Night Two of the Grand Parental Experiment is now behind us. I have to tell you, I am ill at ease. The whole thing is going off far too successfully! I am bewildered!
Last night, at the appointed time, I took Bunny upstairs to go to bed. (The preceding events of supper, bath, story, quiet family time were all dutifully observed.) She sat down in her crib, I pulled up her blanket, kissed her fuzzy head and told her it was bedtime, gave her her bear, turned on her cd player, and left the room.
Not a peep. Not a cry, not a whine, not even a soft mew was heard from her room. I, to be honest, was incredibly worried. Something must be wrong...Ten minutes later, I couldn't help myself. I had to go check on her. She was asleep! Can you believe that?
She woke up at 2 am, per the normal. I let her whine and cry for a bit, then I got up and turned her cd player back on. I told her it was sleepy time and left the room. She went back to sleep.
She woke again at 4 am, so I turned her cd player back on and returned to bed. I had to wake her up at 6 am.
So, I am making great leaps forward on the bedtime issue and there is little fight when she wakes up in the middle of the night. All in all, great progress I think.
Of course, I'm worried that this is all a bit too easy...
I didn't say much about Al Gore's "documentary" winning an Oscar, because frankly, who gives a shit? Certainly not me. I'm not going to go see it anymore than I am a lot of the junk that Hollywood puts out there.
Sure, I'm one of the man-made global warming skeptics. Sure, I called Minnesota's push to give Al Gore an honorary Climatology degree a public bj. But, I wasn't going to gun for the guy in particular.
Gore's talking head had this to say about this "inconvenient truth": "You can't just look at a month's utility bills, or a year's utility bills and understand a man's life," she told FOXNews.com in a phone interview.
My GAWD! Someone has a strong sense of Noblesse Oblige and Divine Right, don't they?
Frankly, I think the stink is pretty noisome on this one. Of course, it neither shocks or even registers with me. Folks like Gore (and his Hollywood friends in their own mansions and multiple dwellings) are always insisting that the rest of us do more while they fly their private jets off to NYC to go shopping for the day and heat their swimming pools in February, etc.
You want to convince me, Al? Do a bit more to be like the rest of us. Then, maybe, I'll give credence to your theory. Until then, I suggest you go suck on one of the tailpipes from your motorcade.
After my lengthy whining post yesterday about Bunny Boop's sleep issues, I did some research. I googled toddler's not sleeping through the night and came up with a bevy of information. And then, I read the comment of a dear friend, which seemed to prop up my research with the real life experience of someone I know and trust. This was good enough for me, so I settled on a plan of action and implemented it last night.
Pursuant to this, here is the timeline/plan and the results of the experiment:
4:30 - Arrive home. Play time. Mommy-baby interaction. 5:30 - Bunny Boop's Suppertime 6:00 - Bathtime 6:30 - Storytime with milk (10-15 minutes) 7:00 - Daddy gets up, Family time 7:30 - Bunny Boop Bedtime
This plan deviates little from what we had been doing before. In fact, the only significant changes were the moving the bath up to 6 pm and the addition of story time. And, I'm hoping that I can still be flexible on this. It is difficult to make mommy and daddy's supper within this timeline, so being able to push the bath to 6:30 and having storytime at 6:50 will remain a possibility on the table. I'm hoping that so long as the events are in order and none skipped, the "event" of bedtime will remain intact. The only other change of note was the bedtime enforcement. Bunny is usually sleepy by 7:30, but sometimes she resists going to sleep. Last night, bedtime was bedtime. She went upstairs, asleep or not.
The timeline above was followed specifically. Storytime took place in my lap, with a blanket and a bear, and I read softly to her one fairytale and one poem. After that, I got supper on the table and Prince Charming came downstairs. After we ate (Bunny had some fruit snacks in her chair while we ate), we all adjourned to the living room. Bunny had some more of her milk, all the time sitting in my lap. At 7:30 she didn't want anymore milk and wanted out of my lap. But, it was bedtime so I took her upstairs.
I kissed her. I snuggled her. I made sure she had her blanket and her bear. I turned on her cd, turned off the overhead lights and turned on her little lamp, kissed her head again, and left the room.
And my heart just about broke. She was screaming bloody murder. She was wild-eyed pissed-off. I was crying by the time my foot hit the first floor. I looked at the clock and determined to go back up in five minutes. Prince Charming asked if I was okay. Not so much. I did some dishes, cleared the table, that sort of thing. With one minute to go before I could return upstairs, the crying ceased. When the alotted time had passed, I crept back up the stairs and snuck a look into her room.
She was no longer standing up in her crib. I listened carefully. The breathing was steady and even. I chanced it and risked a more comprehensive view. She was asleep. Not wanting to wake her, I backed out of the room and went back downstairs. Thirty minutes later I went up and covered her up and turned her lamp off.
So far so good, right?
Fast forward to 2:00 a.m. The kid is like a clock! I am awakened by whining, still tentative and not yet really upset. I look at the clock and mark the time. I listen to the whining become short cries. When five minutes has passed, I go into her room and comfort her. I kiss her head, pat and rub her back. I restart her cd player. I kiss her again, speak softly to her that it is bedtime. It is okay. Go to sleep. After one minute, I walk out of the room and back to my own. I look at the clock and mark the time, intent on returning to her in 10 minutes.
When I left her in her room, she was greatly displeased. This caused the crying to be very loud and dramatic. It wrenched at my heart, but no more so than when I was in her room and she tried to climb into my arms. So, I sit on my bed, watching the numbers on my digital clock change very slowly. Four of the alotted 10 minutes pass and the crying stops. Still, I continue to wait until the 10 minutes are up before checking on her. When I do, she is asleep. I cover her back up and go back to bed. It takes me a while, but I finally fall back to sleep.
This seems to have been an incredible success. I'm really very encouraged by this. I think in 2 weeks this will be a non-issue. Of course, I'm also kicking myself for not doing something sooner to nip this in the bud. What can I say? I've never done this before. I'm still learning. I will tell you this: I am aware that I caused this problem. I own that. It is easier for me to say it that it is for me to hear it, though. But, as you will note, I have also come up with a solution (still a work-in-progress though it might be) and I own that too.
It isn't easy to listen to Bunny cry, no question. But, I feel like a very accomplished mommy today. However, before you jump in and caution me, I am aware that it may not be this easy every night in the short term. I'm aware. But I'm also hopeful.
My wonderful husband actually suggested I post this topic today. And who am I to argue, right?
Maybe you can help us out.
One month (maybe two) before Bunny Boop learned to walk, she stopped sleeping through the night. For some reason, she would wake between 2 and 3 a.m. Sometimes she would go right back to sleep, and other times she wouldn't. I had read that learning to walk often interrupts sleeping through the night, so I wasn't very worried.
I was tired, but I wasn't worried.
Now, however, I am a bit concerned. She is now 14 months old and still not back to sleeping through the night. I've been doing the 2:30 a.m. wake up call for four months now and it isn't getting any easier. In fact, just to keep things fresh, she's sometimes waking at midnight and 2:30 a.m.
Look, I had big ideals. I never intended to bring her into bed with me, I swear. The problem is, my husband works nights, so when she wakes up it is all on me. Moreover, I get up at 5 a.m. to get ready for work, get Bunny Boop ready for her day, and then feed her before her father gets home and I can go to work. But when this all started to happen, I quickly tired of rocking her back to sleep. It wasn't practical. And, more often than not, laying her back in her crib woke her back up. And then I would have to start all over again.
This is killing me. I'm three nights away from being a zombie. My mind is mush and I am living on caffeine. I am even having nightmares and because my sleep pattern is so screwed up, I'm waking up from these nightmares spooked. This morning, I was in the shower and still worried about the serial killer that I had been talking to on the phone. Even after my shower, I was still spooked and had to look in on Bunny in her crib to make sure she was still there and okay.
Here's my question for you, my experienced and loyal readers: What is going on with Bunny?
I have been told to increase her protein intake - this didn't help. I have been told to soften her crib - this didn't help. I have been told to let her cry - this really didn't help in too many ways to count. I have been told to let her soothe herself - yeah, this isn't happening either. I have been asked if she is getting too cold/too warm at night - I don't think this is the problem.
There is nothing wrong with her bed or her room. She is fidgeting at night and waking herself up. I know this because when she comes to bed with me, she fidgets and kicks and frequently lands a blow to me in a sensitive female region. This is weird!
Last night, Bunny went to bed at 8:30 p.m. She woke up at 12:30 and I brought her into my room with me. She fell back to sleep and so did I. At 2:30 a.m., she woke up very unhappy. I changed her diaper, gave her some milk, and she started to nod off. I held her for a while and then tried to put her back in her crib. This woke her back up. I held her some more, gave her more milk, and again, she began to nod off. I held her until I thought she was out, then I put her in her crib. Those little eyes popped open and she jumped up before I had the rail up. I held her in my arms, standing there by the crib, rocking her and listening to the daddies sing the lullabies cd. She nods off again, I put her in the crib, and she wakes back up. It is a lather-rinse-repeat cycle and I can seem to break it. At 4 a.m., I finally gave up and brought her back to bed with me. We both fell back to sleep and I got up an hour later and put her in her crib.
Somebody, please, tell me what to do. I am irritable, short-tempered, exhausted, manic, and zombie-ish. My face has lines (LINES!!!!!) and bags, not the fine leather sort, and my skin is not lively. This is killing me.
So, as you might have surmised from my shameful lack of posting, things have been busy. Very, very busy. And then? Then it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And snowed some more.
In fact, it is still snowing.
To be fair, we were expecting the storm. We were expecting 2 inches on Friday (we got 8 inches), another 6 inches on Saturday (we got 8 inches), and 2-4 on Sunday (it might have measured 2-3 inches). Friday night was an absolute nightmare. It was a blizzard! Snow was blowing so much that at times we couldn't see the house across the street. And, I mean literally across the street. And, it is a big grey house. So, there you go.
Saturday morning, all of the men in the neighborhood were in high cotton. You should have seen them. They all went happily to work with their plows and snowblowers and then were helping each other out. This same boys-and-their-power-toys scene played out again on Sunday morning when the dig out began anew. Too funny. My own husband was careful to tamp down his sheer glee whenever he came to the door, but I could see plainly he was having a good time. For one, he was upset that the neighbor had blown off part of our sidewalk, and then when he finished our driveway, he scurried across the street to help a buddy.
The roads were not bad enough on Saturday morning to keep me from my pedicure appointment, however. I lingered in the pedicure throne for some time and then came home and did some grocery shopping. Strangely, it seemed to be predominantly men in the grocery store. I don't have a problem with this, but it is not the norm. Usually you see lots of women grocery shopping on Saturday. Instead, it was a bunch of canyon-man types with lists, asking each other where to find stuff. And they were all clueless. I wonder if this male-specific blizzard-glee didn't mean that men all over the area volunteered to do the shopping so honey could stay home. It is just a theory. I have no proof whatsoever. But, I think it worth investigating. You'll be proud to know that I directed my fair share of these johnny-come-lately hunter/gatherers to the items they sought. I'm approachable, you see. It is the curls. People don't see my menacing scowl because of the curls.
For the record, I'm going to remember them the next time I have a flat tire when I'm wearing a skirt. $20 says they all fly right past me without stopping.
I found this little nugget in my inbox this morning. And, boy, can I ever understand the frustration that this guy is having that prompted this hilarious response. I'm really proud of his creativity, actually. Check it out.
My issues with this controversy are many. First, however, is the distinct hypocrisy of it all. For some unknown reason, it is only the mascots who revere or portray images from Native American culture that are being targeted. If one where to take a long look at a list of University Mascots, one would find more to be offended by than a handful of Indians.
Right off the bat, one can see how PETA would be angry with the denigration of proud and noble animals who have been placed in servitude to some Universities. The animals so enslaved run the gamut of the animal kingdom: alligators, wolves, eagles, ducks, tigers, jayhawks (some sort of breeding experiment between a bluejay and a sparrowhawk), bearcats, bears, bulldogs, beavers (what will the womyn say?!?), steers, elephants (haven't Barnum and Bailey done enough harm to this noble beast?), razorbacks, goats, bison, dragons, huskeys, bobcats, the Blue Devil (surely this is offensive to devil worshippers and wiccans?), badgers, horses, cougars, sheep, camels, cardinals, buffalo, gamecock, mastadon, dolphin, falcon, gopher, gorilla, hawk, hokie bird, owl (with all the birds listed here, one might expect that the Audubon Society should be up in arms about the vilification of so many of their feathered friends), jaguar, kangaroo, pegasus, cat, mule (an animal that already carries a considerable burden), lion, osprey, penguin, anteater, polar bear, panther, redbird, pelican, bull, roadrunner, seahawk, saluki, mockingbird, ibis, shark, stag, horned toad, and the hen.
And need I point out the real life animals who are so indentured? Servitude. Slavery. Filthy universities who whore out living and breathing animals for the amusement of the public - like a common circus act. REPREHENSIBLE! A non-comprehensive list of real-life animal slavers includes the following:
University of Kentucky (live bobcat) Oklahoma State (a living American Quarterhorse) Mississippi State (live bulldog) Colorado State (live big horn ram) SUNY New Paltz (live goshawk) Yale (live bulldog) Georgetown (live bulldog) Baylor University (live black bear) Loyola - Chicago (live wolf) Colorado (live bison) North Carolina (live Ram) Texas A&M (live collie) Southern Illinois (live saluki dog) Tennessee (live bluetick coonhound) University of Memphis (live tiger) University of Southern California (live horse) University of Arkansas (live razorback) Georgia (live bulldog)
The insect world isn't spared the indignity either, with bees and spiders carrying the weight. Why, even the lowly slug is singled out for humiliation at the hands of UC Santa Cruz. The plant world's victims include the buckeye, the orange, the chili pepper, conifer, and wheat.
In terms of other groups, this time people who are made laughingstocks by their portrayal include: colonels, commodores, rebels, miners, vandals, knights, people of Irish descent (really, they aren't all violent and "fighting"), little boys, lumberjacks, Aztecs, Scotsmen, pioneers, the Norse, pirates, cowboys (insulting to cowboys and a rude and offensive reminder to American Indians everywhere), Quakers, Minutemen (surely an insult to Viagra patients), spartans, friar boys, and Vikings.
And, in the category of over-the-top-insult and injury: the bear forced to wear a tartan at UC Riverside.
So, with all of that tongue firmly in cheek listing behind us, I think it important to boil down my point.
And that is: offense is in the eye of the beholder. Offense may be taken where it was not intended to be given. And, offense is not limited to the politically correct identified groups of victims. Sure, American Indians are in today, but the Irish and Scots are deserving of equal respect and have feelings as well. And, just because our feathered and furred friends can not speak, does not mean they can not be victimized.
Clearly, pretty much all mascots are images which depict the denigration or subjugation of some entity. Interesting that so many universities and colleges have chosen to use some poor dismal creature to belittle and then represent themselves.
I would like to wish my faithful readers a Happy Valentine's Day. May your special someone remember to treat you especially well today (and likewise you treat him/her well).
Today is also special for another reason. It is my wedding anniversary. Four years ago I married my Prince Charming. I've never looked back. It was easily the smartest thing I've ever done in my life. I've never been happier and probably don't deserve him. He treats me too well, by far, and spoils me shamelessly.
So, Happy Valentine's Day to you and to my best friend.
Me? I don't believe it for a minute. We've been down this track before. The North Korean dictator is not one for holding up his end of a bargain. Mark my words: they'll get the aid, but then start up their programs again and we'll be negotiating again in no time.
Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe my mind is slipping. Maybe I'm so super-tired that my brain is processing image and sound and different speeds.
These are the thoughts that run through my brain sometimes when watching television commercials and the main reason for this post. Perhaps you have noticed it too?
There is a national commercial spot running these days in the sound is not synced-up with the video. Have you seen it? The woman is talking, but the sound coming forth does not match what her lips are saying. The sound is slow, if I remember correctly.
In any event, I can't even tell you what product it is they are trying to sell. The oddities in the video/sound sync in the commercial are so distracting, I spend the whole time trying to figure out what is wrong. I'm not listening to the message. I'm not admiring the product. Instead, I spend the 30 seconds trying to figure out if I'm going crazy. If maybe my brain is fried. But, soon enough the next commercial begins and all is right with the world again.
I have to think that it would be a more effective ad campaign if it didn't annoy, distract, and make people question their brains. I mean, hard to sell a product when people are so distracted by the message delivery that they don't take the message in. But then, I'm not in the ad game, so what do I know?
All of Al Gore's "movies" and "expertise" and "science" aside, I'm still a global warming skeptic. And this is not just about the below zero temperatures we've been seeing in my neck of the woods in recent weeks.
I'm just skeptical that "man" is the sole cause of this so-called warming. This comes from my understanding, intrinsic perhaps, that the Earth is a system. There are bigger factors that come into play than just man (like the sun) and as in any system, changes in one area tend to slide or cause accomodations in others. So, just put me in the "not convinced" column.
This article, which I found fascinating, goes a long way toward convincing me that Al Gore is wrong, that the politicians are wrong, and that man's influence on the system has been over-sold.
Enthusiasm for the global-warming scare also ensures that heatwaves make headlines, while contrary symptoms, such as this winter’s billion-dollar loss of Californian crops to unusual frost, are relegated to the business pages. The early arrival of migrant birds in spring provides colourful evidence for a recent warming of the northern lands. But did anyone tell you that in east Antarctica the Adélie penguins and Cape petrels are turning up at their spring nesting sites around nine days later than they did 50 years ago? While sea-ice has diminished in the Arctic since 1978, it has grown by 8% in the Southern Ocean.
So one awkward question you can ask, when you’re forking out those extra taxes for climate change, is “Why is east Antarctica getting colder?” It makes no sense at all if carbon dioxide is driving global warming. While you’re at it, you might inquire whether Gordon Brown will give you a refund if it’s confirmed that global warming has stopped. The best measurements of global air temperatures come from American weather satellites, and they show wobbles but no overall change since 1999.
That levelling off is just what is expected by the chief rival hypothesis, which says that the sun drives climate changes more emphatically than greenhouse gases do. After becoming much more active during the 20th century, the sun now stands at a high but roughly level state of activity. Solar physicists warn of possible global cooling, should the sun revert to the lazier mood it was in during the Little Ice Age 300 years ago.
Our Maximum Leader, yes he of the floppy mylan cap, has graciously stepped into the huge shoes left by The Crack Young Staff of The Hatemonger's Quarterly while said Crack Young Staff, let's call them collectively "Chip", goes on walk-about.
Yes, "Chip" and the rest of the staff have gone on The Hatemonger's Quarterly Annual Company Retreat, leaving the keys to the blog in the excellent hands of Our Maximum Leader, he of Naked Villainy fame.
Today, in perfect form, Our Maximum Leader brings the harsh glaring spotlight to bear on a horrendous international conspiracy that threatens our very way of life. Indeed, every red-blooded, apple-pie-loving American should be wary of the evil that threatens our very existence: Beware the Importation of Soccer/Futbol Hooligans.
The crux of the matter:
This elite gang of team-owning robber barons has plotted to undermine the foundations of our nation through the introduction of soccer hooligans to our shores. The plan calls for the hooligans to first disrupt basketball games, and then move on to football and baseball. Eventually, the hooligans will move from professional games to semi-professional games and then onto collegiate sports then high school, then little league. In the course of a few short years no public sporting event will be safe. A Democratically controlled Congress will investigate and eventually set about enacting a massive legislative package that will diminish our personal liberties and even outlaw apple pie.
Outlaw Apple Pie?!? Hooligans at Little League Games?!?
Say it isn't so!
Man the torpedoes! All hands on deck! 40 Acres and a Mule! Pull up your socks, boys, Kiss your Girls, and Pick up a Rifle!
2. Do you have a favorite type of pen? yes. Actually I have several favorites. Generally they all have one thing in common and that is the ease with which the ink flows.
3. Look at your planner for March 14, what are you doing? Nothing is scheduled, as yet, but I will be working.
4. What color are your toenails usually? Red. Like a sports car.
5. What was the last thing you highlighted? cells on a spreadsheet.
6. What color are your bedroom curtains? Sage green
7. What color are the seats in your car? grey
8. Have you ever had a black and white cat? yes, a barn cat
9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on? A bill.
10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? Yes. Stepmother's good friend.
11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Um, I can't remember the last time I used the ATM.
12. Who is the last baby that you held? Tyler, the neighbor. For the record, Bunny Boop is now a toddler, not a baby.
13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? No. Clearly some parents should be shot.
14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste? No, but strangely love cinnamon.
15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? The same one I'm driving now: my lovely Jeep.
16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators. What in heaven's name for?
17. Last time you went to Six Flags? The Eighth grade.
18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house? No.
19. Closest thing to you that is yellow?My Burt's Bees chapstick tube.
20. Last person to give you a business card? The Brits.
21. Who is the last person you wrote a check to? A creditor, I believe.
22. Closest framed picture to you?Bunny Boop.
23. Last time you had someone cook for you? Prince Charming made me breakfast on Sunday.
24. Have you ever applied for welfare? No.
25. How many emails do you have? too many.
26. Last time you received flowers? Last year, Valentine's Day/My Wedding Anniversary
27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman? this question does not belong on this meme. It is the one thing that is not like all the others. I do not fall for sneaky stuff like this. So, my answer is "Bert and Ernie". Make of that what you will.
29. Do you play air guitar? Uh...no. And what happened to question #28?
30. Do you take anything in your coffee? I don't drink coffee.
32. What is your high school's rival mascot? I believe they were the Indians. What happened to #31?
33. Last person you spoke to from high school? Actual voice? Mark. Email? Dawn or Julianne, probably.
34. Last time you used hand sanitizer? Hmm. this weekend.
35. Would you like to learn to play the drums? Uh, no.
36. What color are the blinds in your living room? We don't have blinds.
37. What is in your inbox at work? Don't have one. things end up in my chair.
38. Last thing you read in the newspaper? I don't read the paper. I get my news online.
39. What was the last pageant you attended? Never had the pleasure.
40. What is the last place you bought pizza from? The Schwan Man.
41. Have you ever worn a crown? A crown, no. A tiara? Yes. As part of a costume. Very empowering.
42. What is the last thing you stapled? A report.
43. Did you ever drink Clear Pepsi? No, I'm a coca cola classic girl.
44. Are you ticklish? Yes.
45. Last time you saw fireworks? About 3 weeks ago when Prince Charming decided to blow up some stuff that we had stored in the basement.
46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut? I can't recall.
47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned their call? My mom.
48. Last time you parked under a carport? Never.
49. Do you have a black dog? No. No pets of any kind.
50. Do you have any pickles in your fridge? Yes. Old Milwaukee dills, I believe, for the Bloody Marys that Prince Charming makes.
51. Are you an aunt or uncle? An aunt to 9 neices and nephews.
52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of? Is it horrible if I say mine? I think they are beautiful. but if I'm going to look into any for long, I prefer Bunny Boop's.
53. Last time you saw a semi truck? Just moments ago from my office window.
54. Do you remember Ugly Kidd Jo? yes.
55. Do you have a little black dress? Several, actually.
Today we hosted a British fact-finding mission at work. I was the contact person all along, so I was sort of the lead person for the logistics. Naturally, being me, I wanted our guests to feel comfortable in their visit.
They were, after all, a very long way from home. Moreover, and I stress that I am speaking in generalities here, the people of Wisconsin are not big on hospitality. Again, I'm speaking in generalities. I'm from a different place and measure by a different yardstick.
Anyway, I just wanted to go the extra mile, you know?
So, as I often do, I asked my guru, SpySistah, what I should do to make our guests feel particularly welcome. She suggested that we have tea on hand and something sweet. I dutifully went home and prepared blueberry muffins and brought tea cups for the meeting. I picked up some English Breakfast and Earl Grey and brought in some of my favorite Hot Cinnamon Sunset.
Do you know what they asked for when they arrived?
In most places this would not be a big deal. Unfortunately, we just don't do coffee here. The few coffee drinkers go out for their own cup and the rest drink Coke.
I wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot. I wanted to provide our guests with their hearts' desire, and failed. Miserably. They did like the muffins, though.
Still, I was horrified. It isn't like the stereotype is what did me in, either. I was working off of informed information. Bah! They were gracious about it and we all laughed, but I would have preferred to have done better.
For the record, the meeting went very well and our guests took home plenty of information.
But, as it turns out, the Brits do drink coffee. Oh, well. I tried.