The other day, we (the kids and I) were sitting around the dinner table attempting to eat a meal. The XO has a relatively new job, which he moved into in the middle of an intensive training cycle, so if he's home by 7, we're pretty happy!
Anyway, Baby Girl was chattering in my ear about her day at school, Sweetie was up and down from her chair, alternately shoveling food in and terrorizing the dog and/or cat while screaming for the sheer love of making noise. Pumpkin was in my lap, doing her very best to grab a bite of my taco. I recall taking a deep breath and saying, "WHAT am I going to do with all these little girls?" To which Sweetie promptly stopped screaming to answer, "Keep us ALL!" I smiled and asked, "Then what will I do with you?" To which Baby Girl glibly replied, "Let us grow until we're big enough to let go."
How right you are, Baby Girl, how right you are. Unfortunately, I have a feeling it's not going to be that easy.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Asocial Graces
I thought one of the pluses to having three girls was having an easier time teaching manners, etiquette, and polite conversation. Because playing tea party and having fancy dinners is fun for little girls, right? Well, it IS, but that hasn't really improved their social graces much.
Now, the ones that can talk do say please and thank you--sometimes without prompting!--and they are generally kind and polite. But their meeting-new-people manners are in need of some work.
For example, when the XO was promoted last month, I dressed our children in adorable matching dresses, ordered breakfast from Panera, and got everything delivered, set up, and coordinated by 9 am (the day after the Fourth of July fireworks.....). I felt quite proud of myself until the time came for the girls to meet the XO's commanding officer. At that point, Pumpkin drooled and blew spit bubbles (I guess this is acceptable when you are only 3 months old), Sweetie hid behind my skirt and refused to look at anyone, and Baby Girl simultaneously contorted her body into a shape that would have earned her a spot in the Cirque du Soleil, made a strange noise, and then pulled her skirt up to her neck..... Oh, my.
Now, meeting new people--especially adults who are IMPORTANT--can be nerve-wracking. I was a ridiculously shy child, too. I probably would have hidden behind my mother when I was 10! And I rarely was introduced to my parents' bosses. So, I can understand the anxiety. However......I decided we needed to address the proper and appropriate way to meet new people, greet others, and make polite conversation. And the coaching began.
We played games (tea parties! fancy balls!) and talked a lot about what to say to grown ups that Daddy works with. We discussed smiling nicely, standing still, and shaking hands. Baby Girl understood, of course, but I could tell she was still a little nervous. Sweetie looked at me like I'd lost my mind when I started asking her, "What's your name?" and "How old are you?" and "My, aren't you cute!" Because as Mommy, shouldn't I KNOW the answer!?
Now, fast forward to the Hail and Farewell last week. (For my non-military affiliated friends, a Hail and Farewell is a social gathering that sends off and welcomes officers as they change positions.) This one was a "hail" for the XO, who recently became a platoon leader, so I deemed it important to attend and made plans accordingly. Once again, I got four girls ready (I actually straightened my hair, found a dress, and put on make-up), packed everyone up (and extra clothes for Sweetie, who is in the middle of potty training) and fed the girls, as I knew that Mediterranean fare would not satisfy them as much as chicken nuggets. On our way there, I coached the two older girls on polite answers, quiet voices, pretty smiles, and appropriate behavior and demeanor. We role-played a conversation, even. Baby Girl did well, remembering to answer the standard, "What grade are you in?" and "Do you like school?" questions clearly and briefly. Even Sweetie seemed to be catching on.
We got to the restaurant and had to go directly to the restroom because Sweetie said she had to go when we were 5 minutes from our destination. We got that business taken care of and joined the party, only to trek back downstairs from the private party room and through the busy Friday-night restaurant 2 more times for potty breaks. The second time we returned, the XO was introducing Baby Girl to the Battalion Commander--nothing less than a Lt. Colonel. So, we headed over in time to hear Baby Girl politely, if somewhat sheepishly, answering questions while keeping the hem of her dress below her knees. I was so proud.
Speaking of pride, Sweetie had successfully used the restroom, and was delighted that she'd had dry undies since waking up that morning. So, when we arrived, the XO introduced us, and the LTC asked Sweetie, "How are you today, cutie?" To which my adorable two year old replied at the top of her voice, "I PEED!!"
I guess some of us still have some work to do in the etiquette department.
Now, the ones that can talk do say please and thank you--sometimes without prompting!--and they are generally kind and polite. But their meeting-new-people manners are in need of some work.
For example, when the XO was promoted last month, I dressed our children in adorable matching dresses, ordered breakfast from Panera, and got everything delivered, set up, and coordinated by 9 am (the day after the Fourth of July fireworks.....). I felt quite proud of myself until the time came for the girls to meet the XO's commanding officer. At that point, Pumpkin drooled and blew spit bubbles (I guess this is acceptable when you are only 3 months old), Sweetie hid behind my skirt and refused to look at anyone, and Baby Girl simultaneously contorted her body into a shape that would have earned her a spot in the Cirque du Soleil, made a strange noise, and then pulled her skirt up to her neck..... Oh, my.
Now, meeting new people--especially adults who are IMPORTANT--can be nerve-wracking. I was a ridiculously shy child, too. I probably would have hidden behind my mother when I was 10! And I rarely was introduced to my parents' bosses. So, I can understand the anxiety. However......I decided we needed to address the proper and appropriate way to meet new people, greet others, and make polite conversation. And the coaching began.
We played games (tea parties! fancy balls!) and talked a lot about what to say to grown ups that Daddy works with. We discussed smiling nicely, standing still, and shaking hands. Baby Girl understood, of course, but I could tell she was still a little nervous. Sweetie looked at me like I'd lost my mind when I started asking her, "What's your name?" and "How old are you?" and "My, aren't you cute!" Because as Mommy, shouldn't I KNOW the answer!?
Now, fast forward to the Hail and Farewell last week. (For my non-military affiliated friends, a Hail and Farewell is a social gathering that sends off and welcomes officers as they change positions.) This one was a "hail" for the XO, who recently became a platoon leader, so I deemed it important to attend and made plans accordingly. Once again, I got four girls ready (I actually straightened my hair, found a dress, and put on make-up), packed everyone up (and extra clothes for Sweetie, who is in the middle of potty training) and fed the girls, as I knew that Mediterranean fare would not satisfy them as much as chicken nuggets. On our way there, I coached the two older girls on polite answers, quiet voices, pretty smiles, and appropriate behavior and demeanor. We role-played a conversation, even. Baby Girl did well, remembering to answer the standard, "What grade are you in?" and "Do you like school?" questions clearly and briefly. Even Sweetie seemed to be catching on.
We got to the restaurant and had to go directly to the restroom because Sweetie said she had to go when we were 5 minutes from our destination. We got that business taken care of and joined the party, only to trek back downstairs from the private party room and through the busy Friday-night restaurant 2 more times for potty breaks. The second time we returned, the XO was introducing Baby Girl to the Battalion Commander--nothing less than a Lt. Colonel. So, we headed over in time to hear Baby Girl politely, if somewhat sheepishly, answering questions while keeping the hem of her dress below her knees. I was so proud.
Speaking of pride, Sweetie had successfully used the restroom, and was delighted that she'd had dry undies since waking up that morning. So, when we arrived, the XO introduced us, and the LTC asked Sweetie, "How are you today, cutie?" To which my adorable two year old replied at the top of her voice, "I PEED!!"
I guess some of us still have some work to do in the etiquette department.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Fleeting
Today was Baby Girl's first day of second grade. Each year, I feel a little older as she gets to be more and more grown up; a little taller, a little less round in the face, a lot more gangly. We decided to walk her to school this year, at least part of the time, for some exercise for me and some fresh air for everyone else. It's not a bad walk; our neighborhood (or "city" as she used to call it when we first moved in) is surrounded by good North Carolina woodland and the school path winds along between civilization and wilderness for a little more than a mile. But I have a fabulous double jogging stroller for the little ones, and we had a nice, fragrant walk to school this morning.
As we walked, we talked about the other kids who live closer than us and HAD to walk to school. Baby Girl is looking forward to the day that she is old enough to take herself to and from school, which the Army says is 5th grade. That got me thinking ahead a few years to when all of my kids are in school. When Pumpkin is in Kindergarten, Sweetie will be in second grade, and Baby Girl will be in seventh grade. Five years in the future. It seems a long ways away to me now; the baby is still waking to eat at night, Sweetie is still mastering potty training. Baby Girl is still mastering reading and math concepts. They seem so young to me still. Then I realized that just five years ago, Baby Girl was a bright, funny two-year-old. And I realized that five years is just a blink of the eye.
All too soon my babies will all be in school and I'll be missing the sleepless nights and wet pants and snuggling in bed to listen to stories read haltingly by a novice reader. Soon, five years will turn into 10. Then 15. Then 20. And the XO (my husband, or Executive Officer) and I will be alone again.(although hopefully with some grandchildren!)
There were days this summer that I couldn't WAIT for bedtime. Or school to start. Or the XO to get home. So that I could pee in private. Or check my email without someone whining that they wanted to play on PBSKids.com. Or even bask in the gloriousness of the clean house I scrubbed all day long. And all along I KNEW I should be trying to slow down and enjoy the moments, ignore the crumbs on the floor or the stray shoes in the hall. I KNEW I should be writing down all the funny things Sweetie said or the milestones Pumpkin reached or spending extra time teaching Baby Girl how to sew instead of mopping the kitchen floor that was going to get spilled on 20 minutes later anyway. But I didn't pause to enjoy them nearly enough.
So, on the way to second grade this morning, it hit me hard. My babies are growing up with lightning speed and I better be careful that I don't miss it! I need to again make it my priority to spend quality time with each of them and all of them. It's so easy to get caught up in schedules and appointments, homework and classes, the million little daily tasks that keep a household running smoothly. But my kids aren't going to remember that we were on time and ready for every single dance class, or that I always swept and mopped the kitchen floor after each meal. They'll remember having popcorn and movie nights, playing Memory on a rainy day, reading bedtime stories in mom and dad's bed. I hope they'll remember that Mom took the time to hear each of their problems and share in each of their successes. I hope when they become mothers themselves, they will know what to do and will be confident in their ability to do it. And I really hope they'll always know how unutterably precious each one of them is to me. Because I can't give them anything better than that.
As we walked, we talked about the other kids who live closer than us and HAD to walk to school. Baby Girl is looking forward to the day that she is old enough to take herself to and from school, which the Army says is 5th grade. That got me thinking ahead a few years to when all of my kids are in school. When Pumpkin is in Kindergarten, Sweetie will be in second grade, and Baby Girl will be in seventh grade. Five years in the future. It seems a long ways away to me now; the baby is still waking to eat at night, Sweetie is still mastering potty training. Baby Girl is still mastering reading and math concepts. They seem so young to me still. Then I realized that just five years ago, Baby Girl was a bright, funny two-year-old. And I realized that five years is just a blink of the eye.
All too soon my babies will all be in school and I'll be missing the sleepless nights and wet pants and snuggling in bed to listen to stories read haltingly by a novice reader. Soon, five years will turn into 10. Then 15. Then 20. And the XO (my husband, or Executive Officer) and I will be alone again.(although hopefully with some grandchildren!)
There were days this summer that I couldn't WAIT for bedtime. Or school to start. Or the XO to get home. So that I could pee in private. Or check my email without someone whining that they wanted to play on PBSKids.com. Or even bask in the gloriousness of the clean house I scrubbed all day long. And all along I KNEW I should be trying to slow down and enjoy the moments, ignore the crumbs on the floor or the stray shoes in the hall. I KNEW I should be writing down all the funny things Sweetie said or the milestones Pumpkin reached or spending extra time teaching Baby Girl how to sew instead of mopping the kitchen floor that was going to get spilled on 20 minutes later anyway. But I didn't pause to enjoy them nearly enough.
So, on the way to second grade this morning, it hit me hard. My babies are growing up with lightning speed and I better be careful that I don't miss it! I need to again make it my priority to spend quality time with each of them and all of them. It's so easy to get caught up in schedules and appointments, homework and classes, the million little daily tasks that keep a household running smoothly. But my kids aren't going to remember that we were on time and ready for every single dance class, or that I always swept and mopped the kitchen floor after each meal. They'll remember having popcorn and movie nights, playing Memory on a rainy day, reading bedtime stories in mom and dad's bed. I hope they'll remember that Mom took the time to hear each of their problems and share in each of their successes. I hope when they become mothers themselves, they will know what to do and will be confident in their ability to do it. And I really hope they'll always know how unutterably precious each one of them is to me. Because I can't give them anything better than that.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Homecoming
Something happened yesterday that made me happy and emotional and thankful and humble and awed. But mostly happy. Mostly really happy with warm fuzzies. And that was a soldier placing temporary signs along the road.
I'd spent the day running all over post, trying to make sure I stayed on time for all my errands. My oldest daughter, Baby Girl, was at her sewing class, and in the mean time, I'd run to the post office to mail off some of my handmade items, taken my sick middle daughter (Sweetie) to the doctor's office, and fed my baby daughter (Pumpkin) in the somewhat-cooler-than-outside-AC of my car. All while planning dinner in my head, as we were going to the commissary after sewing class, and internally whining about how it was only Tuesday and my husband was going to be out in the field for three more LONG days!
As I was leaving the doctor's office, I noticed a soldier get out of his car and place a smallish, temporary sign at an intersection. It had arrows directing drivers to the redeployment area. And I got a little thrill! Redeployment!
Now, I'm sure everyone can appreciate why redeployment is special. It's that homecoming that they show on the news or in YouTube clips. It's newly-weds reuniting or a soldier holding his baby for the first time or soldier hugging her children again. Sappy, tear-jerker moments that the media loves to capture. It's a feel-good, human interest story. And the on-lookers can be a part of the celebration. What the media doesn't show is how a homecoming--ANY homecoming--is a special, wonderful thing for an Army spouse.
I've been married to my soldier for 8 years now, but we began dating during our senior year of high school, and he enlisted about a year and a half later. We did the long-distance thing through basic training and his first duty station, since I was in college. And the separation was hard and the reunions were great, but we didn't appreciate them until he was deployed to a war zone in 2003.
For months, I slept with CNN on my dorm-room TV 24/7. You see, he was with the 3rd Infantry Division and was with the first wave into Iraq. And I was young and the nation was tense and it was scary. But, I was used to being away from him, so for me, the misery of that first deployment was the worry of his safety. It was a short deployment, though. Only six and a half months.
That particular homecoming was in mid-July. In Georgia. And we sat in a gym on Kelly Hill that was not air-conditioned, waiting for what seemed like forever (and the last two hours are FOREVER!) for the buses to pull in. I can remember only bits and pieces; fragmented memories like snapshots because I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I remember the air was heavy with the humidity of the south, but also with a barely suppressed excitement and joy. I sat ramrod straight on the wooden bleachers, trying desperately not to muss my hair or smudge my make-up, all the while counting off the minutes, 60 seconds at a time. And then, I remember watching them all file in, straight rows, straight backs, heads held high despite the full battle gear they all wore. I remember searching frantically for MY soldier, only to find that they really do all look alike. Then there was the commander's short speech and dismissal order. From my spot on the bleachers, it looked like a sheet of camouflaged glass that had been broken and the splinters scattered, searching for loved ones. I remember the first kiss and embrace and tears. Because we were so young and so scared and so thankful.
Fast forward to our second homecoming two and a half years later. I'd graduated college, we'd gotten married, and I was three months pregnant when he deployed-again, to Iraq. Our daughter was born right in the middle of R&R, thank goodness! But, there's nothing like seeing your husband for the first time in six months with a baby and a post-baby body! I'd moved home to Ohio, and had to fly down to Ft. Benning for the homecoming. I changed my flight four times in three days before getting official word from the FRG that he was coming home. Then my flight was late. Luckily, so was his! This time, the new building at the air field was constructed, and Baby Girl and I were able to sit in comfort and warmth (it was January) while we watched and cheered as they de-planed. When they finally assembled in front of us and were dismissed, I felt like an ant, scurrying around everywhere, looking for my soldier. When I finally found him, Baby Girl was squished between us, caught up in our embrace. We just laughed and Baby Girl just LOOKED at Daddy.
Our third homecoming was just a month shy of three years later. Baby Girl was a boisterous, happy three year old, and Christmas was right around the corner. This was a Guard deployment, and it was the first rodeo for many of the soldiers and their families, so the excitement level was through the roof! The ceremony was being held at a local high school with all the state politicians and high school students in attendance. Quite different from the other experiences we'd had. But, Baby Girl and I had made signs and dressed up and were standing outside the school building in the icy, misty half-rain, ready to meet the buses. This was the first time we'd been able to get a hug as soon as we made eye contact, so that was kind of special. There were immediate and extended family there; being the National Guard, most soldiers had a lot of family and friends close by. The buses pulled in and everyone cheered and tried, with barely-concealed patience, to get to their loved one without knocking down everyone in their path! I can remember that Baby Girl got the first hug that time, and I'm pretty sure I cried at the look on her face.
Our fourth homecoming occurred just eight months ago. Because we got to Ft. Bragg after his unit deployed, my husband was sent to Iraq on the last flight out. In fact, we had a return range of dates for his unit BEFORE he left! He was gone just 10 weeks--barely a blink in the Army world--but we got to go to the airfield and watch the planes come in in person instead of on a monitor, so that was exciting! Baby Girl was 6 and a half and Sweetie was almost 2, and I was just about 6 months pregnant with Pumpkin, so it was very thrilling for them to get up early and get dressed in their matching shirts to welcome Daddy home. They liked the balloons and the snacks I'd brought in case we had to wait! Oh, and of course, they liked to see Daddy.
In most books about deployments and homecomings, they tell you never to have too high of expectations about the event. That low-key is best, and you should ease back into your roles. And they're right. But it's also important to enjoy the high, because it's like nothing I've ever experienced. The 9-, 12-, 15-month deployments are so hard. And they seem so long at the beginning. Until you get to the last two weeks, when you have a DATE. And the last five days, when you are frantically cleaning house and getting your hair done. And the final two hours that you are waiting at the redeployment site with your children, who USED to be clean, neat, and adorably dressed, but are now covered in Goldfish crumbs and apple juice and are dirty and disheveled from crawling around on the floor. And the last five or so minutes that it takes you to find your soldier in the fabulous chaos of ACUs and stilettos. And the 3 seconds it takes to get to him and to finally touch him again. And then--that moment that you DO finally get to touch him again--in that moment, that crazy, ridiculous rush of emotion--it almost makes the deployment worth it. Almost.
The girls and I saw, well actually drove under, some of the planes on our way home, and we talked about the mommies and daddies that were coming home. Just knowing that their loved ones were waiting for them made me smile and think about how there might be a lot of parts in this Army life that are hard and ugly, there are also some of the best experiences in the world. I'm thankful to make it through the ugly parts and enjoy the awesome ones!
I'd spent the day running all over post, trying to make sure I stayed on time for all my errands. My oldest daughter, Baby Girl, was at her sewing class, and in the mean time, I'd run to the post office to mail off some of my handmade items, taken my sick middle daughter (Sweetie) to the doctor's office, and fed my baby daughter (Pumpkin) in the somewhat-cooler-than-outside-AC of my car. All while planning dinner in my head, as we were going to the commissary after sewing class, and internally whining about how it was only Tuesday and my husband was going to be out in the field for three more LONG days!
As I was leaving the doctor's office, I noticed a soldier get out of his car and place a smallish, temporary sign at an intersection. It had arrows directing drivers to the redeployment area. And I got a little thrill! Redeployment!
Now, I'm sure everyone can appreciate why redeployment is special. It's that homecoming that they show on the news or in YouTube clips. It's newly-weds reuniting or a soldier holding his baby for the first time or soldier hugging her children again. Sappy, tear-jerker moments that the media loves to capture. It's a feel-good, human interest story. And the on-lookers can be a part of the celebration. What the media doesn't show is how a homecoming--ANY homecoming--is a special, wonderful thing for an Army spouse.
I've been married to my soldier for 8 years now, but we began dating during our senior year of high school, and he enlisted about a year and a half later. We did the long-distance thing through basic training and his first duty station, since I was in college. And the separation was hard and the reunions were great, but we didn't appreciate them until he was deployed to a war zone in 2003.
For months, I slept with CNN on my dorm-room TV 24/7. You see, he was with the 3rd Infantry Division and was with the first wave into Iraq. And I was young and the nation was tense and it was scary. But, I was used to being away from him, so for me, the misery of that first deployment was the worry of his safety. It was a short deployment, though. Only six and a half months.
That particular homecoming was in mid-July. In Georgia. And we sat in a gym on Kelly Hill that was not air-conditioned, waiting for what seemed like forever (and the last two hours are FOREVER!) for the buses to pull in. I can remember only bits and pieces; fragmented memories like snapshots because I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I remember the air was heavy with the humidity of the south, but also with a barely suppressed excitement and joy. I sat ramrod straight on the wooden bleachers, trying desperately not to muss my hair or smudge my make-up, all the while counting off the minutes, 60 seconds at a time. And then, I remember watching them all file in, straight rows, straight backs, heads held high despite the full battle gear they all wore. I remember searching frantically for MY soldier, only to find that they really do all look alike. Then there was the commander's short speech and dismissal order. From my spot on the bleachers, it looked like a sheet of camouflaged glass that had been broken and the splinters scattered, searching for loved ones. I remember the first kiss and embrace and tears. Because we were so young and so scared and so thankful.
Fast forward to our second homecoming two and a half years later. I'd graduated college, we'd gotten married, and I was three months pregnant when he deployed-again, to Iraq. Our daughter was born right in the middle of R&R, thank goodness! But, there's nothing like seeing your husband for the first time in six months with a baby and a post-baby body! I'd moved home to Ohio, and had to fly down to Ft. Benning for the homecoming. I changed my flight four times in three days before getting official word from the FRG that he was coming home. Then my flight was late. Luckily, so was his! This time, the new building at the air field was constructed, and Baby Girl and I were able to sit in comfort and warmth (it was January) while we watched and cheered as they de-planed. When they finally assembled in front of us and were dismissed, I felt like an ant, scurrying around everywhere, looking for my soldier. When I finally found him, Baby Girl was squished between us, caught up in our embrace. We just laughed and Baby Girl just LOOKED at Daddy.
Our third homecoming was just a month shy of three years later. Baby Girl was a boisterous, happy three year old, and Christmas was right around the corner. This was a Guard deployment, and it was the first rodeo for many of the soldiers and their families, so the excitement level was through the roof! The ceremony was being held at a local high school with all the state politicians and high school students in attendance. Quite different from the other experiences we'd had. But, Baby Girl and I had made signs and dressed up and were standing outside the school building in the icy, misty half-rain, ready to meet the buses. This was the first time we'd been able to get a hug as soon as we made eye contact, so that was kind of special. There were immediate and extended family there; being the National Guard, most soldiers had a lot of family and friends close by. The buses pulled in and everyone cheered and tried, with barely-concealed patience, to get to their loved one without knocking down everyone in their path! I can remember that Baby Girl got the first hug that time, and I'm pretty sure I cried at the look on her face.
 |
| Baby Girl and Daddy in 2008 |
 |
| Sweetie and Daddy in 2011 |
The girls and I saw, well actually drove under, some of the planes on our way home, and we talked about the mommies and daddies that were coming home. Just knowing that their loved ones were waiting for them made me smile and think about how there might be a lot of parts in this Army life that are hard and ugly, there are also some of the best experiences in the world. I'm thankful to make it through the ugly parts and enjoy the awesome ones!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
A Big Step
So, where to start? I have been thinking about and wanting to start a blog for quite a while now, perhaps as a way to fill time, (oh, who am I kidding, I have no free time!) or perhaps to share those easily-forgotten-but-oh-so-precious everyday moments with family and friends far away, or perhaps to salvage a piece of myself in this craziness of real life. Or perhaps all three. I guess I hope to be able to keep friends and family up-to-date and to enjoy reflecting on those little things that I might otherwise forget. The way my oldest makes the baby giggle like no one else can. Or the way my middle tells the most off the wall knock-knock jokes that are so crazy they're funny. (Knock-knock. Who's there? Orange. Orange who? Orange, banana, apple!!!)
You see, all of my family and most of my friends are back "home," as I will probably always refer to it. We are an Army family, and although we've been back in a year now, there are still days I long for the familiar and the girls long for grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles. It's sometimes a difficult thing, this Army life, but it can also be a blessing. Hopefully I can share those blessings as I start this blogging journey.
You see, all of my family and most of my friends are back "home," as I will probably always refer to it. We are an Army family, and although we've been back in a year now, there are still days I long for the familiar and the girls long for grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles. It's sometimes a difficult thing, this Army life, but it can also be a blessing. Hopefully I can share those blessings as I start this blogging journey.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)