reassuring words of your own.

Immediately after Jones was born, and I heard the doctor say, "It's a boy!", I turned to your father to see his reaction, wondering if there would be a look of pride and excitement the likes of which I had never seen before. I half expected the thought of having a son to make him glow, or to make him smile brighter, or to do something to his face that would acknowledge that this birth was different. But to my genuine surprise and delight, there was nothing of the sort. Nothing. He looked exactly the same as he did after every single one of you were born. The exact same smile, the very same look of pride, the identical sense of relief that the birth was over and everyone was healthy and safe. And throughout the day I kept waiting for it to hit him, I kept waiting for him to say something about finally having a boy, I kept waiting for him to show in any way that he was more proud, more excited, more whatever. But I waited in vain. It never happened. Not even for a moment. And later, after everyone had been called and everyone had expressed their joy over us having a son, he turned to me and said, "Having a boy is nice, but there still is something so special about having a little girl, too". And through my medicinal haze those words stuck with me, and I made a point to not forget them because I wanted to make sure you all knew that boy or girl, you are all special to us because you are ours, because God chose you to become part of our family, and that is where it ends.

And Dana, that other day at Walgreens after the lady had continued on her way and I saw that look in your eye? It ripped my heart wide open thinking that someone had caused you, even for one moment, to think you were anything less than the gift to this family that you are. And Eliza and Cora? That goes the same for you. Which is why I immediately turned to all of you, looked you in the eyes, and said that yes, we have a boy, but oh how I loooooooove my girls. Your father and I? We have three beautiful, unique, wonderful daughters. And I thank God for that daily. Just as I thank him for your beautiful, unique, wonderful brother. All in the same breath, all one in the same, all equally important and equally loved.

And boy oh boy (oh girls), we will never let you forget it.

Love,
Momma

Q. and A. with Dana Jae

Dear Dana-Lana,

I thought I'd start an informal interview process with all you crazy kids to give you an idea what you were like as youngsters. And also to remind me in your teenage years that once upon a time you would sit still and talk to me for more than ten minutes without eye rolls, exasperated sighs, and checking your phone (or however you keep in touch with your friends these days) every 30 seconds.

This is what you had to say.

FAVORITES:

Q. What is your favorite food?
A. Hungry Howie's pizza

Q. Favorite TV show?
A. America's Funniest Videos, because it's so funny.

Q. Favorite book?
A. My Father's Dragon

Q. Favorite subject?
A. Greek Myths

Q. Least favorite subject?
A. Handwriting. Blech. (Did you know I was going to say that, Mom?)

Q. Favorite song?
A. "Go Bananas" by the Fresh Beat Band

Q. Favorite Bible Verse?
A. The one that says "Prince of Peace".

Q. Favorite Memory?
A. My 5th birthday, because when I woke up there was streamers all over.

Q. Favorite Place?
A. Crazy Bounce

Q. Favorite thing to do as a family?
A. Play the game "Sorry".

Q. Favorite Toy?
A. The ponies Mommy had when she was little.

DAY TO DAY LIFE:

Q. What was something fun you did this week?
A. Go to G.E.M.S.

Q. What is something you did that you didn't want to do?
A. Stop coloring when it was time to eat.

Q. How much time does it take to make dinner?
A. One hour, unless it's macaroni and cheese.

Q. How much does a new house cost?
A. $101 dollars

Q. A new car?
A. $50. Unless it's a brand new van, then it's $1000.

Q. A new pair of pants?
A. $10. Unless it has flowers and jewels on it, then $100.

Q. A loaf of bread?
A. $5.00

ABOUT YOU:

Q. What is something you like about being a big sister?
A. Being able to baby-sit.

Q. What do you want to be when you grow-up?
A. A veterinarian. Because I like pets. That might even be my gift! For animals!

Q. What is something silly that you do?
A. Stand on my head.

Q. What do you like to spend your money on?
A. Rainbow Magic chapter books

Q. What do you like to do for fun?
A. Play with my brother, Jones, who is a baby.

Q. What do you wish you could do that you can't do?
A. Flips on the trampoline.

Q. What is one word that describes you?
A. Kind. No, funny. Because I'm funny, right Mom?

Q. How many kids do you want to have?
A. Four, because if I have three no one will play with the youngest.

Q. What makes you happy?
A. When you make me mashed potatoes.

Q. What makes you sad?
A. When Papa died.

Q. What are you afraid of?
A. A shark biting my head off.

Q. What's the hardest thing about being a kid?
A. I can't have food whenever I want.

Q. If you could change one of our rules, what would it be?
A. That I have to listen the first time.

Q. If you could give one gift to every child in the world, what would it be?
A. An invention that's a cooking machine where if you push a button it makes whatever food you want in one second.

Q. What's one thing you would like as a gift?
A. A Dream Lite unicorn Pillow Pet.

Q. What are girls like?
A. They wear fancy dresses and go to Daddy/Daughter dances and cook with Mom and play.

Q. What are boys like?
A. I don't know. I'm not a boy, so I don't know.

MOM AND DAD:

Q. What does Dad do for a job?
A. He teaches senior high schoolers in school. He teaches them about car engines.

Q. What does Mom do for a job?
A. Works at a veterinarian. She takes care of pets.

Q. What's Dad's favorite thing to do?
A. Spend time with us.

Q. Mom's favorite thing to do?
A. Take care of animals.

Q. What's the best thing about Dad?
A. He loves me.

Q. Best thing about Mom?
A. She loves me, too.

Q. How much does Dad weigh?
A. 55 pounds

Q. How much does Mom weigh?
A. 50 pounds

Q. What makes Dad happy?
A. When I snuggle with him.

Q. Mom happy?
A. When I don't fight.

Q. What does Dad do that makes you laugh?
A. He flies me like an airplane.

Q. What does Mom do to make you laugh?
A. She tickles me.

Q. What is something that Dad's not good at?
A. He's good at everything!

Q. What is something that Mom's not good at?
A. Spanish.

Q. How are you and Mom the same?
A. We have long hair, our brains are the same size.

Q. How are you and Dad the same?
A. We're people.

Q. How are you and Mom different?
A. She's 35, I'm seven. She has brown hair, I have blonde.

Q. How are you and Dad different?
A. He's a boy, with black hair and a beard.

Q. How do you know Mom loves you?
A. She gives me hugs and kisses, she gives me food and clothes to wear.

Q. How do you know Dad loves you?
A. He gives me hugs and kisses, he lets me stay up late to watch the hunting show and makes me popcorn.

Q. What's Mom's favorite place to go?
A. The grocery store.

Q. Dad's favorite place to go?
A. To the farm with us.

Q. What does Dad like most about Mom?
A. She helps him cook.

Q. What does Mom like most about Dad?
A. He takes care of us while she goes shopping.

Q. What does Mom and Dad make for dinner that you can't stand?
A. Mushrooms

Q. What advice do you have for Mom and Dad?
A. Don't yell at people anymore.

GOD:

Q. How do you picture God?
A. A great, big, GLORIOUS person.

Q. Why do Mom and Dad take you to church?
A. To learn about Jesus.

Q. What does God do all day?
A. He watches us. He's everywhere! He's over here, he's over there, he's even over there!

Q. What's your favorite thing about God?
A. That he made me.

Q.Why did Jesus die for us?
A. Because he wanted to be our savior and he didn't want us to sin.

Q. What are you most thankful to God for?
A. My family. They're my most favorite thing.

Q. What types of things do you pray for?
A. Everyone to feel well, for food, for Haiti people and for Amazon people that only eat birds and snakes.

Well Deej, there you have it. That's you in a blonde-haired, pizza-loving, shark-fearing nutshell. I look so forward to seeing how these answers change over time, and just hope the innocence and sweetness behind them never does.

Thank you for the joy and gentleness you bring to our family. Your kind heart is a heart to be nurtured, treasured, admired, and beheld. I'll love you always, my sweet little silly big girl.

Love,
Momma

Schooled

Well children, this is another one of those posts that could probably go on and on for ever and ever and pretty soon you'll be leaving the computer, going to get a snack, leaving again, taking a nap, leaving again, going to college, and before you know it my grandchildren are wondering how in the world Grandma (Nana? Grams? Mumsy?) can prattle on so. Well, by nature I'm a prattler, but I'll try to be concise.

As I am writing this we are in our second year of homeschooling. This way of life usually either very much appeals to people, or people think I am totally off my rocker and should be examined by a professional. (Which probably isn't entirely untrue. But I'm sure you are well aware this has nothing to do with homeschooling.) You notice that we do things a little bit differently around here than some of the other kids your age, and in an effort to reveal more of myself to you I thought I would take some time to write down the top five reasons why I do what I do. Homeschool that is, not putz around the house sipping on Diet Coke. Because it can be argued that I do that a lot, too.

 

 

So, without further adieu... (drumroll, please.... C'mon! indulge your weird ol' mom!...)

Reason #5:
I get to be by you and touch you all the time. As you know (oh, how you know), your momma is a hugger. A squeezer. A "gimme a kiss"-er. I've been like this for as long as I can remember, and now that I have my own soft, squishy little ones running around, you kids get the brunt of it. If I am teaching you, I am touching you. Snuggling, playing with your hair, stealing kisses, pinching your buns (yes, yes, so embarrassing. Deal with it.), holding your hand, noogies, zerberts, the occasional session of throwing you on the bed if the situation calls for it... I love to show you how much you mean to me through the sense of touch. All day long. (And speaking as your teacher, when you are done reading this your next assignment is to find me wherever I am and hug the living daylights out of me. Don't make me take away your free time, because I will.)

Reason #4:
We get to cultivate a familial relationship that I believe would be harder to do if you were schooled traditionally. Obviously, we spend a lot of time together. Like, a lot. I'm sure you are so sick of seeing my sorry ol' mug day in and day out every day of the week. And (don't be offended) there are times, once in a great, great, great while, where I need some time away from you as well. But for the most part we are genuinely happy to be in each other's company. Yes, there are fights, between Dana and Eliza, and Eliza and Cora, and Jones and the dog (Maude, remember her? Such a stinker), and me and the computer/washing machine/oven, but nothing that isn't snuffed out rather quickly, because we get lots of practice doing it. We are really pretty good at conflict resolution over here. All of you learn so much from each other in every way, and you are more well-rounded for it. One of my great hopes is that when geography eventually separates you the closeness that you have shared over all these years will have formed an unbreakable bond, and you will continue to seek out proximity with each other of your own accord, because you simply do not know any other way to go through life.

Reason #3:
To socialize you. I'm sure if we continue with this whole homeschooling gig it's just a matter of time before you will hear people voice concern about your socialization. Namely, the uncertainty that you are going to be able to fit in with your peers. Which, as probably most homeschooling parents can tell you, is actually not very high on the list of things we worry about for your future. With all the extracurricular activities you are involved in there is rarely a day that goes by where you are not with children your own age in some capacity. To me, socialization is making sure that not only you can fit in with your peers, but that you can fit in with (and someday better) society. And what better way to do this than to have you function in society along with me; a wise, seasoned, experienced, wise, really wise adult. For example, at the tender ages of seven, five and three you have a decent outline of what goes into paying bills, keeping house, serving those in need, and working hard at jobs outside the home. (Except for you, Jones. At six months old you are incredibly lazy. But you've got big chubby cheeks, so we'll give you a free pass. For now.) You also have a really good idea how post offices and libraries and grocery stores (and Target and TipToes) and so many other everyday places are run, and I feel that these things would be difficult to find the time to teach you if you were not right there next to me. It is one of my goals that by the time you are all old enough to live on your own you will have the maturity and the know-how to do so without succumbing to any traps this world may offer, and you will also have the determination and the drive to become a contributing, valued member of society. (And I'm planning on you bringing me coffee and donuts on a regular basis. But that's neither here nor there.)

Reason #2:
Oooh, this one is a doozy. I really like this one. I homeschool you so that I get to know you. Granted, at the time I am writing this you are still all relatively quite young, but I can say with confidence that I know pretty much everything there is to know about every one of you. I know your likes and dislikes, I can predict how you will react to things before they even occur. I know what every face, every gesture, every inflection of every word means. I know you the way a person can only know somebody when their lives are irrevocably intertwined. Dana, I know that you struggle with 8's, and that you like to say your spelling words upside down on the blue chair. You are always the first one to raise your hand, and your eyes light right up when I call on you and you will (almost invariably) answer correctly. Eliza, you can only pay attention during devotions if you are nestled on my lap, while for the rest of our day together you are content sitting by my side. When you count to one hundred you will leave out the number 17 every time. You are heavily motivated by smiley-face stickers, and even though you know you're not supposed to ask for one, you will give me a sly smile after you've done some really good work and ask for one anyway. And I give it to you, because you're super cute. Dana, in Psalm 23 you recite "for His name is sake", instead of "for His name's sake", and Eliza, in John 3:16 you talk about God's only "forgotten" Son, instead of His only "begotten" Son. (We'll correct it someday. For now, it brings me joy so we'll let it slide.) Cora, you're not officially in school yet, but already I know that if there's any mention of fighting and/or wars in our textbooks you will want to see pictures, you like circles probably more than the average human being, you are obsessed with ocean creatures, and you have to wear a dress and dance around when we listen to our Bible memory verse songs. And my sweet Jones, you enjoy hourly getting passed along from one sister to another, with every smile you give wrapping them tighter and tighter around your little finger. You love it, they love it, I love it, it's just one big love affair with you. May it never end. My prayer is that as the years go by I will be able to draw upon what I am learning about all of you now, and what I will learn from you as this process continues, to help you navigate through this life. I pray that I can use what I know to be fundamental to your character to help you make choices which will be beneficial to you, and also to give me comfort and peace when someday you make decisions that may not be the best for you because I know, deep down, who you truly are.

 

And also, right along with the benefit of getting to know you, is the added bonus that I get to help lay the foundation for who you will become. I get to help mold the platform from which you will evaluate every circumstance and situation that comes your way. Already you are full of tough questions about death, and the human body, and why bad things happen to good people, and God, and the list goes on and on. And the thing is, I want to be the one to answer and discuss these questions with you. I want to instill in you our family values, I want to build strong character in you, and I want to explain to you why we believe what we believe and how we can apply this to every area of our life. There is not a doubt in my mind that you will ask these questions of somebody, and if it's not me that satisfies your curiosity there is a long line of people who gladly will, and the answers they give you may not be the ones I want you to hear, or more importantly, regard as truth. When you go out into this world I want you to enter into it secure in what you believe, able to defend those beliefs, have courage of conviction, rock solid self-esteem, and the ability to decipher truth from lies in every area of your life. (As you girls would say, "easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy", right?)

Reason #1:
And finally, the number one reason why I do what I do. It is really very simple. I do this because this is what God has called me to do both in your lives and mine, and my most heartfelt desire is to obey Him and bring Him glory. If you would have told me back in college that someday I would be a country dwelling, homeschooling, farmer-loving mother of four I would have called you crazy and then gone back to laying out in the sun with my People magazine, planning out my next exotic vacation, and wondering when my roommate was getting out of class so we could go get a Big Gulp. But God had a different plan for my life. And though the homeschooling life is not for everyone, it is the perfect life for me. It may not be the most easy calling, and there is not a day that goes by where I do not question my ability to be your primary educator, but there is also not a day that goes by where God is not faithful in reminding me that He's got this. You belong to Him first. I am only one small part of the story He has written out for your life, and I just have to trust Him that you will get the knowledge and the instruction you need from me to carry out your story to completion. I often ask Him to teach you what He wants you to learn in spite of me, and I believe that even in those days where I feel I have not taught you a single thing, He has spoken to you through me in ways I may never know. I have heard it said many times that, "He doesn't call those who are equipped, He equips those He calls". And while your momma is definitely not the best teacher in the world, He has equipped me to be the best teacher for you. And that is a privilege and a blessing that I do not take lightly, and will never take for granted. I pray that as you grow older, it is your one desire to obey Him and seek to bring Him glory in whatever area He calls you to do as well. I can promise you that it will most likely not be the simplest path, and you may think He's got the wrong person for the job, but if you choose to trust and obey Him the rewards will far outweigh any hardships you experience along the way. (He's just totally awesome like that. See below. It doesn't get any better than that for this here momma, and you're all taking a copy of this picture to college with you as a gentle reminder of how much you love to be with me.)

OK, I think that about covers what I wanted to say. Hopefully this answers some of your questions, and gives you a little insight into your history as well as encourages you when you think about your future. Never forget that you are going through life smack dab in the middle of a whole bunch of people who love you and care about you and only want the best for you. And, (this is the really cool part) you are also being watched over and guided by the King, and He can not and will never fail you. (But if you don't do your homework I might. I kid, I kid!)

Now, if you'd be so kind as to go give those grandbabies of mine a kiss from their crazy Mee-Maw, I'd be much obliged.

Love you lots,
Mrs. Alberda (a.k.a. Momma)

A Place For Grace

Dear kiddo's,

This post has been rattling and bouncing around in my head for a while now, just waiting for an opportunity to get down on paper. And by paper, I mean a computer screen. (And that is why I am so adamant you do your handwriting, Dana, because I refuse to let letter-writing become a lost art. Now, go write a list of all the things you love about me. Because I said so.)

I'm not quite sure how to begin, I feel as if I could write a novel on this particular subject. (Just keep reading children, I sort of promise I won't.)

I guess, well, let's begin with a story. Let's begin with the story of how your Daddy and I met and fell madly in love. Or, as I like to remember it, the night I thought I went temporarily insane. So romantic, I know.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (really it was just down the road in Hamilton, but we'll keep with the romantic theme), your Mommy was at a Superbowl party at a friend's house. A group of us were sitting around the dining room table playing cards, and I heard the door open and close and a few people come inside. I looked up, saw your father standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, and promptly lost all sense of reason. The very first thing I remember thinking upon seeing him was, "I am going to marry that man". It wasn't even up for debate, it was just the way it was. The fact that I had never uttered a word to him in my life and was actually there on a date with another boy was beside the point. That tall, handsome drink of water in that brown corduroy jacket was going to be mine for the rest of all time, whether he liked it or not. Luckily for me he didn't put up too much of a fuss, and just over two years later we made it official.

Why am I telling you this story? Because that, my little ones, is the moment I look back and see grace walk into the door, into my life, and became part of my everyday reality. I did not, and still do not, deserve your father or the life that we have together. Without going into too many details (at least until you're older. Like, way older. Like *gasp* maybe even married yourselves), I had made a few choices in my life that were not the best ones. I did not at that point in time take anything too seriously, and was just starting to realize, and have to live out, the consequences of some less-than-stellar decisions I had made prior to meeting your father. Let's just say these choices had to do with money, and school, and boys, and family, and God. You know, nothing major.

But kids, when I started dating your Daddy, and when I eventually married him and settled into a life with him, I realized just how much grace had followed him inside the door that day. God had offered me a whole new life. A beautiful, rich, full life that I never could have dreamed up for myself. I still had to deal with the consequences of some of the decisions I had made, because although our God is merciful, He is also a just God. But I was blessed beyond my wildest imagination right in the middle of those consequences, and I was given the ability to see what an awesome, loving, wise, and compassionate God we serve. I still get the chills when I think about where I should and could be in this life, and then look around and see where I am instead. Jesus loves me, this I know. And He rains His grace down upon me still every single day.

And I guess the reason I am writing this all down for you is just to introduce you to the way I want to raise you, and the way I want to see you treat others. But also, as an apology to you. Dear ones, there is nothing here on earth I value more than our family. You and your father make up my whole world. (Along with a smattering of other wonderful people. And Diet Coke.) But for some reason, it is all of you that I seem to have the hardest time offering my own grace to. I find that I can be so hard on you, and the reality of that makes me ache inside. I yell at you, I nag you, I talk down to you, I am impatient with you, I ignore you, the list goes on and on, and the tears fall even as I type these words and think of all the ways I have daily been less than you deserve. You deserve so much more and so much better than I often give you. You deserve grace... grace being rained down upon you. Every moment of every single day, regardless of any choices you have made. And I am so sorry that I am incapable of pouring it down on you myself, and that many times I even intentionally withhold it. I consider it one of my greatest flaws, and it is far and away the one thing that plagues me most and causes me such great remorse when I gaze upon your sleeping, angelic faces at the close of each day and think back on all the ways I could have handled things better.

But it is my heartfelt prayer that you can see through my failures, and my inadequacies, and my broken and lacking words, to the One who longs to continually shower His grace upon you. I pray that you can look past where I fall short and see the One who cannot fail, who cannot not desire only the best for you, who cannot help but love you so much that He took one look at your precious face and gave His own life so He can look at it for eternity. Little ones, you are loved. And out of that love flows grace in spades. Grace upon grace upon grace upon grace. Out of that loves comes an undeserved life, an unending supply of second chances, an offer of a better way to live out your days in this world. And it is in that grace that I find a promise for new mercies every day with you. I get to have another chance tomorrow to be a better mother to you. Grace upon grace upon grace...

Along with this prayer for you to look past me to see Jesus, it is one of my deepest desires that you are wise in your choices, that you learn to think things through, and that you have a greater understanding of cause and effect than your mother ever did. But I hope that when you do make a regrettable decision, as we all do, you will accept and face the consequences head-on knowing that perfect grace is riding in on it's coattails, just waiting and wanting to bless you in the middle of all the mess.

And as for me, it is my promise to try to be so much better at extending to you my own grace. It is unfair and ungrateful of me to withhold this from you when my own life has been marked and changed by it over and over again. I promise you that I will try to be more patient. I will try to accept you for the wonderful, unique individuals God created to be. I will try to be kind to you always, regardless if I am tired, or distracted, or you drank my last Diet Coke. (Don't ever drink my last Diet Coke. Just a heads-up. I am only human.) I will try not to yell at you. I will try to be gentle, and understanding, and exude self-control. I will try to do all these things and much more, all because of the one thing I can promise you. And that is no matter the choices you make or the paths you take, your father and I will always, always love you. No matter what. Always. Love you. Always always. Love you to itty-bitty pieces. Get it? Got it? Good. (By the way, Dana, how's that list coming of all the ways you love me? Not a good time? Oh, okay. Maybe later.)

Kiddo's, it took me a long time, a lot of right steps and a bunch of missteps to get to where I am today, but I wouldn't change any one of them because in the center of it all I was brought face to face with God and his life-changing grace, and I was given you. And between you and Him and that tall, handsome drink of water father of yours, you all make up the very best parts of me.

Thanks for listening. Reading. Whatever. Just... thank you for letting me learn how to love you better every day.
Love,
Momma