The Sh!t No One Tells You About Toddlers: A Guide to Surviving the Toddler Years By Dawn Dais : Review

This book, like many books within the 'Parenting Is Hard and Weird and Smells Funny!  (for everyone..not just you)', genre is wonderfully reassuring to people like me.  Parents like me, who approach child rearing without any sort of notions of how the fuck they are gonna make this thing work. Parents who figure 'go with the flow' is the best way to learn. Parents whose children may or may not be minor demons of hell. (The little one--possibly the Antichrist). Anyway..

While the book is lighthearted, quite amusing, and relate-able- (at least for me), it does get a bit repetitive on the humor. That's obviously the writers' style, which is cool, but I can see it getting on some reader's nerves. And the title has a curse word in it, so there's that.

This book is great for those moms who take that lighthearted approach to parenting, no matter how many kiddos they have. If you've got an earth momma friend who is intent on breastfeeding until 12, a helicopter momma who can't believe that 'you'd let your child do that?!?' or someone who doesn't believe in the word 'no'--- maybe this isn't for them.

I appreciate the 'Moms On The Front Lines' (MOFL) section at the end of each chapter, because it does give some feedback from mothers in all different situations. We're all different people. We do things different. And what works for someone may not work for you.  (Just don't be a dick about it, hehe).

The 'Eating Out' chapter bothered me a bit, but as the wife of a chef and a mother of boys who grew up in bars and restaurants (i.e. they damn sure know how to behave and better do behave), I have a different perspective. SOME of the MOFL tips (bring toys, people! KEEP THEM BUSY!) were spot on for this one though, ha.

There are a TON of parenting (funny parenting, serious parenting, weird hippie mama parenting) books out there--and this is another one of them. End of story, really. It's funny and silly and something I'd prefer over those 'Birth to age 3' books. We all need a little humor when raising kids.

Excuse me while I get my little one out of the dog bed and the rawhide out of his mouth.

(*note: this book was received digitally via netgalley for free.)

LOVE. WINS.

Today is just full of joy and emotion. I love that all I see scrolling through my FB feed is happiness and celebration at the SCOTUS decision. I have good, loving ppl all around me (even virtually).

Haters can fuck off.

Love Wins.

Bream gives me hiccups & other stories - by Jessie Eisenberg (review)

So excited to receive my first ever ARC in the mail, which happened to be this one. Tentatively scheduled to be published in September, Jesse Eisenberg of Social Network/Zombieland fame and a bunch of other stuff, has published his first collection of short stories.

Did not even realize he wrote for McSweeney's, The New Yorker, and two plays. While I appreciate his sense of humor and acting style, can you blame me for being slightly skeptical at the quality of this book? I realize many actors publish memoirs, and many, like Amy Poehler's Yes Please and Tina Fey's Bossypants are wonderful and engaging and funny, but original stories give me pause.

Seems he's multi-talented. He can write. And it's funny. It's Dave Sedaris and maybe a little John Kennedy O'Toole thrown in.  The book is a take on modern life, from technology and family relationships and dating and more.

The first set of stories, hence the title, 'Bream Gives Me Hiccups: Restaurant Reviews from a Privileged Nine-Year-Old', was my favorite. The narrator's voice is so forthright, so true to that of what a nine year old would say. This boy goes out on various outings, everything from an Ashram to TCBY, with his divorced mother, reviewing the food as he goes along. It's so much more than that, and while hilarious and silly, they are dark and thought provoking, and a little sad. Okay, a lot sad, but maybe I related on a whole different level. Moving on.

The next section deals with Family goings-on, and the story 'My Nephew Has Some Questions' drove me back to that weird existentialism that having a young kid who asks way to many questions and maybe smoking too much pot bring you to. Fuck. Life.

It progresses, and throughout the stories are unique and Eisenberg has the ability to pick up the nuances of a recent, insecure female high school grad going to college to the nerdy sister studying  Bosnian Genocide to whatever other psychotic-ness that exists in his head quite well.

It riffs on modern life, and is heavy-handed on the intellectualism in some sections (Marxist-Socialist jokes, anyone?), but all in all a quick, good read, great for summer.

Too bad it's coming out in the fall. Oh well. Enjoy your ironic pumpkin spice latte and this book at Starbucks while you attempt to write that novel you've been meaning to get to.

Cheers!
          -Tiffany

*(note: this book was a free ARC received via Shelf Awareness.)

Meetups and Meetings

So.

I am trying to be proactive about my new community (which was my old community, but I was way too busy/too young/didn't own the home to give a shit), so I attended a Heritage Hill Association board meeting a little while ago.

Heritage Hill (HH) is a neighborhood in my city that is an historic district, full of beautiful old houses, some converted into apartments, some just big ass houses like mine (I'm so lucky, I know this), but all unique and interesting and walkable to the center of the city, to downtown.

We are in an ever changing, evolving space, with the growth of Grand Rapids, with the need for more housing, with the increased diversity, families, students, a wide variety of people embracing this city as their own.

HH seems to be all about making sure we keep the paint scheme correct and don't have ACs in the front windows to ruin the facade.

Which makes me sad, since I left a neighborhood with a rocking community association run by the most proactive organizer ninja and all around awesome person who ever ran a community association. I want that here, because I see the changes, I know HH isn't really addressing them, and I feel obligated to be that younger voice and get involved.

So.

I sat, two and a half hours, listened. Observed. Took notes. GRPS (the public school district) had reps, which made me really happy. There are schools in this neighborhood that are doing awesome things, and I don't think HH has really embraced them, and those students who attend these schools, as part of their community. I plan on connecting with them, getting more involved and seeing how I can help. My child goes to a charter at GRPS, which has, on occasion, also approached HH since they are in the neighborhood.. with not many results/positives.

I left a bit disheartened, I guess, but with some good possible contacts and more in the 'know', plus some knowledge of who I can approach with my grandiose ideas who won't have a heart attack if I try to insert some 'change' up in heere.


Meetup:

I took some 'me' time! This momma totally took some me time, and went to a Writer's Meetup she randomly found in her e-mail one day.  It was 'Writing at Contemplative Practice' at someone's house, and was billed as two hours of " learning to trust your own voice; using your own language, your own rhythms, and writing your own story." and then sharing that story.

First off, the apartment was absolutely beautiful and cozy and inspiring. It was an attic apartment, all stained glass windows and odd corners, nooks to hide in, art and books and billowly. Exactly where I'd be if I didn't have two children a dog and way too many things.

 I was thinking I might act lik my ol' cynical self and huffy, writing it all off as 'woo' and people as idiots, but I really tried to hold it back. The host had warm bread made, coffee and tea and maybe was a little 'woo', but incredibly kind and I know I'm just an asshat.

Anyway. We talked a bit and had coffee and I feel like I actually might have made a few friends.  I was excited to just write write, pen to paper and no other thoughts in my brain. I really enjoyed sharing with everyone else, and I shushed my hesitance and negativity towards myself, and also tried to listen- really listen- to others' stories and voice, and give feedback.

It was nice, hearing good things, not getting slammed for not using hyphens correctly or commas or having shitty grammar. It was nice to share my story, it all it's ugly, unedited nakedness. 

Like this blog.

I like ugly.

Prompt: What were you passionate about as a child?
My response: Escape.

(Make of that what you will.)

Books, books, so many books!

Reading so many books at once and it's just delicious. Listened to a podcast last night that made me 'whoa.'

ADHD?

Is my job making me this way?.. Maybe.. Maybe.

Currently reading:
-Saga - latest issue
-Descender - latest issue
-Coffin Hill - latest issue
(these are comics folks. I like comics. I never used to like comics, but, damnit, I like comics.)

Almost finished:

Just finished and will review soon:

Just finished and may or may not review (hey-my time is limited):
-Nailbiter #2 (trade-ALSO a comic.)
-Savage #1 (comic)

A million more are sitting on my nightstand, looking at me angrily.


So, the Jesse Eisenberg book was my first (!) ARC received via mail. Pretty. Damn exciting. Plan on reviewing it in depth soon! Also just got Margaret Atwood's new one:

 Pretty excited about this one too! I LOVE printed copies of books, and while NetGalley is awesome and I am in the midst of reading a few e-Galley's on there at well, there's something about the feel of a book in your hand and the smell of newly printed pages and the heft of the paper that just makes me happy inside.












More reviews to come! Thinking that reading is definitely keeping me sane(ish), and happy I have an outlet to write.

What We Will Do.

Yesterday was just a day of overwhelmingness. Which is not a word, but the only thing that makes sense in this situation.

My babe was sick, which is just awful because he's tiny and can't talk and just looks miserable and grumpy and makes me feel bad. It's also awful because I get irritated at sickness and sick people/things and being sick myself, and I'm a horrible person to get annoyed at a baby, right?

This was also the day I agreed to babysit one of the older one's friends, which would be totally fine w/o the sick baby. And, magically, it became the day that I ended up having a fuck ton of last minute projects to do that I totally didn't expect.

Frantically working, holding a sick baby, making lunch for little boys and ignoring the chaos that was happening in the rest of my house; I get a text from out of town friends who were only going to be in town for a few hours today, so could they stop by and see everyone?

Of course. Bring your little dogs too.

OH. And we had old neighbors and their kiddos planning to head over in the afternoon/evening.

Then the baby finally managed to actually crack my cell phone screen. And I totally have my period.

So I get on Facebook, because that's what you do when you are avoiding all the things you actually hafta do and discover all the crazy that has happened in the world in great detail.


My head hurts. My heart hurts. All the chaos of my day just compounds and then explodes and I forget why it's important, besides slight inconvenience. Who cares? I have a loving family and friends and a life, I have my life.

Facebook brings more reaction to the situation, from 'Great, now they are gonna target WHITE people!' to 'Well. More guns, of course. That's what we need. USA, USA!' to detailed, considerate commentary and realization of everything we have ignored as a whole, as a country, for years and years and years and my god.

God.

I'm getting sick and tired of this, things like this, again and again. Fuck anyone who says we are the greatest country in the world.

Address this. Think about it. Give it a voice and make intelligent solutions for our future. Then maybe we can be great.

Stir: Overall Review

Stir: My Broken Brain and the Meals That Brought Me Home

A Review by a Not Very Good Reviewer, but a Very Good Reader

(that's me)

Stir is a decent memoir, one that shouldn't really make sense but does. Jessica uses her passion, her history and her easy to digest voice to create a story that makes you want to keep reading.

Food is the great connector, the one thing that draws everyone to the table, regardless of religious differences or background.  Pairing her story of medical disaster and long road to recovery with recipes from her childhood or those that invoked specific feelings or memories makes sense. Sharing the table with the author throughout her journey are friends, family members and those just passing by who all had an impact on her regaining strength and readjusting to 'life after'.

Jessica's past is recalled through eloquent, sentimental descriptions of meals shared, meals made, bread broken.  I was concerned when I started the book that the inclusion of the recipes at the end of the chapters would feel forced, that maybe deep down the author really wanted to write a cookbook or just promote the blog, but the more I read, the less this was an issue. Jessica appreciates and understands the meaning of food, and it flows nicely along with the story of her recovery.

Nor does Jessica play the 'woe is me' card, which, in her situation, I almost wouldn't blame her for.  Her voice is honest about what happened to her and how she felt during those times - additional surgeries, infections - where it must of felt most bleak.  She doesn't deny the difficulty, but the way the memoir is written doesn't ask you for sympathy. Instead, you are right there with her, empathetic, wanting to understand.

This book created a lot of 'I get that!' moments for me, enough so my brain would wander to similar situations in my own life, times of trial or great success. Stories that parallel the author's experiences. Ultimately, I want a book that makes me so lost in another world or that creates those feelings of closeness and understanding.  This is definitely the latter, and it does an excellent job at it.

(*note: this book was received digitally via netgalley for free.)

Stir: Chapters 18-33

 Toll House cookies are no joke. I don't think anything I've made has ever made my family happier.
___
I don't think I'm capable of as much gratitude as the author.  All I would be, could be, is angry. But maybe she was, too.
___
I noticed the small signs, symptoms of depression, uncontrolled crying, wiping tears and general melancholy now. Too late, of course - my mother is long dead. The longer she's gone, the more I realize how alike we were.
___
 We make home where our people sleep. It's not where, it's how, it's the familiar scent of your little boy, sweaty after playing with friends, touching babysoft skin, the thin hair on my husband's head. Home is people, not location.
___
Oh. That. Sucks.
___
I thought I was a good guest, but I might actually be a horrible one. Hrm.
___
I guess I can't knock the blogs anymore. Blagh. Food blogs, though. Most of them.. that's another post, ha.
___
Sometimes you just need to do, for you. Something entirely superficial. New clothes, for no reason.  Maybe a haircut. There are days I want this so badly for myself, want to straighten my stupid crooked front tooth I've convinced myself that I actually like, that it's a cute quirk and makes my face unique. 
___
We all struggle. We all eat. We all find ways to survive. And hopefully thrive.

Stir: Chapters 6- 17

Okay, Chapter 6 was endearing and I read the recipe-at least the intro.
___
Food=place. Yes. YES. Though I've been lucky enough to never have a prolonged hospital stay outside of pregnancy, I do remember the glory of the first meals after my children's birth. Sushi and and red wine in a coffee cup after number 1. Following all pregnancy 'rules', I denied myself the deliciousness of raw fish throughout. It wasn't the best sushi, but it sure tasted like it then.
Number 2 and my favorite photographer friend sneaks in a Dark Lord, of all things (!) blessed beer, again concealed in a Styrofoam cup. And she brings me Italian from the place my husband used to work. So much delicious freshness and flavor after the decent, but incredibly bland, hospital meals. It's true. Food humanizes. It removes you from where you are and takes you to where you should be.
___
The stupid, sudden, overwhelming realization of 'yes-this is the person you will spend your life with.' So I'm not the only insane one. Good to know.
___
I'm making Cholent. Totally.
___
The best part of making a life together is making that life together. Discovering where you both want to put the silverware, what side of the bed to sleep on, knowing you'll ALWAYS have to pick up his towels from the closet because that's just something that will never change.
___
Crispy Rice and Eggs is a thing?!? I do that thing. I didn't know it was a thing. I always like using leftovers efficiently.
___
What really does matter? I guess we do know. But maybe we ignore it, for the easiness of  daily frustration and duties. Me? Cleaning and sweeping, making sure dishes aren't left in the sink. Letting my husband chat with OUR friends while our kids play and scream and laugh and track dirt into the house and all I can think about is making sure that no one will judge me. Because I still feel judged, even by those closest to me.
Childhood regression, I guess.
I need to stop and start sitting at the table with those beautiful folk we called friends and family.
But--not too long. I still have to get the cleaning done.  Honestly, the few times I can remember when I have been 'all caught up'- clean home, dishes done, kids away/in bed, nothing else to do.. I just looked around and thought, 'Well. What now?'
I think I do better when I'm almost at my breaking point. I just need to find out exactly where that breaking point is, because lately I'm pretty sure I've been crossing that line.
___

Other Thoughts:
Do I take it back? The food is more engrained with the flow of the story now. This makes sense. Maybe my brain is making sense of it. Maybe it always did. Whatever, I'm digging it.
This is becoming charmingly endearing and touching and concrete. It's very much Jessica's story, and her voice is familiar and comforting, honest with itself without pretense. I'm looking for that courage.

I read fast. And I'm reading this one pretty dang quickly. More to come.

Work. And Work.

This morning, someone in one of my 'Chef Wives' group posted this, and it's pretty spot on, as far as I can tell being a bystander/cheerleader for my own Chef.  It's hard to explain to anyone outside of our circle of other chef and chef spouse friends, this weird family life we have developed.  Just because it's different, doesn't mean the love and connection isn't there.

So- here's my response to some commonly asked questions from family/friends about dealing with the whole Chef Wife thing.


"Wow, you do everything at home, huh?"-Kinda. Maybe. Sure, but hey. Whatever. The husband doesn't purposely not do shit at home. He's been doing shit all day, on his feet, for anywhere between 8 to 18 hours. I understand that all my husband wants to do is shower and play a video game some evenings. I get that, and it's fine. We manage. It may look one-sided, but it's really not.

If the roof shingles need to be replaced, if drywall needs to be installed, if a tree needs to be taken down.. I'm not getting my ass on a ladder. I could, but why should I when he'll do it?

And yes, on his days off, he's been known to do a load of laundry, dishes, and even *gasp* take care of the childrens!

"Why don't they just get another job?"
-Why don't YOU just get another job? Oh, because you like your 9-5? You enjoy the type of work you do? You are good at it? You went to school for it? It's your CAREER?

Oh, yeah.

Well, my husband may not have the 9-5, but he enjoys the hell outta what he does, he's amazing at it, and, yes, he did go to school to have this career. It's a career, it's his choice, his passion and his livelihood. Not everyone wants a job just for the money, folks.

"Aren't you lonely all the time?"
-Lonely? I have two kids, I am NEVER alone. I would love to be actually alone sometime! (As I type this, my 8 month old is in my lap, blowing spit bubbles all over my arm and watching himself on the webcam in sparkle vision to distract him from smacking the keyboard.)

And, honestly, I like being by myself. I read. I write. I have projects and I work too, by the way.  I work at home, yes, but it's not selling shit on Etsy (no offense if that's your thing..).  It's a job, requiring time and meetings and with deadlines. A job. Keeps me pretty busy.

Plus, my social circle is not limited to just my husband, sheesh.

"It's like you are a single mom."
-Guess what? I know some single moms, and I can tell you that it's a helluva lot harder for them than it is for me. Sure, I have to attend all the school conferences, pack lunches, go to play dates, whatever. But- I have someone else who can pick up the kids if there is a real emergency, someone else who can get up and give the baby a bottle at 3 AM if I'm sick. I have a partner, someone there when things get tough.

So don't give me that sort of credit. I'm not Superwoman. Heap that praise on this women who REALLY are single moms and handling their business and raising amazing children.

I'm sure there's more questions/comments I could respond to, but I gotta get back to being lonely, a single mother, and my pity party.

Ta.

Starring Shapes! by Tania Howells-Kids Book Review!

Yay! I got my first kids book galley. Here's the description via NetGalley:

"Shapes play supporting roles in the world around us, but which one will be the star of Shapeston Elementary School's play? Triangle has experience as a traffic sign, and Square moonlights as a postage stamp, Circle as a lemon slice, Rectangle as the cover of a magazine and Diamond as a kite, while Oval has played a surfboard. A fun and fresh look at basic shapes that will have you seeing them in surprising places."

I read it to this guy:

 

after naptime, and had the bigger one help me out, to see if he approved of the book.

my kids are weird...

Ser Loki says:
"I would read this if I was little, because it tells you about what each of the shapes could be, so it kind of would make me think about it if I didn't know a lot about shapes already." 

The bright colors, clean lines and simple illustrations are definitely appealing to little ones. It's easy to point out and identify the shapes as you go through the book. "Look, a circle can be a beach ball, the shape of this window. Circles are everywhere!"

The text established little storylines and personalities for each particular shape - Triangle is the life of the party, Square likes to help, Diamond is dazzling, and that's kind of cute.  An Indian holiday was mentioned in the book and I totally had to Google it (Diwali), which made me feel a little less worldly than I thought I was. It was kind of annoying (it's a kids book!) but also a way to introduce children to festivals, etc they might not know about, I guess..but within the purpose and context of this book (let's learn about shapes!), kind of a needless distraction.

I'd give it an overall 3.5 out of 5. I tend to expect a lot of my children's books. Simplicity isn't a disqualifier for a 5 out of 5 rating, but I need it to hold my attention. I'm pretty ADD, ya know, like a four year old, so. Ha.

So-there you go! I reviewed a book. Don't be too hard on me, this is new for me folks. I just says it like I sees it.

Cheers!

(*note: this book was received digitally via netgalley for free.)

Stir: Random of randomness: Prologue, Chapters 1-5

 This is going to sound strange. I don't care. I'm musing, writing my thoughts as I read, as I would in a journal, or just let them float through my head.  This is how I will continue to approach this book. So. Here you go.
___
Oh good God, weight vs. measurements! YES. Weight-if I've learned ANYTHING from my husband. That'll get you perfect cookies.
___
The idea of eating what you like and liking what you eat sticks with me. It's not always about the cassoulet, the confit, imported french wines and elegant pastries. Sometimes it's about a Twix when all you really, really want is a Twix.
For me, food, growing up, is a painful memory. Overweight until my early teens, my mother fed me on Hostess Cupcakes, bags of potato chips in bed at night, the fattiest kind of ground beef, 'pork' and beans- meaning hot dogs cut up in a can of baked beans, and canned everything- veg, meat, you name it. I don't think I ate a fresh vegetable until I was 15.
I indulge my children, sure, but my husband is a chef, for fucks' sake. Mac and Cheese are the standbys, but they'll eat duck and snails and parsnips and beets and anything else you offer them.
My childhood memories of food were painful. Food was painful. Anorexia and drugs were comforting. The not eating made me feel better. It wasn't until I married my husband and learned what family could be and what food should be that I began to see all the delights and pleasantness that could come with a finely crafted plate.
___
I love the love/hate. I love the lack of attraction, and suddenly it's there. What happens? What changes? Must you change, to realize you truly are in tune with something, that you enjoy their company?
___
Bullshit running commentary. Beautiful. I'm glad my husband and I are not the only ones.

Other thoughts:
Skipping the recipes. I'm not a cook-but I do love to eat. Sometimes I'm inspired. Sometimes I'll make a cake. Not today.
This book bounces. Past to the present, food throughout. It's ingrained, it's the core of the book. It may be true, it may be there and all encompassing, all important. But-it feels a bit heavy-handed and forced. Not always, but a bit.
The writing is vivid. The descriptions are there, I feel what she shares. I feel the blood pooling in my own brain and I touch my temple where I dropped my cell phone on it, directly, last night. It's still tender.
I wonder how I would face something like this..what would be my saving grace? What would bring me back, sustain me? Ultimately, isn't it always family? But what is it about my family that tethers me to this world?

YAY! Kinda?

Well, NetGalley approved my advanced review of a book! Which, if you are a nerdy reader like me, is pretty sweet and an easy way to get e-copies of books before they come out. I do prefer to have the book in my hand, but I'm on the computer so damn much and I have a Nook, so - why not?

I'm excited, but also realize that I always have a ton of shit to do, so when will I find time to read this? I'm in the middle of about five books currently, but feel an obligation to read and review this bad boy NetGalley so graciously sent me. And I don't want it to take away from the enjoyment of reading, being an obligation.  So I feel obligated, but need to approach it in an unobligated sort of way? Unobligated isn't even a word. Ugh. 

But-- this book sounded pretty awesome, and I'm kind of jazzed to read it.  It's called Stir: My Broken Brain and the Meals that Brought Me Home by Jessica Fechtor.  Memoir, cooking, tragedy, triumph - all those good things I feel like I can connect with right now. What I love most about reading certain books at certain times is the way they resonate within your life context.

For example- this morning I'm sitting in a video conference, crying baby, my seven year old all over the place, not showered, and not medicated. (Sidenote: I take a few meds. That's a whole other post, probably coming soon).  The littlest things can result in a great big catastrophe inside my brain, and I just want to shut down. I've been, lately, easily overwhelmed, which would be strange to anyone who has worked with me or went to school with me. (I apparently hide stress well. Or I used to.) At this time, today, I feel gone. I'm trying to get back. I'm trying to balance.

Let's see if this helps.

ONWARD!

Making this Decision. Fingers Crossed.

So I've decided. I've decided to start actually devoting time to this, time for myself to write, explore, muse and talk.
Fuck it all-let's do this.
2015 brought a new baby boy, a big ol' move, lots of stresses, new medication, slight restoration and then complete disintegration and maybe more restoration of my sanity. Or I'm drinking more, that could be it.

Working from home with an 8 month old is proving difficult. I'm happy when I get a shower before noon. It's really exciting when the baby naps.

Since the snazzy at-home Digital Marketing gig has been picking up, I've let go a lot of my fun freelance stuff, like writing for mittenbrew.com , which is a super bummer.  Too hard to get outta the house with the kid(s), and I gotta make that money now that we've moved into a bigger house where the bills will certainly be more.

It's sad, and I'm beginning to feel like I'm giving up on something that kept me sane. So I've got to fix it (while sitting in my PJs, baby boy throwing things out of his playpen and crying because I'm most definitely an asshole mom), and the road to recovery will lie here.

I've been requesting ARCs, also known as Advanced Readers Copies, of new books, sparked by my recent podcast obsession, which has been fueled by insomnia and frustration. Fuck watching a movie anymore! What's a movie?

Anyway, one of those Podcasts is Book Riot, which led me to All The Books. Both are awesome and reminded me what a book nerd I am. So, I'll do some reviews, because hopefully some kindhearted publisher somewheres will send things along. I'll give myself an allowance to take the time to read for pleasure, whenever possible, write for pleasure (and sanity) whenever possible, and hope it leads me back towards that precipice where work life and personal life and family life meld magically and everything is all right.

Here's hoping.