The Vote is In...

In a family of many boys, of course, one of the first things on our minds when we first found out about this baby was, what will it be? Will Elliana get a sister to help navigate the male hormones or will she just be our little princess and one and only girl? We weren't sure how it would all play out but we did know this:

God has planned our family the way it is. It's not an accident that He's given us three boys and one girl. He knows what is best and is totally sovereign.

So knowing that, we forged ahead and truthfully felt we'd be thankful either way.

Yet I won't lie and say that I didn't want a sister for Elliana. I never had one and really wanted to give her one. This very well may be our last baby so, I did hope she would get one. But then one day, my mom mentioned to me that Joshua might really be blessed by having a little brother since he can sometimes be the third wheel (which we're always trying to fight). And after that bit of insight, my heart really settled about having another boy too.

Soon after that, I went in for an end of the 1st trimester ultrasound and I ended up being a bit further along than I originally thought. I was actually just shy of 15 weeks rather than the slightly over 13 weeks that I thought I was. At this appointment, since I was a bit further, the ultrasound tech took a peek at the gender and there, plain as day, I could even see for myself that this little baby looked like another boy. She of course told me that it needed to be confirmed at 20 weeks but after that, I just knew it was a boy. I never thought for a second that she might be wrong. And I had peace about it. Not in a fake, Christianese sort of way, but in a real way.

I just kept thinking, "God has given us this. It's His plan for us. And for some reason, He wants us to have a lot boys." Plain and simple.

Now, I must admit that now that I have one girl, it was a bit easier for me to take this in stride. And when I thought about it, I was really super thankful that I got one daughter! One out of five-phew!!

So the vote is in...today's ultrasound confirmed it for sure. This Dauphin family will be welcoming another little boy come mid August.

God Has Given and we're rejoicing!!

Our Mad Scientist

When Caleb was a baby, he was quite difficult. In fact, so far, he was my most difficult. He cried all the time and would not take a nap-pretty much ever. I thought I might go crazy with him!! One thing that always soothed him though was my presence. If he was handed to his grandma, he'd scream. If he was handed to a neighbor, he'd scream. If he was handed to his Dad, he'd scream. Pretty much anyone but me would not do.

Even during the first two years of his life he definitely preferred me. And it was during this time that both Steve and I knew that Steve needed to start reaching for him. We both agreed that it was important for him to identify the most with his Dad and so it was essential that we see some movement in that direction. Steve started making a concerted effort to win him around that age.

It took time. Lots of it. But I will never forget the first time that he chose his Dad over me when he was in major peril. He was almost four and he had a pretty bad case of croup. In fact, we had been up many nights in a row with him. Each night Steve would wrap him up in a blanket and take him out into the midnight air to help open up his lungs. He'd talk quietly to him to try and calm him down.

Caleb is a fighter so, he would fight and fight his inability to breathe which only made it worse. After awhile, Steve could get him to calm down. One night, after many nights up with him, I tried to take him in my arms to comfort him and he yelled through tears with the little air that he had, "No! Daddy!" No joke, tears streamed down my face for I had been waiting for years for this moment. I knew he had been warming up to his Daddy but that event totally confirmed it. After that, it was clear, he was Steve's little man and wanted to follow in his footsteps just like Isaac. The transformation had happened just like we hoped and prayed it would.

As he's gotten a bit older, his love for his Dad has become more and more apparent. He's become interested in what his Dad is good at and his curiosity about the world and how it works has really come out. He asks some tough questions and they're almost all physics/math related. Recently, he wanted to know if anything heavy could float in the water. I thought about it for a quick sec and said, "No, but let's ask Dad." As soon as he walked in the other room (and I had a moment to think it through), I realized I'd answered him wrong for surely heavy things can float-boats!! To put it simply, it's about water displacement, the volume of the object and its density. Steve answered him correctly and told him why. To which I replied, "I did graduate from Cal Poly...I just had to think about it for a sec...!" Ha ha!

He was so curious about it that I decided to do a little experiment with him the next day that actually went over two days. We filled up the bath tub and tried to float some different objects in it. Some floated and some didn't. We then got to talk about why. Then we got one of the objects that did float (one of their dinner plates) and we determined to find out how many coins it could hold before sinking to the bottom. Caleb absolutely loved this. And he was so smart about it. He evenly distributed the coins so that one side wouldn't be heavier than the other.

The next day, we used a couple of different objects, a big ceramic dinner plate, a little kid dinner plate and an old yogurt container, and we guessed which one would hold the most coins before sinking. Of course, the old yogurt container won, although it was the most tippy of them all. It was truly a blast to do these experiments with my son who really is so much like his Daddy. When I told Steve about our little experiments, he just grinned from ear to ear.

Recently, when I was telling Caleb that he only liked me as a baby, he looked at me with a crooked smile. Then he said, "Yeah. I loved you a lot then Mom. And I love you a lot now too. But I do love Dad the most!"

With him, I don't fear when I hear those comments (really with any of my boys I am not sad about this-I want this for them). I don't get sad because I know the road it took to get there. And now, seeing how interested he is in how the world works just makes me so excited for his growing relationship with his Dad. Because Steve can teach him how things go together. He can challenge him in ways that I never could.

He's keeping me on my toes that little Mad Scientist. His question yesterday was, "Mom, what causes the waves in the ocean?" I looked at him and said, "Well, there are lots of reasons like currents, weather, etc..." Then he said, "Maybe we could do a little experiment." (I'm sure we will and it'll make a royal mess in the bathroom.) Or, we could do the easy thing and you know, just ask Dad. He's the original Mad Scientist in this house.

Free

"But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you....If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. Luke 6:27-28, 32

I've been thinking about the prodigal son lately but not because I really identify with him. In fact, often my sympathy for the wayward can be quickly extinguished by my own feelings about their transgressions. I've always been a rule follower, not perfect, but striving after it and so my sense of justice is high. I want things to be right. I want good to win. I want hard work to pay off. And in my own pompous mind, I error on the side of doing what is right even when it hurts.

No, I'm not the prodigal. I am the older brother.

And I often find myself quite confused at the grace extended by the father. He was mocked. He was cheated and he was used. But, when the prodigal comes home broken from his mistakes and full of regret, he doesn't chastise him. No instead, he has a feast in his honor! He kills the fattened calf and he restores his son to his rightful place in the family immediately erasing all that he did wrong.

Unbelievable. Inconceivable. Totally contrary to how I think and how I am built. Doesn't God say that a man will reap what he sows? Why does this beloved parable, spoken by Jesus, exonerate so much grace? Where is responsibility? Where is honor? Where is integrity? Aren't these things important at all? Doesn't God call us to have these attributes? Doesn't he tell us to stick to the straight and narrow?

And as soon as my mind begins to go there in the story, the older brother steps in and does it for me. "Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.' But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, 'Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!" Luke 15:25-30

Typical reaction for people like me. I've been faithful and I've done it quietly. I've worked hard and had integrity. I haven't cheated to get ahead or stepped on others to get what I want. I've been diligent and I haven't asked much. Why so much celebration for those who have been foolish? Why the bailout? Shouldn't they pay for their bad decisions? While, all the while I've been quietly doing what I was supposed to. Why am I not recognized for doing the right thing all this time? Where is my celebration?? Where is the acknowledgement and love that I'm looking for? Like the older brother, I'm looking for the father's blessing too.

In the midst of such turbulence in my soul, I find myself not only wrestling with feelings of injustice but also intense feelings of superiority. I've been better. They don't deserve that. I've worked hard, etc...and before I know it, this "older brother" has turned into quite the self righteous little brat that the Bible warns me about over and over again.

In fact, my self righteousness is often worse than the prodigal's sins because the prodigal at least acknowledges his wrong. My self righteousness can often blind me from my own sin.

In the end, I may be right about my conclusions but, I am not right about my reactions. And to be honest, God doesn't care nearly as much about the conclusions I've drawn about other people's mistakes. He simply cares about my heart. And when it is in that place, it is not pretty.

There have been people in my life that have been difficult for me. So in typical older brother fashion, I do what's right. I serve them. I love them. I go out of my way to win them. And when they continue to step on me, I get even madder! Don't they understand that I'm doing as God has asked? I've been faithful; why do I continue to get dropped? Why am I not respected? What is wrong with them?

And as this spiral of emotions descends upon my heart, God gently begins to shake me up as my temperature rises with every incident showing me that even though I'm physically doing as He asked, that He never promises that all will be well. He just wants my heart to be right no matter what is going on around me. And he wants the self righteousness that so easily tangles me to be chiseled out of me.

He cares about me. And He wants my heart to be right.

In fact, God says that I will get mistreated by my enemies even when I'm doing the right thing.
"But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for He is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." Luke 6:35-36

These words are hard for me. Not at first, but over time and continual rejection, they get harder and harder and harder. But God Himself is kind to the ungrateful. And I, myself, have been forgiven of many things. Why can't I overlook these offenses and keep persevering?

This is probably the most difficult aspect of my faith that I've ever encountered and one that God has been working me over in for years. "Extend grace, Nikki and do it over and over and over again even to the same people. Not just fifteen times. Do it forever. Let me deal with others. Your job is to learn grace, for this is what you lack."

Sometimes I see it in how I treat my children. I'm much more rigid at times than I need to be and I have to learn to lean into grace. I must be consistent. I must be wise in how I seek it, but I must learn grace's soft side. And I must learn to love it. For God, who is holy, powerful and just, often shows grace. It was God's grace in the first place that saved me. I can't forget that. For it is the very foundation of my faith.

I may struggle in this area until the day I die. I may fight it and wrestle with it and continually ask God why it works this way. But I will continue to try. I won't give up. Because deep down I know, even though I don't always get it, that it is God's way.

And if it is God's way, then that's where I want to be, me, my stubborn heart and all. For when I am doing what God has for me, I don't have to worry about anyone else.

I'm free.

"And he said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, is alive; he was lost, and is found.' " Luke 15:31

Our "Most Likely"

As Steve and I were chatting over the breakfast table this morning he nonchalantly says, "So, can you bring the kids over to my classroom at 4 pm today? We have to take a family picture for the yearbook." I shoot him a quizzical look and he responds, "Well, you remember how they do awards for the yearbook like Best Eyes and Most Likely to (fill in the blank)? They did teacher awards this year and I won two awards. One of them involves you guys." Playfully I respond, "What?! What was your singular award? 'Most Likely to Be a Nerd?' " With eyes dancing he says, "How dare you infer such a thing? To be exact, the award is 'Most Likely to Have Been a Nerd in High School.' " Ah ha. I see. He then goes on, "And the other award goes to our family...'Most Likely to Have the Most Children.' "

I just bust up laughing.

Seriously...'Most Likely to Have the Most Children'. Who comes up with these things? I'd love to know what some of the other awards are.

But I guess we won the grand prize for that particular one since we are the only ones with 5 (almost). Some of our best pals around here though have four...so we're not that far ahead.

Not wanting to disappoint, we marched over there at 4 o'clock-me, the boys, Elliana and my pregnant belly, to meet Steve and take pictures for the yearbook. I brought my camera too and had them get a couple for us.

It was fun. It was silly. And I was proud to say, "Look, we love children. They are a blessing. And we'll gladly take your prize." We both knew deep down that the "Most Likely" award could've been taken as a jab...but we chose not to see it that way. We also know that many people don't agree with us having a lot of children. And that's okay too...we can respectfully disagree. These things aren't deal breakers but we do choose to believe what God says about having children, that they're a blessing and a heritage. Can't argue with that.

But on the other hand, it's not necessarily about the numbers either. We could have ten children and yet have our home resemble a graveyard-devoid of life and desolate. What good is that? Vitality is the goal...not perfection. Having a lot (or just more than usual) doesn't make us anymore holy than anyone else. But there is something to having a home bursting with the pitter patter of little feet (no matter how many), dirty faces and rosy cheeks. They chasten us and change us.

Another thing that always humbles us as well is that God chose to give us children in the first place. We're fully aware that He didn't have to. I've had close friends deal with infertility and these heartaches are real and deep. I'll NEVER forget how I bawled when one of my dearest friends, who had suffered infertility for years and who then had a miscarriage, told me she was pregnant again. Sobbing, all I could think to do was pray, "God please protect that baby!!" And He did.

Children are a blessing whether they come directly from the womb or through adoption. They're a blessing period-one that we can't take for granted. God uses them for our good and we're so thankful for them. Their lives are our reward.

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!!" Psalm 127:3-5 Emphasis mine.

And that's a reward we're proud to pose for.

The Monday Report

Last week was a week full of much needed rest. Just when I thought I might fall off the deep end (ha ha, not really but you know what I mean), we realized that it was Spring Break for Texas A & M and the week off was exactly what our whole family needed. Once Steve was done wrapping up 3rd Quarter grades for his day job, aka Calculus/Physics Teacher, we had him all to ourselves. Many nights were spent wrestling with the boys, building a 1000 piece puzzle together and me gladly passing off the duties of putting them all to bed to The Man. Surprisingly, every day I seemed to feel a little more tired and eventually concluded that I was finally winding down after a bit of a sprinting session. Many of the nights I did not see 10 pm. Such is good for me!

Over the weekend it was also my birthday so there were some festivities. Some of my best pals round these parts took me out to frozen yogurt, Yogurtland, on Friday night for some goodness and girl talk. It was literally pouring buckets but we ventured out anyway. It was so much fun. Thanks so much girls...love you! The next morning, my actual birthday, we went out to breakfast as a family to our favorite little place, Red Apple Cafe. After that, we ran errands all over town all together. Running errands together is one of my favorite things and since Steve's been in grad school we don't get to do it all that often since Saturday is one of his study days. It was so fun to stroll through Costco together and do some other necessary things. I loved it.

Afterward we rested and then went out that night to one of our favorite dinner places, The Crow's Nest. We left the children with Grandpa and Grandma close to bedtime and headed out to a late dinner. We had the best time and left stuffed. We had skipped lunch due to breakfast out and then were hungry by dinner time so, that combo left us with full bellies for the second time that day. Oh well, one's birthday only comes once a year!!

All in all, it was a wonderful week of rest that ended with a festive and thoughtful celebration of my birthday.

31 isn't all that bad you know. I told Steve I'm really in my thirties now and he just laughed asking where I'd been the whole last year. I shrugged and said, "I don't know, somewhere in between I guess. It's nice to ease in slowly to these things."

31...yeah I'm okay with it.

And that is today's Monday Report.

An Englishwoman'sTribute to "Pi" Day

About midday today I realized, after seeing many people posting on Facebook about it, that today is Pi Day. I hadn't even thought about it, let alone made any preparations to celebrate it. Celebrate Pi Day, you say?!! March 14th...3.14....

I know, I know...I'm a Lit Major people. I only went through Calculus 1 at Cal Poly. That was enough for me. I like reading and writing. That is my forte. But as you know, the husband is a Mathy...a true savant. Ha! So, to bring a smile to his face, I decided to make him a pie-for Pi Day.

Here were the conditions, I had to have all the ingredients and it had to be super easy because I didn't decide to make this particular pie until lunchtime. And it's Cookie/Brownie Sale Day. I had already baked all morning and was going to be on my feet until bedtime...I wasn't into anything complicated at this point. I also needed to feed the kids lunch and I was starving myself.

Anyhow, I quickly perused my trusty Hot Providence cookbook looking in the index of the dessert section for anything ending in the word pie.

And I came across a recipe for Frozen Peanut Butter Pie.

All right people, it was a total on the fly decision and it turned out really good! It tastes like a Butterfinger Ice Cream bar or something like that. Next time, I'd add more peanut butter and I'd put chocolate sauce/ganache on the top but other than that, it was an EASY peasy thing to make. And on most occasions, I could reach inside my fridge and find all that I needed.

So, I may not be a math connoisseur, but I can bake (or in this case assemble). And that is how we English folk honor the Math folk on Pi Day.

Frozen Peanut Butter Pie
For My Husband-The Mathy

1 Oreo Cookie Crust (Processed Oreos with some butter...press into pie pan and freeze)
1/3 cup peanut butter (I'd go with 1/2 c. and increase from there if you want the flavor stronger)
1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup milk
4 oz room temperature cream cheese
8 oz cool whip (I used 8 oz of whipping cream which I whipped-important, because it was what I had)

While crust is freezing, put first four ingredients into blender or food processor and blend until smooth and creamy. Gently fold whipped cream into mixture. Pour into chilled pie crust. Let freeze for at least 5-6 hours. When ready to serve, let sit out for 10-15 minutes to soften. Eat before it melts!!

Everyone loved it. Steve was happy. And after some inquiry from the boys into what the number Pi is, Steve got to explain one aspect of the number and how it relates to every circle.
Fun, fascinating and it filled our bellies. Hope your Pi Day was just as festive.

The Monday Report

I wasn't sure I'd get to this today but alas, here I am. It'll probably be shorter than normal because I am pretty beat and a whole pile of laundry is calling my name.

Aren't they beautiful? These are the two amazing friends I spent my weekend away with. I have known these women for a long time now and really cherish them-I still can't believe we all pulled the weekend off. Between the three of us, there were eight children ranging from 6 years old to 9 months (with a nursing baby in there) and the husbands were on it. Way to go guys and thank you so much for a little time off!!

So, I must say that I had a FANTABULOUS time with my buddies from Cal Poly. And even though I spent most of the weekend with those two beautiful ladies, we also got to meet up with some other local friends on Sunday for lunch. It was perfect. Anyhow, the three of us talked our heads off, hiked our favorite hike, went shopping, ate good food and talked some more. I have never, ever left my kids with my husband for the weekend. Sure, I've left them for the day and stuff like that but not for the whole weekend.

This is what I saw when I walked in...

And we'll just say that Steve was extremely glad to see me. I had no idea what effect the weekend would have on him. He of course, was a champ and did beautifully. How many guys can watch four kids, age six and under, for the weekend and have everyone dressed, fed, to church and in one piece by the end? He truly outdid himself. I was proud.

But the comments he made to me afterward were hilarious. He told me how he'd clean up one mess and then the kids would dump out the legos. Then he'd do the dishes and in the meantime, Elle would be unrolling the toilet paper in the bathroom. He laughed as he described his intense fatigue once naptime and bedtime rolled around. He then told me how much he cleaned over the weekend. He said he couldn't believe how much he picked up and things were still a mess (it actually wasn't that bad when I got home). To him, the whole deal was incredulous.

He was a good sport and truthfully I'm much more used to the chaos than he is, but it was nice to have him walk a mile in my shoes to see what I do everyday.

Hence the beautiful red roses...he knows.

And that is today's Monday Report.

In His Hands

There have been many things on my heart lately. They range from wondering about the future, worries over my children to relationships with others. And all of them have been magnified by us being half-way through the semester for Texas A&M. Half-way is always when I hit a wall, realize how long I've been sprinting and how much I need a rest.

As I've hit this point yet again, God has been renewing my mind over time, working with me and bringing me to the point of brokenness. I've also been reminded of many truths as I've been mulling over areas where I'm in sin that need repentance, things I need to let go of no matter how wrong I think they may be, and petitions that need to be laid at the cross.

God never sleeps. God carries me through every circumstance and He has the strength to carry me through every task He's given me to complete even if I don't know how I will actually get there.

So I need not fear.

And really, I'm very close to the top of this mountain (semester) and once on the other side, I'll be able to see the end. That's half the battle right there. The rest of my concerns will work themselves out over time. That's the beauty of time itself...it brings clarity and it heals.

As I wrote recently, difficulty isn't necessarily bad. It just feels that way sometimes. But it develops character, produces faith and gives hope.

Some of the chastisement and weariness I feel at this time, I deserve and some of it I don't. But either way, this I know for certain...

I'm in His hands.

He has me.

And that is enough.

In fact, it is everything and all the hope I need in the midst of my fears, worries and frustrations.

I'm in His hands.

In Your Hands
Bebo Norman

I didn't know how I'd love you when I looked into your eyes,
Now I have a heart, that cannot keep
And the greatest of fears, is that you'll leave me here
Stranded in this water, so deep.

So don't you turn away from me
Because my heart and my hope, they're in your hands
If I don't seem certain, it's just a common fear from a common man
But I'm in your hands.

Just so you know, I've never done this sort of thing before,
I've never given up my very soul,
But I have heard a voice, like none I've ever heard before,
And it's a voice that never grows old.

So don't you turn away from me
Because my heart and my hope, they're in your hands
If I don't seem certain, it's just a common fear from a common man
But I'm in your hands.

So don't you turn away from me
Because my heart and my hope, they're in your hands
If I don't seem certain, it's just a common fear from a common man
But I'm in your hands.
I'm in your hands.
I know, I'm in your hands.

Bebo Norman

A Little Conversation

Today, when Caleb came home from school, he told me his test verse was the "X" verse, "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." John 3:3. I asked the precious boy if he knew what that meant. He said, "No." Isaac chimed in that it meant you needed to be a Christian. I then added that yes, one needed to be a Christian to see the Kingdom of God, which is heaven (at least in the simplest of terms). I asked Isaac, "Are you a Christian?" It was more of a rhetorical question/reminder; he is a Christian and always answers, "Yes!". I then moved onto Caleb who was sitting there thinking quite hard.

"Caleb are you a Christian?"

He looked puzzled and then answered slowly but stoutly, "Mom, I must not be a Christian, because I cannot see through the ceiling!!"

I died laughing. I couldn't help it! He thought he had to be able to see heaven right now!!

I then explained more of what it meant to be a Christian again and that we would see heaven when we died. That seemed to satisfy him enough and was once again reassured that yes, he was a Christian.

I love these little conversations I get to have with my boys. They totally crack me up and also inspire me to think bigger, to try and understand the Infinite I AM more, and to see that child-like faith is really true, unadulterated faith.

If I can be like them, like little children, I'll definitely be on the right track.

The Monday Report

Over the weekend I turned 17 weeks pregnant and am flying faster toward that halfway point than I ever thought possible. A couple of things have happened that are worth noting. First of all, I finally had to break out the maternity pants on Saturday. I don't know why I was holding out for so long. They really do feel wonderful. I finally decided to put them on after realizing that I was coming home, getting out of my jeans and putting on comfy pants as soon as possible to be comfortable. Yep, it was time.

I also had to hang-up my running shoes. I've never been able to run for this long before but, I felt good so I kept going. No cramping whatsoever, no hints of general discomfort or anything. But last week I noticed I was getting a bit more winded which just happens naturally as pregnancy progresses. So today I had to face the music and let it go. This morning was my last run. I knew it was coming...I'll be back. I always am. Until then, I'll walk-as hard and fast as I can :). As the months go on, the pace will definitely change the bigger I get! Ha!

On Thursday I took all of the kids in for an eye exam. Thankfully my mom came with me because it was a bit of a circus. I was planning to go by myself and when I told my mom that, she volunteered...what a champ! She loves me. Anyhow, Isaac and Elle got checked out and they're good. Joshua also turned out great. He just needs to keep wearing his glasses. At Caleb's last check-up, when they diagnosed him with strabismus (cross-eyed) like Josh, he had some amblyopia (vision loss) in his left eye. The eye doctor wanted to see how he improved with the glasses. We were really happy that his vision came back to 20/25! It was a huge improvement! His left eye is only slightly behind now.

However, she still felt it was important to get his left eye back to perfectly normal so we talked about patching. This is just so amazing to me. They have what is called a band-garder (I believe that's the name), and what it is, is a little film they put on the lens of his good eye. It blurs his vision just slightly so that his other eye has to work a bit harder. Brilliant! I don't have to remember to patch his eye everyday. All he has to do is wear his glasses (which he always does), and within four months, it should be back to normal. To a busy mom, this type of thing is genius!

This weekend I'm supposed to get away with a few of my best girlfriends from Cal Poly. I'm trying to hold the whole thing loosely because a lot can happen between now and then but, I am starting to get really excited!! Here's one of them...

And that, my dear readers is today's Monday Report.