Overheard at the orthodontist

I knew it.  I knew it because I worked at this particular orthodontic office for eight years before securing my current gig, and I know how he operates.* “Let me just dry that tooth off a little with my piece of gauze…”

Boy #1 had a slightly loose tooth.  Loose enough to see when you gave it a wiggle, but not loose enough to be pulled out.  At least not pulled out by me. Or by the boy for that matter.  The adult tooth started to erupt behind the baby tooth (not a good thing…especially in the eyes of an orthodontist) and I knew that once my boy sat in that chair, the gauze was going to come out.

Well, the gauze came out and so did the tooth!  The look on my boy’s face broke my heart.  I knew it hurt.  I could hear the “ripping” sound and the flushed cheeks and watery eyes on my guy confirmed to me what I already knew.

When all was said and done, I walked my boy to the rest room where he could get a rinse of water and a clean paper towel.  While he leaned over the sink this is what was discussed:

ME:  “Hey, buddy.  Here is a clean towel.  Just wipe your chin off and get another rinse of water.

BOY #1  (Silent)

ME:  “I know that must have really hurt.”

BOY #1 “Yeah…It hurt like hell.”

ME: (Silent)

ME: “What did you just say?  (I knew what I heard…I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing out loud.)

BOY #1 “Sorry, Mom.  Heck was not going to cut it.  It just slipped.”

Well, then I did laugh out loud…all the way out to the car.  My boy was worried that he was in trouble.  If you knew my boy, you would know that this incident is very out of character for him, which makes it all the more hysterical!  And you know, he is right.  Sometimes ‘heck’ just will not cut it!

*Dr. John is not a barbaric caveman.  The tooth really did need to come out.  He is really a wonderful, caring, gentle orthodontist.  He just doesn’t like loose teeth!

I GOT IT!

The Wii Fit that is!  After Santa so graciously delivered a Wii system for us, I have been on the hunt for a Wii Fit.  As anyone that has a Wii Fit knows, they are not easy to come by.  As in, impossible to come by!   I think I am the kind of person that when they want something, the want becomes more and more debilitating the harder it is to get.  And the Wii Fit was HARD to get!

Since Christmas, I have made daily trips or phone calls to Target, K-Mart and Wal-Mart in search of my hearts desire.  I had all of my friends looking for me as well.  Last weekend, Mr. and Mrs. Tennessee told me to go to Best Buy.  Mr. Tennessee said he was at Best Buy, and there they were.  Right on the shelf for all to purchase.  The next day, I called Best Buy.  Gone.  They were all gone!  It seems like I have been a day late every single time there have been Wii Fit sightings.  Just my luck.

Earlier in January, I was at Target and made friends with a young lad that worked in the electronics department.  He explained to me the whole  dynamic of the Wii Fit, when the trucks come in, how they never know how many they will get, etc.  My young electronic guru then leaned over and whispered to me to come back on January 18th.  Oh, it was top secret alright.  I felt like I was privy to some inside information and waited patiently for the 18th to roll around.  It did and I went.  To Target, that is.  I very briskly walked to the electronics department and looked for my friend.  My heart was broken when not only did I not find my friend working, I also did not find the Wii Fit.  I settled on the worker du jour and very patiently waited my turn.  At this point, it is about 10:30 AM.   I asked him where the Wii Fit’s were.  After all, it was Sunday and they were in the ad that morning.  He looked at his watch and announced that they had 30 Wii Fits at the opening bell at 8AM.  And by 9AM they had sold 30 Wii Fits.   What the hell?  Seriously, there are that many people that not only want a Wii Fit, but are up and out shopping at 8AM on a Sunday morning?  Uughghhh.  My quest continued.

Well, my luck changed yesterday.  As I was on my way to physical therapy, I stopped at Target.  Again.  I walked out empty handed.  Then, after physical therapy, as I pulled out of the parking lot, the Best Buy sign beckoned me…what the heck, I thought.  I may as well stop in and maybe make a friend in the gamers department and see if I can get any info on their truck deliveries. 

I walked over and scanned the shelves.  A bright light started to shine and I heard angels singing in the back round!  There it was!  My Wii Fit!  Right on the shelf!  I very quickly grabbed it for fear that one of the other three customers that were in the store at the time might try to wrestle me for it.  I held on tight as I could and made my way to the checkout.  I was giddy and I made sure that the checkout girl knew it.  She was about 22 years old and could care less about me and my determination to obtain a Wii Fit.  She just smiled at me and I swear she was thinking, “freak.”

Off I went with my new Wii Fit.  I happily called Mr. T at work and as soon as he answered, I said, “Guess what I got today!”  He replied, “A Wii Fit?”

Yup, that is right, buddy!  My own Wii Fit!  Yippeee!  I am so excited!  I did have one problem, though.  I had to wait for my 9 year old to get home from school so he could teach me how to hook it up!  He was excited too, until he found out that he could not use it until I got to try it out.  Hey, ladies first!

So, my new friend is hooked up and and ready for me to start my exercising routine.  I think it is broken because when I stepped on and it did my fitness assessment, I hear the little alien voice say, “Ooohhhhh…..” and it rated me as “obese.”   Hmmpph.   Stupid Wii Fit.

Good music, good food and Pearl the lunch lady!

My kids love food.  All food.  Junk food, good-for-you food, meat, vegetables, salads…the list goes on.  There is not much they will not eat, except boy #1 will not eat cheese and boy #2 will not eat chili, beef stew or mushrooms.  Boy #1 is much more adventurous with trying new things, and he often finds things that he really likes.  Some friends of ours once took boy #1 away with them for the weekend and when they returned home,  they were excited to tell me that they went out for Japanese food, and my boy tried sushi.  And he liked it.  And he asked for more.  Don’t know where he gets that love from, because I consider sushi “bait.”  Cannot think of anything more disgusting.

So last Friday night, I had to work a little late and by the time I got home, it was about 6 PM.  Not in the mood to cook, not in the mood for a frozen pizza.   My boy’s must have been plotting because when I walked in the door, they announced that it might be a good idea to go to Ron’s Place.  I welcomed the idea, as Ron’s Place is a local “Pub” with some of the best burgers I have ever had, not to mention the plethora of Long Island Ice Tea selections.  They serve the teas in the large mason jar style mugs, so one is usually more than enough.   I ordered the Hawaiian Punch, which I probably would not order again.  It had pineapple juice, cherry juice and Malibu rum added to the traditional tea mixture.   Think Rum Punch-y crossed with Alabama Slammer.  Sweet.  Like sugar coating your tongue sweet. 

My boy’s ordered a root beer (they serve it in frosted mugs…they think they are all that when they are swilling the “beer” from a manly, frosted mug!) and Mr. T. ordered a Hacker Pschoor.  We sat at the table and started having a conversation about school.  We talked about teachers, which classes they like the best, which teacher was fun, boring, funny.  I asked boy #1 who he thought was the best teacher he has this year. 

After chatting for awhile about that, this disussion took place:

ME:  “So, you really like Mrs. M., (Social Studies teacher) huh?”

Boy #1 “Yeah, but Social Studies is getting a little boring.  You know who I really like a lot?”

Me:  “Who?” ( I am expecting him to say his band teacher, or his gym teacher…)

Boy #1:  “Pearl.  One of the lunch ladies.  She is my friend.  She wears a hair net and has really thick glasses.  Glasses that make her eyes look really, really big.  Every day,  I walk into the lunch room and say, ‘Hey “Pearly”…what’s for lunch today!”

At that, Mr. T and I start busting a gut, laughing!  We could not help but think of the hilarious SNL skit with Chris Farley (comic genius) and Adam Sandler.  As soon as we got home from stuffing ourselves with burgers, we found the skit online and showed the boys. You can check it out here: http://www.cylive.com/content/8185/Lunch_Lady_SNL_Skit_with_Chris_Farley_and_Adam_Sandler

I am a happy Mom that my boy has found a friend in Pearl!  Sometimes he gets a little extra food from her.  He told us that in the lunch room, he is commonly known as “The Vulture.”   Like I said, there is not much that boy will not eat, not even in “Lunch Lady Land!”

While we were enjoying our night, my two boy’s went to play the juke box.  The selections of the evening were Bob Marley, Buffalo Soldier and also by Bob Marley Three Little Birds.  Boy #1 is really loving the reggae. And the night would not be complete for our family if Boy #2 did not have the opportunity to play Johnny Cash, A Boy Named Sue.  He loves that song!

Another musical surprise for us is when we got home, boy #1 went to the computer and downloaded some songs on his ipod.  He was the happy recipient of a few itunes gift cards for his birthday and was eager to put them to use.  Wouldn’t you think that a boy of twelve would be downloading Chris Brown or maybe Chris Daughtry?  Nope.  Not even close.  His choices were Count Basie, Miles Davis and  John Coltrane.  I was impressed.  Impressed because when he started asking me about Jazz musicians, I couldn’t name one.  Not one.  I am happy to say that my boy is more cultured than I or his Dad.  I can say that about Mr. T because I am going to download songs on his ipod today and Poison and The Bullet Boys are on his list.  Yes, the Bullet Boys.  Mullet music all the way!  There is a reason that one does not hear anything of late from The Bullet Boys.  They stink.  But Mr. T. seems to have an affinity of bad 80’s hair band music.  One of his many charms!   So, needless to say, when I need to borrow an ipod (I say borrow, because I am the only person on the face of the earth that does not have an ipod of my own!) I will be borrowing from the boy!  You never know, I may learn something!

Cool….but not that cool.

I think I just got schooled.  By a twelve year old no less. 

Both of the boys had basketball practice tonight, so I was on the hook to car pool one of them.  I took boy #1 as his practice was held at the fitness facility that we are members of and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and get a little work out in myself.  Because I wanted to walk on the track, I thought I would give an ipod a try.   Now, it would not be MY ipod, but a borrowed one from my boy.  My husband has an ipod, both of my kids have ipods, I have …no ipod.  I guess it is true when people say that Mom’s always come last!

So, my boy was more than willing to lend me his tunes for the night.  He expressed his concern over me not liking his music.  I assured him that I would manage just fine.  After all, I know there is some great songs on his ipod, because I am the one that downloaded them for the boy.  I told him when he got the ipod that if I am the one downloading, then he gets some good music whether he likes it or not.  A lot of my choices are now in his top 25, so he is learning!

Anyway, when he hands me his ipod, I ask him to remove his very cool, very green and very large Skull Candy head phones.   Not because I don’t like them, I just did not think I could “pull them off.” 

My boy happily handed over the ipod with the standard, Apple issued white head phones.  I was on my merry, musical way.  Except for one thing.  Once I was on the track, I could not figure out how to turn it on.  One strike against my coolness factor.  Then, while walking, I could not get the headphones to stay in my ears and I felt like I was constantly adjusting them.  At one point, one of the ear buds fell out. 

I finished up my two mile walk and went back downstairs to pick up my boy.  He eagerly asked me how I liked his songs.  We chatted awhile about what I listened to (the Goo Goo Dolls, the Beatles and even a little Eminem) and then it happened.

I told my boy about the ear phones and how they would not stay put and I felt like I had to constantly adjust them.   He agreed with me.  He proceeded to tell me that what was so awesome about Skull Candy is that they not only block out all outside noise, but they cover your whole ear and are very comfortable.  And very cool, you know…if you are already cool.

“Hey”, I say.  “Maybe I will try the Skull Candy next time.”

My boy looks at me, smiles his gorgeous smile and says, “Ummm….I don’t think so Mom.”  “You are not quite Skull Candy material.  And besides, I think your head might be too big, like a basketball.”

Hmmph.

One of the BEST days of my life!

January 19th.  The day my oldest boy was born.  Today Jordan turns 12 years old.  As all parents know first hand, the time FLIES!  It seems like a short time ago that I found out I was pregnant.

Most people dream of becoming doctors, teachers, lawyers.  Not me.  Since I was very young, the one thing I have always wanted was to be a Mom.  And not just a Mom, but a Mommy to a little boy named Jordan.  I guess you can say that my dream has come true!  I tell that to Jordan all of the time.  He is the one that made me a Mom.  You see, becoming a Mom was not that easy for me.

A year after being married, I found out I was pregnant.  I was ecstatic!  My husband was a little shocked, but he got used to the idea!  I was a crazy lady!  I read every morsel of information I could get my hands on.  I wanted to make sure I did everything right.  I ate properly, rested enough and did everything that my doctor and all of the books told me to do!  At 12 weeks, just when everyone thinks they are out of the woods, I started spotting and cramping.  Not wanting to believe anything was wrong, I searched every book I could get my hands on looking for a possible, simple reason as to why I was bleeding.  There was not a simple answer.  I was having a miscarriage.  Everything in my world came crashing down.  I thought I was going to die.  I felt like nobody understood what I was going through.  I searched my mind for something, anything that I could have possibly done to make this happen.  After my doctor sent me for an ultrasound, she asked me to come right back to her office.  My husband and I sat in her waiting room as I sobbed.  A teenage mother came out  of the office, very pregnant and ready to deliver her baby.  She was making arrangements with the receptionist to head over to the hospital.  She was in labor.  It was like someone had made my misery even worse.  How could she be having a baby and I am losing mine?  Life is not fair. 

My doctor confirmed what I was trying desperately to be blind to.  I was beyond devastated.  I went home and cried for what seemed like a month.  Everyone, and I mean everyone tried to comfort me by telling me that “everything happens for a reason”, “at least you know you can get pregnant”, and the most heart wrenching, “it will happen again, just be patient!”

As hard as it was, I started to accept that, even to someone that wants a baby more than anything else in the world,  miscarriages happen.  Actually, they happen in approximately 25% of pregnancies.  Not that it made me feel better, but it made me feel that I was not alone.

After two long years, I finally was pregnant again.  It was like someone told me that I had just won the lottery.  I was breathless.  I remember coming home from the doctor and sitting alone in my living room and just giggling!  Not a single thing could make me stop smiling.  I could not wait for Mr. T. to get home from work.  I went and bought pink and blue balloons and was waiting at the door for him when he came home from work!  We were thrilled and shared the news with everyone. 

The early part of my pregnancy with Jordan went fairly smooth.  Again, I followed all of the rules and did everything as I was supposed to.  My due date was February 20th and we thought a Valentine’s baby would have been sweet!

I look back at Christmas pictures from that year, and wow, I looked like hell!  Of course, nobody told me I looked like hell.  That is probably not something a pregnant woman would ever want to hear, but I noticed it in pictures right away.

January rolled around and my doctor didn’t like the way my blood pressure read.  It was elevated.  She told me to lay on my left side, stay away from all processed food and limit my sodium.  I did just that, but each visit, my blood pressure was even more elevated.  Finally, the last straw.  At my routine doctor visit,  I was told I needed to be on limited bed rest.  I could do some things, but needed to stop working and just take it easy.  That was on Thursday, January 16th 1997. 

I laid around most of the day and just did not feel right.  I had a lot of pain in my upper right abdomen.  I thought it was normal to feel the way I felt.  I thought all pregnant women felt like that.  I was pretty miserable, but chalked it up to being pregnant, and I was not about to complain!  After all, this was exactly what I wanted!

That night, we went to Milwaukee to visit my brother in law in the hospital.  He was awaiting a heart transplant and was on his 5th month of waiting!  We tried to make it up there at least twice a week to share dinner with him and just hang out and visit.   He looked forward to our visits just as much as we did!  Each time we went, I would pack a picnic basket for dinner.

I could not eat (very unusual for me!) and I rapidly became quite ill.  I told Mr. T. that we needed to leave.  Something was wrong and I was not sure what it was, but I felt terrible.

We made it to the car and about half way home from Milwaukee, things changed, and not for the better.  I was slightly crying, what little energy I had and pleaded with Mr. T to drive faster.  I felt myself sort of dozing off and I was unable to hold my head up.  Mr. T was driving very fast and at some point, even started driving on the shoulder of the highway, due to me crying, “get me to the hospital, fast.”

Now, you would think that two intelligent adults would have stayed right where we were. After all, we were at a hospital!  But obviously, we were not thinking clearly.  I felt I needed to get to my doctor!

We drove immediatelyto our hospital and into the emergency entrance.  Mr. T. told them the information that they needed and they wheeled me up to the OB floor.  All of the nurses were telling me I was definitely not in labor.  After all, I was not due for another month.  I was kind of treated like a cry baby and they made me feel like I was a wimp. 

The nurses put me in a room and brought me some water and told me I was probably de-hydrated.  Well, that was when everything started to change…

The chatty nurse that brought me the water took my blood pressure.  Suddenly, she ran towards the door, turned off all of the lights and moved my bed into a flat position. She called for more staff to come and the doctor on call was paged.  I suddenly had a room full of people, telling me to lay still, close my eyes and keep very quiet.  My blood pressure was at a very dangerous level.  My doctor was called and her exact words were, “there is nothing we can do for you here.  We have called an ambulance and they are going to transport you to Milwaukee immediately. (Yes, your correct.  4 hours earlier, we were in Milwaukee…at a hospital!)  One of the nurses, the one that brought me the water, was visibly upset and insisted on riding in the ambulance with me.  I did not care.  As long as someone was going to make me feel better, I was OK with a passenger!

My husband was told to follow behind in our car, which he did.  When we arrived at the hospital, the news was not good.  I had severe pre-eclamsia.  My bed was immediately padded in case I had a seizure (Eclamsia) and my husband was told that he should call my parents immediately.  He was also told that if we had a family priest or other clergy person, that he should be called as well.  That scared us, and that was when my normally quiet, easy going spouse started asking questions.  Why are we  here?  Why do you want me to call our pastor?  What is going on?

We were told of my condition in plain and simple terms.  I had severe pre-eclamsia.  The only cure for it is delivering the baby.  Pre-eclamsia leads to Eclamsia which leads to seizure, brain damage and sometimes death for the mother, the baby or both.  I was told that the baby needed to be delivered as quickly as possible.  The risks were high.  I could not have a C section as I would have bled to death due to my blood pressure.  I needed to be induced and deliver naturally.  The problem with that was I was not due for another month. 

My blood pressure cuff was fastened to my arm and automatically pumped every 15 minutes for days.  My blood was drawn every four hours.  My liver was swollen (which was why I had the upper abdominal pain), my kidneys were shutting down and my brain was starting to swell.  My room was kept dark and quiet and I was only allowed one person in my room at a time.  I had lost some of my vision and had headaches.  We were told that we should not have a lot of expectations for our baby.  I was extremely sick and he might not make it, but they were going to try everything possible. 

I will never forget those words for the rest of my life.

“Don’t have a lot of expectations for your baby.  We need to prepare you.  If he survives, he may not be able to breath on his own nor will he be able to suck, so he will need a feeding tube.”

My family was there the whole time and tried to keep a smile on their faces for my sake.  I laid there for almost three days not knowing if my baby would survive.  Finally, on Sunday, things progressed.  The doctor continually turned up my Pitocin and then broke my water.

Finally at 10:31 PM, my angel was born.  I heard a faint cry and a flood of relief came over us.  They whisked him away to the neo-natal intensive care unit.  I wanted to see my baby and hold him, but for his safety he needed to be in the NIC-U.  Finally it was over.  The specialist that was evaluating Jordan came to me about 12 hours after his birth.  I was still in intensive care and not able to move.  He told me that my preemie baby was doing great!  He is breathing on his own, and drinking like a champ!  Again, words I will never forget: “Your little guy is doing really well.  We are moving him to the regular nursery, with the big kids!”

The big kids!  He is doing it!  That is my boy!  After another 24 hours of me on my medication for the pre-eclamsia I was moved out of intensive care.  I was free to eat and drink (no food or liquids for me for three days!) and best of all, I could call the nursery and have them bring me my baby.  I could not wait to see him, to hold him close, to smell him and kiss him.  I wanted to thank him for making it, for making me a mom and making this the best day of my life.  As the nurse handed him to me, I sat and cried.  When she came back into my room, she quickly rushed to me and asked what was wrong.  “Nothing at all.  I am just so happy right at this moment!”

We stayed in the hospital for another week.  I remember coming home from the hospital like it was yesterday.  It was obviously winter and the snow was falling.  I bundled my baby up in several layers, being the nervous mom that I was!  I was a nervous wreck the entire hour long drive and sat in the backseat with my arm around my tiny little 5 lb bundle’s car seat, instructing Mr. T the entire way to drive slow and to watch where he was going!  When we arrived home, my Mom had done laundry, unloaded newborn diapers and made the crib.  I had my baby shower the weekend before I became ill and nothing was unpacked or washed!  I had not a onesie ready.   That was OK with me.  I was not about to lay him down in the crib or anywhere else for that matter!  I had some missed time to make up for and that little guy was going to stay right in my arms!

Now here it is, twelve years later.  When I think about that day, I cannot help but swallow hard and choke back a tear.  Things could have turned out so differently that day.  But here I am,  the mother of an incredible young man.   My dream came true.  I thank God everyday for him.  Jordan is so kind, so loving and so, well, just good.  I am blessed to be his mother.  He is smart, thoughtful, handsome.  He has a warm heart and treats other people with respect and kindness.  He is a lot like his Dad.  A good man.  They are hard to come by these days!  How did I get to be the wife and mother to two of them?

My beautiful Jordan,

I know you are rolling your eyes as you read this post and saying, “mo-om…don’t embarrass me!”  But I want you to always know how much you mean to me.  There is not another person on this earth that has made me who I am….a Mom.  Remember  how I always tell you about when I was a young girl and dreamed about having a little boy named Jordan?  Well, look at us today!  My dream came true.  I am so proud of you and the person you are growing up to be.  When I say that I feel lucky to be your Mom, I really mean that.  You are one of the three loves of my life.  You are the one that made us a family, and I could not be more proud of you.  I love you so much~Thank you for being who you are.  Happy 12th Birthday, Jordan!

I love you,

Mom

Long time, no blog!

I am feeling very neglectful of my blog.  My Dad even posted a comment about not seeing any recent posts. Eh,  I guess I have writers block or my life is just not as interesting as I think.   Each time I sit down to write, I end up deleting everything and walking away from the computer.  I think I have a case of the winter blues.  The holidays are now over and the ornaments put away.  Tree is gone, candles packed up and all of the gifts put in their place (with the exception of the Wii….that da*n Santa brought a new Wii to our home, even though he was instructed to not bring anymore video games!)  The Wii will have a place in our living room from now on.  After all, Mr. T practices his bowling game almost every day!  

 It was our first Christmas that we stayed home for the day.  We usually go to my parents house but now that they have moved away (sniff, sniff) we stayed in our PJ’s until about 2 PM and competed in Wii bowling and tennis.  We also got Rock  Band for the Wii from Chuck, Ann and the kids!   I will say although I am a music lover, I really stink at the drums!  My children, after laughing outloud and pointing at me, have told me that I look like Animal from the Muppets.  I don’t think that is a good thing!  But whatever…

After taking trumpet lessons for over a year, Boy #1 has decided that he wants to switch to the trombone.  What??  He told us that when he first was able to pick an instrument in 5th grade, he really wanted to choose the trombone, but at the time, his two best friends were definitely choosing the trumpet.  Being a little more of a follower rather than a leader, my boy followed suit.  He felt that by choosing the same exact instrument, he would have a good shot at being with his best friends for lessons.  Well, he was not so lucky and was split up from them, which ended up being OK.  He really does enjoy band.  He has a very cool band teacher.  Young, hip, spiky hair, cool clothes and the best part according to the boy, the teach loves video games and he has a great sense of humor!   If that is what it takes for him to love music, then so be it!  Anyway, just before Christmas, my boy started talking about wanting to give up the trumpet and switch to the trombone.   He emphasized to us that the trombone was really his first choice anyway.  The boy talked to the band teacher, and he gave him his blessing.  I am told that “you can never have enought low brass…”  so we gave him our blessing as well.  I would not ever want to jeopordize his love of band, so the switch was made.  Now, it has only been about a month or so of learning a whole new instrument, but he loves it!  The best part?  We never have to remind him to practice.  He just does it all on his own!  And the very cool band teacher with spiky hair and cool clothes and a love of video games called us last night to set up some private lessons and he told us that the boy is doing so well, he should be a shoe in for the jazz band soon!  That is great news, because that has been his goal all along!

Right after my 40th birthday, I came home to find a package on my doorstep.  I quickly opened it to find a gift for all of us, even Dewey from my “Aunt” Kristin all the way from Minneapolis.  Kind of weird to call her my “aunt” when she is quite a bit younger then me, but she is married to my uncle, so…well, that is how my kids put it to me anyway.   So anyway, inside this box were these incredibly cute and delicious personalized cookies!  They were almost too cute to eat, but some how we managed!  Take a look at these and tell me these gorgeous, fondant covered morsels would not make your day…

 

 

 

 

Aren’t they divine?  And do you want to know why she had these little delights sent to us?  Just because.  Isn’t that the nicest thing ever?  Aunt Kristin, you made our day!  And our week for that matter!  Thanks again. You are the best Aunt, ever!