Back on bedrest…

… but this time it’s self-imposed.

I woke up for our early morning feeding yesterday with pain and hardness in my right breast. Not particularly surprising considering I’d been sleeping on my right side and we’d gone longer than normal between feedings.

I put Tirzah Mae to the breast and we breastfed for two hours. But instead of feeling better by the time we were done, I was feeling worse. Not only was I exhausted, I’d started shaking uncontrollably and the pain was bad enough that I couldn’t change positions.

By then, there wasn’t a question in my mind. I was sure I had mastitis. But on a Sunday morning, what is one to do?

I hung out on the couch, breastfeeding on the affected side first every two hours and sleeping while Daniel took Tirzah Mae in between.

When I was sure my sister would be home from church, I texted her seeking sympathy. She concurred with my self- diagnosis, offered sympathy, and ordered me to the doctor for antibiotics.

I’d been planning to call first thing Monday morning – the last time we went to urgent care on a Sunday, we waited 4 hours. Neither Tirzah Mae nor I could go that long without breastfeeding – and I didn’t relish exposing Tirzah Mae to a waiting room full of sick people for four hours. I texted and then called my sister to explain my predicament. She agreed that it was a tough one but couldn’t in good conscience recommend anything but that I start antibiotics immediately.

We went to urgent care.

The receptionist asked what I was there for – I confidently told her that I had mastitis. She asked if I’d been diagnosed, and Daniel’s voice beside me answered “self”. He’d come in unbeknownst to me from parking the car. I tried to defend myself – “and by my PA sister”. In my head, I was pleading, “I’m not one of those I-Googled-it self-diagnosers. I know what I’m talking about.” But really, it wasn’t important.

We waited maybe 15 minutes before I was called back for vitals. My temperature was just 99.4 “Great,” I thought, “now they’ll just think it’s a clogged duct. My sister sent me here for antibiotics and they won’t give them to me.” But then I was back in the waiting room.

Daniel read. I held Tirzah Mae. I nursed Tirzah Mae. I tried to relax the legs that were starting to tremble. Tirzah Mae started to fuss. I stood up and she calmed, but then the room started to sway. I asked Daniel to take Tirzah Mae. He did and tried to strike up a conversation – but my energy was completely focused on enduring. Nothing was left for conversation.

After an interminable wait, they called my name. They took me back to the exam room where I waited again. This time, it was only for a short while before the doctor walked in. I gave a brief history, explained apologetically that my temperature had been higher when I’d taken it at home. She brushed aside my explanation – “That temperature was just a point in time – and the hot and cold and shakiness and achiness you’ve described is consistent with fever.” She did a quick exam. “I think you do have mastitis,” she confirmed.

She instructed me to not quit breastfeeding (yay for doctors who follow best practices – there was a time not too long ago where physicians encouraged quitting – or at least pumping and dumping – for mastitis.) She encouraged me to try to empty that breast at each feeding. She gave me the okay to use Tylenol to manage the pain and fever. And she prescribed me an antibiotic.

I put myself on bedrest.

The only time I’ve felt worse is the day before we delivered Tirzah Mae – the day I felt so weak and awful that I gave up on the vaginal delivery I’d dreamed of practically my whole life. Thankfully, the Tylenol has worked wonders (as long as I take it consistently every four hours.)

I’m not going to try to be heroic with this one. I’m going to focus my efforts on getting better. Which means Tirzah Mae and I are staying in bed and breastfeeding frequently. I’m getting out to go to the bathroom, change her diaper, and get food. That’s it.

‘Cause I’m gonna get better, darn it, and I’m going to get better QUICKLY!


In which I am no longer employed

Today marks a last for me – and tomorrow a first.

Today is my last day of employment. Today, I remain a WIC dietitian.

Tomorrow is my first day of…

Well, what exactly is tomorrow my first day of? What exactly am I as of tomorrow?

Calling today my last day of employment might lead one to think that tomorrow is my first day of unemployment. But that wouldn’t be true. You see, the technical definition of unemployment is that one is not working for pay but IS actively seeking work for pay. That’s not me.

Maybe I’m joining the ranks of the underemployed-as one who is highly skilled but working a low wage job that does not use her skills. I doubt that. For one, unless you count my monthly “allowance” (Daniel and I both have one), I will have no wage whatsoever. Secondly, I disagree with the idea that what I’ll be doing is low-skill or won’t make use of my education or expertise.

Maybe if I told you what I’d be doing, we’d be able to come up with a better label for my employment status.

But what exactly will I be doing as of tomorrow?

I’ll be at home, taking care of my daughter. I’ll be feeding her, changing her, bathing her, rocking her to sleep, and making sure she gets that all-important tummy time. But I don’t intend to be a stay-at-home mommy.

I’ll be doing laundry, doing dishes, making dinner, and scrubbing the toilet. But I don’t intend to be a housewife.

Let’s call it being a stay-at-home wife. My goal is to care for our daughter and care for our home in such a way that Daniel is able to be happier, more productive, and better loved.

Yes, I’m leaving paid employment to be at home with our daughter – but ultimately, I’m leaving paid employment so I can be a better helper to my husband.

I’ll be taking a pay cut, sure – but I have a feeling this job will require every bit of skill and education I possess.

I’m not going to be unemployed or underemployed – I’m going to be a happily unpaid full-time helpmate.

Employment statisticians can make if that what they will.


Thankful Thursday: Hacked

Thankful Thursday banner

Some of you may have noticed something wonky going on with bekahcubed over the past several days. That’s because bekahcubed was hacked – and I’ve been in the process of fixing it.

This week I’m thankful…

…for a fortuitous discovery
I was trying to figure out how to adjust blog posts to turn off search engine indexing (so I could make photo albums of Tirzah Mae unsearchable) – and one of the suggestions I found involved adjusting something in the blog header. I went off to my custom php header and found…code that I didn’t recognize. And since I coded my blog templates by hand, that’s a very bad thing. Finding it, though, is a very good thing. Because every day a hack goes unrecognized is another day a hacker can be wreaking havoc on your website.

…for tutorials for fixes
Fixing a hacked website can be an arduous process. Fixing a hacked website if it isn’t what you do for a living can be exhausting and confusing. Thankfully, some of the people who fix hacked websites for a living also write about how to do it – and make it plain so hobbyists like myself can fix their sites with relative ease. This post from Smackdown came in handy as I worked on closing any backdoors the hacker might have installed.

…for my dad taking time on his birthday to help me
It took me a while to realize that one massive portion of the fix would have to be done on the web hosting control panel. Which would mean my dad would have to finish the fix since he owns and manages menterz.com. Unfortunately, by the time I realized he would need to help, it was late at night the night before his birthday. So my birthday text included a request – could I call him about fixing my site? He obliged and spent part of the afternoon of his birthday adjusting passwords and making sure the database was clean.

…for a husband who reads my blog
I thought I had bekahcubed completely working again, having checked out the main page and seeing that everything was present. But my husband was reading and tried to look at the comments on my latest post – and discovered that all the pages other than the main page were giving 404 errors. He kindly let me know, I googled the problem and got it fixed. Yay!

It’s always eye-opening when my blog goes down. I find myself getting surprisingly anxious, feeling like I need to drop everything until it’s fixed. I come to realize just how bound up I am with these pages, how I feel like a part of my identity is missing if my blog isn’t intact.

A wise woman once said “My circumstances are not my life; Christ Jesus is my life.” And having my blog go down provides me with another reminder that “My blog is not my life; Christ Jesus is my life.”

Thank You, Lord, for the reminder – and for the reality.

“[Insert quote or Scripture]”
~[Insert source or Scripture reference]


Tirzah Mae’s Birth Day

I’d already told Daniel I wanted a c-section, but he paid me no mind. I told him that as I cried angry tears, frustrated that I couldn’t stop shaking.

Maybe it was the IV magnesium – they’d said it could give one the shakes – but I hadn’t had a problem with my first dose a week earlier. Maybe it was the cervidil that was attempting to ripen my cervix. Or maybe it was that my condition was rapidly deteriorating – the reason we were inducing at 32 weeks.

Whatever it was, I was weak and out-of-control and I knew that I would need a c-section.

Daniel, knowing how set on a vaginal delivery I’d been, ignored my emotional outbursts.

Then, around midnight, in a rare break from the shaking, I explained myself more rationally.

I was shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t move my limbs because they were so full of fluid and because I was hooked up to so many monitors and IVs and catheters. I was weak from 8 days of hospitalized bed rest and a week and a half of modified bed rest before that. Between the preeclamptic visual disturbances (poor color vision and dancing lights) and the fluid filling my face, I could barely see. If I was this much of a mess before we’d even gotten my cervix ripened, there was no way I’d make it through Pitocin-induced contractions to deliver vaginally.

Prepping for the c-section

Hearing my calm explanation, Daniel agreed – we would ask for a c-section.

Dr. Tackett came in to check on me – and I told him our decision. He agreed that my request was reasonable. They’d prepare for a c-section.

I had no idea what to expect with a c-section. Until that day, I’d planned for a vaginal delivery. So everything was unfamiliar as they wheeled me into the operating room, made me drink a foul-tasting beverage to neutralize my stomach acid, and had me lie very still on my side while they administered the spinal block.

Ready to vomit

Daniel was there at my head, holding my hand and looking over the curtain along my chest to see the operation.

I felt tugging, I heard a gasp and Daniel asking “Is that the water breaking?”

No, Dr. Jensen replied, he hadn’t even cut into my uterus yet. The water was ascites – excess fluid in the abdominal cavity, indicating that my liver had shut down.

There was more tugging, and the announcement that it was a girl – followed by “And her umbilical cord is wrapped tightly around her neck twice.”

I was overwhelmed with thankfulness – thankful that our baby was born, thankful that we’d chosen a c-section instead of having an emergency one once she’d shown distress.

I don’t remember hearing her cry, but she had to have – I read it in her Apgar scoring when I was reading through her chart later on. I do remember Daniel announcing her name in response to one of the medical staff’s questions – she was Tirzah Mae Eloise.

Pink and crying

Then Dr. Jensen was telling me he was sewing me double tight so I can have that VBAC – and I was again overwhelmed with thankfulness . Thankful that we had a relationship with the doctor who did our c-section. Thankful that he knew our desire to deliver vaginally. Thankful that he believes in VBAC and has helped many women successfully have them.

They brought my daughter close so I could see her and touch her. Still weak and uncoordinated, I flailed my arms in her direction – and stuck my finger in her eye.

Mama's first look

She was so tiny, so red, so clearly not supposed to be out of the womb. But she was alive – my daughter had been born.

“Daughter,” I told her. “I love you, my Tirzah Mae Eloise Garcia.”

They took her off to the NICU and wheeled my bed into the recovery room.

To be continued at a later date…


The Incarnation: God become infant

** This post was copied from our Christmas letter this year – so don’t feel bad about skipping it if you’ve already read it. Otherwise, you are definitely obligated to read it in its entirety :-) **

It’s cliché to talk about how having children changes your view of God – but having a newborn this Advent season has definitely given me a whole new perspective on the Incarnation.

God became man. It’s a weighty thought any time – but this Advent, I’m struck with the reality that God became infant.

Part of being a human is having physical and psychological needs – a need for food and clothing and shelter, for comfort and companionship. And part of being a human newborn is having no way of fulfilling those needs by oneself – and only one way of expressing those needs to others. An infant cries.

As Tirzah Mae squalls in her bed or on a blanket or in my arms, I contemplate that Jesus – God Himself – cried. And as I run through the list of possible causes of Tirzah Mae’s distress, I contemplate that Jesus had an earthly mother who was just as clueless as I, who struggled to meet the needs of her newborn. I contemplate how the Creator of the Universe became dependent on His creation. What humiliation! And for what cause?

Philippians 2:6-8 tells us why Jesus came: “…though he was in the form of God, [He] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Jesus had all the needs humans have save one. Everything my Tirzah Mae needs, He needed – except one thing. Tirzah Mae, perfect though she may seem, was born sinful, under the wrath of God. Jesus was not. He had no need to be saved from the wrath of God because He didn’t deserve the wrath of God. Yet Jesus Christ came, bore the humiliation of being a human infant so that He could go to the cross – so that He could bear the wrath Tirzah Mae and I deserve. I can feed and clothe and comfort my Tirzah Mae, but I can never save her. Yet Jesus – Jesus came as a little infant like her so that He could save her.

Cliché though it may be, as I reflect on and care for my wonderful early Christmas gift, I am reminded of the greatest Christmas gift of all – and I am thankful that God became infant in Jesus Christ, that God became sin in Jesus Christ, that God bore the penalty of my sin in Jesus Christ, and that in Jesus Christ my greatest need is met.

I pray this Christmas that we all may come to know the great salvation for which Jesus humiliated Himself.


2015 Reading Challenges

While I’m not setting grandiose plans for 2015, I do hope to participate once again in some of the book-related challenges and book clubs available in this neck of the internet – and I hope to participate with my church’s in-real-life book club as well.

L. M. Montgomery Reading Challenge To kick the year off, I’ll be joining with Carrie’s L.M. Montgomery Reading challenge – rereading one of the Anne books (I’m not sure which) and possibly making another Anne outfit for “Black Anne”, my American girl doll (named thus because I happen to own Addy, the original black American girl doll). I also may or may not find and read a book about Lucy Maud from my local library. It’s certainly not too late to participate yourself – check out Carrie’s opening post at Reading to Know.

Reading to Know - Book Club Participation in the L.M. Montgomery challenge happily doubles as participation in the RTK Classics bookclub – a monthly classics book club that participants are welcome to jump into for as many or as few months as they choose. We’re going with relatively short books this year, since most of the participants are busy moms. I hope to participate as often as possible – and will be hosting the November reading of Grimm’s Fairy Tales (I’ve started reading already – but you’ll be welcome to read only a few tales if you want to, so consider joining in at least for my month :-P). To see the complete list of reading selections for 2015, check out this introductory post.

The other challenge I know I’ll be wanting to participate in this year is Barbara’s Laura Ingalls Wilder reading challenge in February. I plan to read Farmer Boy and to make as many Farmer Boy inspired recipes as possible! Learn more about Barbara’s challenge here.

Apart from those, I’m laying low – except, of course, that I continue my ongoing quest to read every book in my local library (except the ones I don’t read.) I haven’t tallied my numbers or blogged progress recently, but I’m definitely still going strong!

Are you participating in some reading challenges this year? I’d love to hear which ones. Are you not participating in any reading challenges this year? Consider joining one of the above.


This Year, I have a Baby

Come January first of every year, I have a list of a hundred dozen things I want to do that year. Some years I even blog about those things.

Last year, I had a goal game.
Two years before that, I was going to do 2012 Things in 2012.

This year, I have a baby.

My Early Christmas Gift

That doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty of things I want to get done this year, plenty of things I’m not itching to get started on (or finish up). But it does mean that I’m not making any beginning-of-the-year resolutions.

Every year past, I knew that my grand schemes would peter out somewhere between February and April – and I was okay with that. Grand schemes are fun while they last and I have no problem abandoning them once they’re dead. Generally, I still glean a few good things, establish a few good habits, and get a few things done to make them worth their while.

But this year, I know that any grand schemes would never even hit the ground.

Two unplanned months of being a stay-at-home wife and mother of a newborn has taught me that.

I used to talk about all the things I would do once I was a stay-at-home and didn’t have to devote 40 hours of every week to an outside job. Now I’ve learned that I replaced a 40 hour a week job (teaching mothers how to feed their children) with a job that’s at least as time consuming (feeding my own child). Between pumping and breastfeeding and cleaning pumping supplies and dealing with spit-up, I’ve spent at least 40 hours a week over the past 8 weeks just feeding Tirzah Mae.

So I’m adjusting my expectations down.

Maybe come February to April (when my usual grand schemes are sinking into oblivion), I’ll be ready to scheme grand schemes again – or maybe I’ll discover that life post-newborn is still too taxing for grand schemes.

That’s okay.

I’m a different woman today than I was last year and the year before and the year before.

This year, I have a baby.

Gazing into each others' eyes

She’s changed my life. And that’s okay.


Book Review: Parenting with Love and Logic by Foster Cline and Jim Fay

“How to manipulate your kids into doing what you want.”

I was trying to figure out how to explain to my husband what Debbie and I had been learning from Parenting with Love and Logic as we read – and that was the best I could do.

The “Love and Logic” parenting style is one in which parents are consultants, establishing options within limits. The practical outerworking of this is that parents set firm limits by giving two options, both of which are acceptable to the parents and which can be enforced if the child decides to do nothing in response. For example, if a child is dawdling over a meal at a restaurant, instead of trying to force the child to eat (or make an ineffective threat “Do you want me to leave you here?), a parent offers the option: “We are leaving in fifteen minutes. Would you like to leave hungry or full?” In this case, the decision is in the child’s hands and the parent is okay with either choice. Furthermore, unlike the threat of leaving the child in the restaurant, the parent can actually follow through with letting the child go to the car hungry. The second part of the parenting style is empathizing with a child when he encounters problems and then handing the problem and its consequences back to the child. For example, when the above child complains later that he’s hungry, mom and dad sympathize “I’m so sorry that you’re feeling hungry. I often feel hungry when I skip a meal. Our next meal is at five, but if you’d like to buy a snack, I suppose I could accomodate that.”

Reading my summary above, the approach seems logical and appropriate. And really, I think there are lots of valuable applications of Love and Logic principles. But I did feel like a lot of the examples given in the book involved manipulating situations to get what you want from your kids. For example, the authors describe a parent who, after months of threatening, actually left his child at a restaurant. He’d planned in advance for a friend to be in the corner of the restaurant descreetly watching the child. And then there’s the parent who dropped her squabbling children off at the corner on the way home from school, insisting that she couldn’t drive with such a racket going on – the kids could either sit quietly and receive a ride or they could walk home. Of course, yet again, the mother had arranged for a friend to travel behind the kids as they walked to make sure they were okay.

The other part that felt manipulative was the prescribed language. According to the authors, Love and Logic parents sound like a broken record, always saying the same things. When they offer choices, they use language like “Would you rather…eat at the table or play in your room? …wear your coat or carry it?”, “Feel free to…join us for dinner when your room is clean.”, or “You’re welcome to…settle this argument yourself or we could draw straws.” When children refuse to make a decision when offered an option, the parents start the “Uh oh” song – “Uh oh, looks like you just chose to to go home hungry” – followed up with “Would you like to go to the car under your power or mine?” and “Uh oh, looks like you just chose to go under my power.” and so on and so forth. When a child defies his parents and the options they’ve given, the parent says “No problem!” (Honestly, I didn’t pay any attention to what comes next because, while I agree that it’s better not to let a child get and be aware that he has the upper hand in a conflict with his parents, I don’t see myself answering defiance with “No problem!”) When a child ends up experiencing consequences from his actions, the parent gives a pat response (that the authors insist cannot be pat but must be truly empathetic) of sympathy, describes how they feel when something similar happens to them, and then asks the child how they’re going to deal with it (or asks the child if they think there’s anything they could have done to have avoided it.)

Of course, I have to admit that the authors put me off in the second chapter and that may have influenced how I read the rest. You see, in chapter 2, the authors describe what they see as two ineffective parenting styles, helicopter parents and drill sergeant parents, before describing their own consultant parenting.

As I read, I was immediately transported to a screened-in awning in a campsite outside of Rocky Mountain National Park. Having had a rather unworshipful experience visiting a church during our last vacation (to Branson, Missouri), my father chose to have our own worship service on Sunday during this vacation. He prepared a sermon on lessons he’s learned as a parent – and he shared how he’d discovered that his parenting approach had to change as his kids grew older (lest you get the wrong impression, this was NOT the primary point of the sermon.) He said you have to be a helicopter while your kids are infants, from the time they start rolling around to when they start talking – you spend your time hovering, moving them out of dangerous situations and removing dangerous items from their path. In the toddler years, you have to be a drill sergeant – issuing orders of “Yes”, “No”, “Do this”, “Don’t do that.” According to my dad, reasoning with a child and giving them choices in this stage is silly. But as the child develops reasoning skills, the parent can move towards a consultant role.

In other words, my dad described their ineffective parenting styles as stages of parenting. According to him, it would be inappropriate to continue being a helicopter or a drill sergeant once your child needed a consultant – but it would be equally inappropriate to try to be a drill sergeant with your six month old or a consultant with your toddler.

Now, my father has raised seven children to adulthood – and all of them have turned out rather well (if I do say so myself.) My siblings are smart, respectful, thoughtful, good citizens. They work hard and take responsibility for themselves. Any parent could be proud of them. So having the authors suggest that my dad did it wrong is not the best way to get on my good side.

That said, I feel like the general concepts – of setting firm limits by giving two options, both of which are acceptable to the parents and which can be enforced if the child decides to do nothing in response, and of providing logical real-world consequences when limits are breached – are good. Similarly, several of the “pearls” (short chapters describing how one might apply Love and Logic concepts and techniques to different scenarios) were useful.

Overall, while I have some quibbles with certain parts of the authors’ technique, I’m glad Debbie and I read this book – and I will likely plan on returning to it when our children reach the age to try some consultant-type parenting, probably around late preschool age?


Rating: 3 stars
Category: Parenting
Synopsis: How to manipulate your child into doing what you want or how to provide limits that help you maintain sanity as a parent – it’s all in how you frame it.
Recommendation: The bones are pretty good, if you can manage to get to them through the psychobabble in the first several chapters (let’s just say I had to re-read the book two or three times and write up some notes while reading in order to get to the concise summary of the technique you see above.) Read it looking for the bones and a few fun features and you’ll do well – don’t think you should implement it all as written.


Thankfullest Thursday: Ten Thousand Blessings

Thankful Thursday banner

It’s been an eventful year, a full past couple of months. I could write volumes on the adventure of pre-eclampsia, of bedrest, of a NICU stay. I could try to list the events for which I’m thankful, the people for whom I’m thankful, the ways God has been faithful throughout – and I will, but I’m aware that I could never come close to listing them all. I’ve been blessed beyond belief, such that I could never come close to giving thanks enough.

As my husband prayed at breakfast this morning, we have so much to be thankful for – for material blessings, for relationships, but most of all for Christ.

This week I’m thankful…

…for a last vacation
My blood pressure was high, I was swelling, pre-eclampsia was imminent – and Daniel’s family had already scheduled a vacation to Williamsburg, Virginia. My midwife gave the okay for us to go – after giving a list of warning signs to send me directly to the nearest emergency room and instructing me that this was to be a true take-it-easy-curl-up-and-read-a-book vacation.

Thank you, God, for a restful vacation before our long hospitalization. For how my in-laws adjusted their plans to my restrictions, dietary and otherwise. For my husband pushing me around the sights in a wheelchair. For a whirlpool tub in our room. For pool time with my nieces. For my sister-in-law taking pictures so I didn’t miss any shots (and so there are actually pictures of me on vacation, albeit in a wheelchair). For being able to visit with my bloggy friend and her family. For Davene and Jeff and Josiah and David and Tobin and Shav and Moriah. For Davene’s dad taking my blood pressure.

…for excellent care of the pre-eclampsia
The appointments were already set up before my vacation – one on Monday with my midwife, one on Wednesday with our OB. Things went quickly once they got going. The visit with the midwife confirmed what I’d suspected, protein in my urine. The visit with the OB sent me to the hospital. Once in the hospital, I received excellent care from a maternal-fetal specialist (who also gave me advice on raising bees), a collection of residents, and some very caring nurses.

Thank you, God, for Deidre’s care – and that she knew when to refer me up. For ending up at St. Joseph. For expectant management from Dr. Wolfe. For all the caring nurses. For the unexpected surprise of being cared for by an old friend, now a medical resident. For the switch to a postpartum room for the majority of our stay. For food that was okay, served by staff who were friendly. For good books to pass the time. For an uncomplicated c-section.

…for a healthy daughter
Tirzah Mae breathed room air from the day she was born. She needed a few days of bili lights, but had no serious complications of prematurity at all. She received excellent care as well, from the many wonderful neonatalogists, nurse practitioners, and nurses at the NICU.

Thank you, God, for a one-minute Apgar of 7. For nurses who cared for Tirzah Mae faithfully and involved us in her care. For those who helped us breastfeed, who trained us and updated us. For those who appreciated our daughter and let us know how special she is. For the neonatalogist who reminded me that God answers prayer. To the lactation nurses who encouraged and supported us.

…for family and friends
I can’t list how much we’ve been blessed by e-mails, texts, Facebook messages, cards, offers of assistance, gifts, prayers. We have been blessed to have a wonderful community who loves and cares for us.

I wish I had something deeply profound to close with – and I could surely list a dozen spiritual blessings that are far more profound than any of these earthly things. I am truly thankful for Christ, for the cross, for reconciliation with God, for adoption into the family of God… the list can go on and on. But today, just today, even though I can list a thousand blessings, one thing especially causes my heart to overflow with thankfulness.

Today I am thankful to God that

OUR TIRZAH MAE IS HOME!!!!!