I posted a little about this on Facebook earlier, but since it ties in so nicely with a post I was working on last week (and didn't publish because I reflected that it wasn't very polite), I'm going to elaborate on it all here. "It", namely, is what I where I was in my life 1o years ago, and how it relates to where I am now. It is quite possible to wax very eloquent - and for a very long time - on such a subject, but never fear. I am not sufficiently out of my first-trimester haze (my baby hasn't quite understood that I'm officially out of that trimester and no longer need to feel sick or tired AT ALL EVER these days) to put together anything very complicated or, for that matter, anything with too many big words or ideas. After all, as a dear relative (who doesn't read this) pointed out over the holidays, I HAVE had four children and am working on another one - it is doubtful whether I am still as smart as I was when I was a little girl. No joke - although I did laugh, and my feelings are not hurt. :-)
At any rate, ten years ago I was newly married (about 7 months), and we had just recently moved to Greenville, SC, where, incidentally, I was to meet some of you readers in later months! We were settling into married life, and into our very small apartment, and we were also preparing for our very first baby. I was about 18 weeks pregnant at the turn of the new year, and had little idea what was ahead. We were to make so many mistakes and engage in so many struggles in the decade to come, but we were also to gain wisdom and understanding, and to be plunged into deeper joys than we could imagine. Several moves and four beautiful children later, we are in our second house and in our more favored location in South Carolina - I appreciate having met you, my dear friends, but there was little else about Greenville that I loved! - and much is different about ourselves and our lives now as we approach the coming decade. But one thing that is the same is that I am once again pregnant, expecting an arrival next summer, just as I was 10 years ago. Of course, many of the circumstances are different, but there is something about the expecting itself, the secret communion between myself and this hidden treasure, that it exactly the same. It also occured to me today that I have spent the entire first decade of this century pregnant and/or nursing children. It's not the only thing I've done, but it has certainly characterized my life during these years. And that's ok. Not only is it ok, but it's the purpose I want to be fulfilling, and am happy to still be fulfilling. I am not accidentally "popping out babies," or just finding myself pregnant every couple years. I admit that on some occasions I have felt a little shell-shocked upon the discovery - not as if I weren't expecting it to happen at any time, but just being hit with the reality of it, and answering the questions and doubts in my own head. Is this a good time? Do I really want to do this? Usually when other people began asking these same questions out loud - and sometimes with the thinly veiled, "When do intend to be DONE?" - I come to my senses and remember that yes, I do want to do this. I don't consider children merely to be adornments for - or conversely, detractions from - my life, therefore, there's no set number that's "enough", and no number after which they become superfluous kids just draining us of time and money. What am I going to do with another one? A better question is what will this individual, this soul who will carve out a place in this world of their own, do with us? What will our family look like in this coming decade because of this new person? What joys will be ours while watching this person, and the four we have already, grow up? If we are given no more than five, then our joy will be complete - and yet somehow even greater if we have more. I don't know what the end number will be for us, and it's with purpose and peace that I embrace not knowing. I'm not worried that God doesn't know what he's doing and that my reproductive system will just continue to go haywire unless I do something about it. He may give us peace about using outward means to complete our family, but if he doesn't, I already have peace about accepting what he gives us now. And, by the way, if he gives us more boys from here on out, I'll be happy with that, too. More than one person has told my boys that they didn't "need" the brother they confessed to hoping for, and to that I say that we need whatever God intends to give us. It would be fun to have another girl, but I'm not praying desperately for one, as if I just won't know what to do with my life if I have another boy.
But there, I'm beginning to wander into the less-than-polite mode I had hoped to avoid. Suffice it say that this decade will hold for me some of the same as last decade. I will give birth, and nuture young children, and I don't know how long that will last. I do hope to explore some of personal creative outlets and to cultivate interests and ambitions, and it may be - it probably will be- that at some point in the next 10 years I will move past the baby stage altogether. But I'll embrace it for as many years as it continues. The business of bringing people into this world, and of raising them to God's glory, is a good and noble one. I'm thankful to be continuing with this little one growing in me now.
Happy New Year!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
One-Word
I have been in a deep, dark, first-trimester, how-long-is-this-going-to-last abyss, which explains my absence from my blog - as well as from my kitchen, any cleaning supplies in general, and basically any other responsibilities that involve moving. People ask me if it was this bad in my other pregnancies, and I can't remember the recent ones. I'm hoping I blocked those experiences out of my memory, because that means that there's a good chance I'll forget this at some point, too.
Anyway, I have no room or energy for creative thought. But this one-word thing (thanks, Jenny and Hannah) seems easy enough.
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Aargh.
3. Your mother? Busy
4. Your father? Eccentric
5. Your favorite food? Nothing
6. Your dream last night? Strange
7. Your favorite drink? Lemonade
8. Your dream/goal? Europe
9. What room are you in? School
10. Your hobby? Reading
11. Your fear? Secret
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Secure
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something that you aren’t? Sweet
15. Muffins? Pumpkin
16. Wish list item? Floor
17. Where did you grow up? York
18. Last thing you did? Fed
19. What are you wearing? Sweats
20. Your TV? Hand-me-down
21. Your pets? Many
22. Friends? Some
23. Your life? Full
24. Your mood? Bleh
25. Missing someone? Husband
26. Vehicle? Caravan
27. Something you’re not wearing? Socks
28. Your favorite store? Online
29. Your favorite color? Red
30. When was the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Recently
32. Your best friend? Far
33. One place that I go to over and over? Library
34. One person who emails me regularly? Dad
35. Favorite place to eat? Melting Pot
I couldn't help using 2 words for the Melting Pot, but other than that, I did pretty well!
Anyway, I have no room or energy for creative thought. But this one-word thing (thanks, Jenny and Hannah) seems easy enough.
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Aargh.
3. Your mother? Busy
4. Your father? Eccentric
5. Your favorite food? Nothing
6. Your dream last night? Strange
7. Your favorite drink? Lemonade
8. Your dream/goal? Europe
9. What room are you in? School
10. Your hobby? Reading
11. Your fear? Secret
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Secure
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something that you aren’t? Sweet
15. Muffins? Pumpkin
16. Wish list item? Floor
17. Where did you grow up? York
18. Last thing you did? Fed
19. What are you wearing? Sweats
20. Your TV? Hand-me-down
21. Your pets? Many
22. Friends? Some
23. Your life? Full
24. Your mood? Bleh
25. Missing someone? Husband
26. Vehicle? Caravan
27. Something you’re not wearing? Socks
28. Your favorite store? Online
29. Your favorite color? Red
30. When was the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Recently
32. Your best friend? Far
33. One place that I go to over and over? Library
34. One person who emails me regularly? Dad
35. Favorite place to eat? Melting Pot
I couldn't help using 2 words for the Melting Pot, but other than that, I did pretty well!
Friday, October 30, 2009
More on "How to Make Your Mom Go Crazy"
I posted something on this subject last fall. But here are some more helpful hints for how to to really drive your mom crazy. And again, this works best as a cooperative effort - the more siblings the better.
1. Go in and out the backdoor about 150 times (or more, if you can physically manage it). This time, make sure you hold the door open wide enough so that each time you let the indoor cat outside, and the outdoor dog inside. It's best if they cross paths chaotically, and you get bonus points if the dog stays in long enough to eat several of the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins your mom made this morning.
2.Make sure you reference Star Wars at every possible opportunity. Talk about it, argue about it, share with her every single piece of trivia there is to know about Star Wars. It's great if you do this during school time, too. (Such as when your mom asks you if anything sounds familiar about a representative type of government. Your face should light up, so that she thinks you're going to tell her about the United States government, the one you've been learning about since the middle of last school year - except you should say, "Oh yes! You mean like the representatives of Naboo!")
3.When she sends you to your disastrously messy room with instructions to PLEASE clean it up, go in there and stay behind your locked door for about half an hour - but don't actually pick anything up. When she finally asks you to open the door, act completely surprised and offended if she observes that nothing has actually changed. Insist, tearfully, that you DID clean up!
4.After you've played with - and left - a number of things inside the house, go out into the shed and rummage through all the interesting things out there. Take out all the gardening tools, leave the shed door wide open, then play with a fishing pole you found - make sure there's a hook on the end, and then when someone gets hurt, act like you didn't know that might be a bad idea. Do not go back and close the shed door, even if she asks you a couple times.
5.While she's out there with you, a younger sibling should get right to work tearing multiple pages out of a $40 Star Wars encyclopedia, owned by the library, of course. When you hear her reaction when she comes back in to discover this, follow her in and proceed to ask the most trivial question you can think of. Someone else can then ask repeatedly if she's going to have to pay for the book. When she finally answers that she thinks it can be repaired - but still appears to be highly annoyed about the whole situation - go on and on about how you really wished she would have to buy it, because it's such a great book. Maybe even offer some more Star Wars trivia that you learned from said book.
6.Plead for a snack (everybody should chime in). Before you're even finished eating the snack she gives you, hold up another food item and ask if you can eat that, too.
7.Ask to play the Wii when outside it is in the 70's and the skies are blue and sunny. If she says no, ask about the computer, or the TV, or ANYTHING electronic. When she says something about it being a perfectly beautiful day outside and no we are NOT going to get on anything with a screen, wait five minutes and then ask her again, as if you didn't hear what she said the first time.
Go outside some, but keep coming back in and repeating the above... also keep letting the dog in and the cat out...and by all means, keep asking for something to eat (insist there's no way you can wait until dinner).
Eventually she will call your dad and ask him about WHEN HE IS COMING HOME exactly. She will take you all out to the front yard to wait for him. But just when you think you've really got her and she'll finally go off the deep end...she'll take a few deep breaths when he gets home, go in with you all, and serve you tacos for dinner (and pound cake for dessert!). And during dinner she might actually be happy when she tells you about the accomplice she's going to give you on or around the 4th of July.
1. Go in and out the backdoor about 150 times (or more, if you can physically manage it). This time, make sure you hold the door open wide enough so that each time you let the indoor cat outside, and the outdoor dog inside. It's best if they cross paths chaotically, and you get bonus points if the dog stays in long enough to eat several of the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins your mom made this morning.
2.Make sure you reference Star Wars at every possible opportunity. Talk about it, argue about it, share with her every single piece of trivia there is to know about Star Wars. It's great if you do this during school time, too. (Such as when your mom asks you if anything sounds familiar about a representative type of government. Your face should light up, so that she thinks you're going to tell her about the United States government, the one you've been learning about since the middle of last school year - except you should say, "Oh yes! You mean like the representatives of Naboo!")
3.When she sends you to your disastrously messy room with instructions to PLEASE clean it up, go in there and stay behind your locked door for about half an hour - but don't actually pick anything up. When she finally asks you to open the door, act completely surprised and offended if she observes that nothing has actually changed. Insist, tearfully, that you DID clean up!
4.After you've played with - and left - a number of things inside the house, go out into the shed and rummage through all the interesting things out there. Take out all the gardening tools, leave the shed door wide open, then play with a fishing pole you found - make sure there's a hook on the end, and then when someone gets hurt, act like you didn't know that might be a bad idea. Do not go back and close the shed door, even if she asks you a couple times.
5.While she's out there with you, a younger sibling should get right to work tearing multiple pages out of a $40 Star Wars encyclopedia, owned by the library, of course. When you hear her reaction when she comes back in to discover this, follow her in and proceed to ask the most trivial question you can think of. Someone else can then ask repeatedly if she's going to have to pay for the book. When she finally answers that she thinks it can be repaired - but still appears to be highly annoyed about the whole situation - go on and on about how you really wished she would have to buy it, because it's such a great book. Maybe even offer some more Star Wars trivia that you learned from said book.
6.Plead for a snack (everybody should chime in). Before you're even finished eating the snack she gives you, hold up another food item and ask if you can eat that, too.
7.Ask to play the Wii when outside it is in the 70's and the skies are blue and sunny. If she says no, ask about the computer, or the TV, or ANYTHING electronic. When she says something about it being a perfectly beautiful day outside and no we are NOT going to get on anything with a screen, wait five minutes and then ask her again, as if you didn't hear what she said the first time.
Go outside some, but keep coming back in and repeating the above... also keep letting the dog in and the cat out...and by all means, keep asking for something to eat (insist there's no way you can wait until dinner).
Eventually she will call your dad and ask him about WHEN HE IS COMING HOME exactly. She will take you all out to the front yard to wait for him. But just when you think you've really got her and she'll finally go off the deep end...she'll take a few deep breaths when he gets home, go in with you all, and serve you tacos for dinner (and pound cake for dessert!). And during dinner she might actually be happy when she tells you about the accomplice she's going to give you on or around the 4th of July.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle
Have you read this book to your children? If not, put on it your list! I read it to Aimee and Drew when they were wee ones - when they were the only ones - and now it is back at the top of the circle. Incidentally, that's one of the reasons I enjoy having four children spaced the way they are. The things the older ones discovered in their early years (wait - are they past those already?), the younger ones discover anew several years later, and I am privileged to be able to share more than once the same delight and wonder over familiar and beloved books and stories.
Now, this time, I am reading Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle to all the boys, since Drew doesn't remember much of it from the first time. Aimee read it to herself as soon as I brought it home from the library, and she keeps repeating that she's exempt from this particular read-aloud for that reason - and yet, she also keeps drifting over to us and sitting in anyway. "Oh, this is a funny cure," she'll say, and end up sticking around to hear it all over again.
If you aren't at all familiar with Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, she is a charming little lady with no childen of her own, but who knows everything there is to know about children. She is understanding and sympathetic to the children, and she also knows exactly how to cure their faults, so parents call her when they don't know what to do with children's shortcomings (won't take a bath or pick up toys, etc.). One of the things I find so amusing about reading this is that my children don't see themselves at all in the characteristics of the children in the book. They would NEVER be THAT selfish, or let their rooms get THAT messy, or fight and argue with each other like THAT. I imagine, then, that they would be surprised if I called Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle for a few cures myself.
For instance, I would like to ask Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle if she had a "Put-things-off-until-the-last-minute-and-then-still-blame-your-parents-for-the-consequences" cure. (Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's cures have more succinct names, of course!) We have a world-class procrastinator in our house, who consistently fails to appreciate his/her own culpability when the natural consequences result. Sometimes I think I've got this person - that there's no way I can be blamed if math has to be done instead of reading time in the evening, because I carefully explained what was expected of that person, and the hours were whiled away doing everything else instead. I imagine that person being struck with an awareness of their own responsibility in the matter - "Ah, me! If only I hadn't squandered my time, and had diligently applied myself instead. Thank you, dear mother, for firmly but kindly demonstrating the error of my ways. I shall henceforth do my work in a timely fashion and thus allow myself uninterrupted free time in the evening, made all the more pleasant by the satisfaction of hard work and accomplishment." That never happens, so I wonder if Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle would have a creative cure.
Or might she have a "Grass-Is-Greener-On-the-Other-Side" cure? "Why do THEY get to go to Disney World, and we don't?" "Why do THEY have....?" "Why do THEY get to...", or one of my favorites, "It would be so much easier to have sisters than to have these brothers." I grew up with sisters, and I can tell you that it's just a different set of troubles (and joys,too), but my daughter doesn't believe me for a minute.
It also might be interesting to see a "Complain-about-the-unfairness-of-my-relatively-small-choreload-and-very-flexible-schedule" cure. Perhaps it might be related to the one above.
There are only school-age children in the book, but if Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle did know a thing or two about preschoolers, I might ask her if she had a "Wait-'til-Mommy-starts-reading-aloud-and-then-began-talking-very-loudly-or-making-interesting-sound-effects" cure.
Besides the extra self-discipline required on the parents' part to tackle each of these things, I imagine the biggest cure for most of them is just growing up. Of course, we aults need our own set of cures, such as the "Sometimes-forgets-they're-only-children" cure. Well, I'm reminding myself now.
And we'll go on reading together and laughing at the children who aren't a thing like ourselves.
Now, this time, I am reading Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle to all the boys, since Drew doesn't remember much of it from the first time. Aimee read it to herself as soon as I brought it home from the library, and she keeps repeating that she's exempt from this particular read-aloud for that reason - and yet, she also keeps drifting over to us and sitting in anyway. "Oh, this is a funny cure," she'll say, and end up sticking around to hear it all over again.
If you aren't at all familiar with Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, she is a charming little lady with no childen of her own, but who knows everything there is to know about children. She is understanding and sympathetic to the children, and she also knows exactly how to cure their faults, so parents call her when they don't know what to do with children's shortcomings (won't take a bath or pick up toys, etc.). One of the things I find so amusing about reading this is that my children don't see themselves at all in the characteristics of the children in the book. They would NEVER be THAT selfish, or let their rooms get THAT messy, or fight and argue with each other like THAT. I imagine, then, that they would be surprised if I called Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle for a few cures myself.
For instance, I would like to ask Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle if she had a "Put-things-off-until-the-last-minute-and-then-still-blame-your-parents-for-the-consequences" cure. (Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's cures have more succinct names, of course!) We have a world-class procrastinator in our house, who consistently fails to appreciate his/her own culpability when the natural consequences result. Sometimes I think I've got this person - that there's no way I can be blamed if math has to be done instead of reading time in the evening, because I carefully explained what was expected of that person, and the hours were whiled away doing everything else instead. I imagine that person being struck with an awareness of their own responsibility in the matter - "Ah, me! If only I hadn't squandered my time, and had diligently applied myself instead. Thank you, dear mother, for firmly but kindly demonstrating the error of my ways. I shall henceforth do my work in a timely fashion and thus allow myself uninterrupted free time in the evening, made all the more pleasant by the satisfaction of hard work and accomplishment." That never happens, so I wonder if Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle would have a creative cure.
Or might she have a "Grass-Is-Greener-On-the-Other-Side" cure? "Why do THEY get to go to Disney World, and we don't?" "Why do THEY have....?" "Why do THEY get to...", or one of my favorites, "It would be so much easier to have sisters than to have these brothers." I grew up with sisters, and I can tell you that it's just a different set of troubles (and joys,too), but my daughter doesn't believe me for a minute.
It also might be interesting to see a "Complain-about-the-unfairness-of-my-relatively-small-choreload-and-very-flexible-schedule" cure. Perhaps it might be related to the one above.
There are only school-age children in the book, but if Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle did know a thing or two about preschoolers, I might ask her if she had a "Wait-'til-Mommy-starts-reading-aloud-and-then-began-talking-very-loudly-or-making-interesting-sound-effects" cure.
Besides the extra self-discipline required on the parents' part to tackle each of these things, I imagine the biggest cure for most of them is just growing up. Of course, we aults need our own set of cures, such as the "Sometimes-forgets-they're-only-children" cure. Well, I'm reminding myself now.
And we'll go on reading together and laughing at the children who aren't a thing like ourselves.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
"When I Grow Up"
This idea was banidied about among the kids in the car on the way home from Wal-Mart just a few minutes ago.
Chase (who believes steadfastly that he already is as grown-up as he'll ever be, -verbally refusing, even, to accept that he's only two - joins in the conversation only because it's what the other kids are saying): "One day, when I grow up, I'm going to play soccer. And one day, when I grow up, I'm going to be a cowboy."
Ryan: "When I grow up, I'm going to be an astronaut and walk on Mars." "You can't do that!" Drew protests vigorously. "No one can land on Mars." They all want my opinion about whether this will be possible. I say maybe and insist we move on.
Drew: "When I grow up, I'm going to be a pilot in the Air Force." ("Or maybe be in the Army. Or the Navy. Or the Marines" - depending on what day you ask him. I think anything with guns, fast-moving machines, and a surplus of tough masculinity will do.)
Aimee: "Oh, I don't know. I think an author. And a lawyer. Is it possible to do both?" I tell her yes, that's definitely possible. Then to Drew she adds, with older sister superiority, "Speaking of being a lawyer, I'll probably have to be yours because of all the trouble you're going to get into when you grow up."
Chase (who believes steadfastly that he already is as grown-up as he'll ever be, -verbally refusing, even, to accept that he's only two - joins in the conversation only because it's what the other kids are saying): "One day, when I grow up, I'm going to play soccer. And one day, when I grow up, I'm going to be a cowboy."
Ryan: "When I grow up, I'm going to be an astronaut and walk on Mars." "You can't do that!" Drew protests vigorously. "No one can land on Mars." They all want my opinion about whether this will be possible. I say maybe and insist we move on.
Drew: "When I grow up, I'm going to be a pilot in the Air Force." ("Or maybe be in the Army. Or the Navy. Or the Marines" - depending on what day you ask him. I think anything with guns, fast-moving machines, and a surplus of tough masculinity will do.)
Aimee: "Oh, I don't know. I think an author. And a lawyer. Is it possible to do both?" I tell her yes, that's definitely possible. Then to Drew she adds, with older sister superiority, "Speaking of being a lawyer, I'll probably have to be yours because of all the trouble you're going to get into when you grow up."
Monday, October 19, 2009
Things to Give Away...And Things to Keep to Yourself
A Few Things You Should Pass on to Other Mothers:
1.Your favorite recipes
2.Great deals at local stores
3.Homeschooling ideas (if you homeschool, of course)
4. Funny anecdotes about your kids
5. General support, a listening ear, a meal if needed, etc. etc.
Things You Should NOT Pass on to Other Mothers:
1. Unsolicited advice
2. Your family's stomach bug
Both of these you should keep AT HOME, especially the second one, because the effects last much longer. I can politely reject your advice, but there's nothing I can do with the blessing of a stomach bug - except, that is, alot of a laundry. It will also deprive me of sleep and will trap me in my home with sick and probably cranky children for at least a week. I can think of so many things I would rather endure than a stomach bug, so please, please, PLEASE...keep this one to yourself.
I should add, for one friend's sake - you know who you are! - that if I know the risks of helping you out during a stomach bug "epidemic" and accept them anyway, I don't hold you responsible if we happen to get it. ;-)
It's the surprise germ attack of which I currently moan and groan. *sigh*
1.Your favorite recipes
2.Great deals at local stores
3.Homeschooling ideas (if you homeschool, of course)
4. Funny anecdotes about your kids
5. General support, a listening ear, a meal if needed, etc. etc.
Things You Should NOT Pass on to Other Mothers:
1. Unsolicited advice
2. Your family's stomach bug
Both of these you should keep AT HOME, especially the second one, because the effects last much longer. I can politely reject your advice, but there's nothing I can do with the blessing of a stomach bug - except, that is, alot of a laundry. It will also deprive me of sleep and will trap me in my home with sick and probably cranky children for at least a week. I can think of so many things I would rather endure than a stomach bug, so please, please, PLEASE...keep this one to yourself.
I should add, for one friend's sake - you know who you are! - that if I know the risks of helping you out during a stomach bug "epidemic" and accept them anyway, I don't hold you responsible if we happen to get it. ;-)
It's the surprise germ attack of which I currently moan and groan. *sigh*
Friday, October 16, 2009
First Language Lessons
I just noticed that Hannah wrote her own review of First Language Lessons, and she is probably quite right! As I commented on her post, we take what we need from FLL and leave the rest, because it can be quite repetitive. I just assume it's like any other teacher's manual, directed toward the lowest common demoninator,and by that I just mean it is written as if the teacher doesn't know a thing about grammar or how to teach it. Knowing something about grammar, and knowing that my kids pick up definitions without having to repeat them 3 times...and 3 more times...oh, and let's say that together 3 times AGAIN, I use the book as a "spine" and do not read the dialogue straight from it.
We also play games at dinnertime (not to be outdone!) like choosing a letter and then assigning parts of speech to each member of the family. We all think of an appropriate word starting with that letter, then put them together in a silly sentence. There are also fun books like, "If You Were a Verb," the author of which I can't remember but will post later if I do, that we have used at times.
We also play games at dinnertime (not to be outdone!) like choosing a letter and then assigning parts of speech to each member of the family. We all think of an appropriate word starting with that letter, then put them together in a silly sentence. There are also fun books like, "If You Were a Verb," the author of which I can't remember but will post later if I do, that we have used at times.
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