Story of Mac's Life

He's happy.

He sees something he wants but can't have.

He's sad.

He's off to find something else that will harm him.
(In this case: a lamp cord. The child has a death wish!)

This cycle repeats itself about 20 times an hour. Does it make me a terrible mom that I find his unhappy face absolutely adorable? Sorry, Mac, I'm not going to let you maim yourself on my watch... Pout away!

Side note: Can we talk about what he does with his toes when he sits up? What a little monkey!

Sounds Like Fall

This morning it was 67 degrees for a one brief, shining moment. It's the time of year when summer lets you know it's winding down; I get excited just imagining long sleeves, hot cider, gorgeous leaves and the "fresh start" that fall brings.

It brings to mind a favorite lyric:

"When autumn comes, it doesn't ask; it just walks in where it left you last. You never know when it starts until there's fog inside the glass around your summer heart."

-John Mayer, Something's Missing

In fact, that whole album sounds like fall to me. It came out ages ago, when I was starting fresh in my hometown - this time as an "grown up," sharing a precious little house and starting classes with a roomful of strangers.

It sounds like figuring out what it meant to live somewhere besides Clemson and slowly beginning to understand what it meant to be an adult.

When I hear it, I think of driving with the windows down through Five Points, wearing new "grad school clothes" and Rainbows (it's still hot in Columbia), wondering what the next few years would bring.

The answer? Lots of change. I'm glad I didn't know it then, and I'm glad every last change came to pass.

Call it nostalgia, but John Mayer's Heavier Things is in heavy rotation this week, an audio time capsule bringing me back to autumns past.

I'm pulling out my orange (and purple!) and preparing for fall, humming all the while. I'm ready to hear the crunch of leaves, the song that shakes the Southland and the silence once our air conditioning doesn't need to hum constantly.

What sounds like fall to you?

That's Amore

You need to have heard this song to understand the depth of my husband's kindness and gratitude in this moment.

A snapshot from our Sunday afternoon. Mac (hallelujah!) is napping upstairs. I'm baking potatoes and B is grilling burgers.

He comes back inside humming, walks into the kitchen, surveying the state of our sink. Evidently it makes him want to burst into song.

B: (warbling sweetly) God gave me you to make things nice and shinyyyyyy. God gave me you for when things get grimy. God gave me you to wash the dishesssssss...

I've never felt so loved. I missed the part in the creation story about Eve being made solely as a dish-washing fiend, but I emptied the dishwasher anyhow. I was afraid of what a second verse might include!

Sunday Tunes

Two songs have been stuck in my head for the last week, so I thought I'd share my new favorites - and why I can't stop humming them.

Taylor Swift's "Mine"

Because my love for Taylor is well documented. Because, as Popwatch pointed out, Taylor love a romantic, narrative video. Because happy endings, weddings and reading books to babies can still make me cry.

Darius Rucker "Come Back Song"

Because Kristen had a point when she said this video is a love letter to Charleston. Because people who have negative things to say about our state must never have been here. Because I could listen to Darius sing the news.

(We sang this in church again today and it's on continuous play in my head as well. Glad my boys don't mind a few tunes on Sunday!)

Shopping and Saving

Seven or eight years ago, online shopping was new and exciting territory. I bought almost exclusively at J Crew and eBay but eventually expanded my virtual buying world, adding in a new sites to my circle of trusty favorites.

When I discovered RueLaLa a few years ago, I was over the moon excited. It was my first online boutique shopping experience and I loved the combination of exclusivity (ooh, I'm special!) and fantastic deals.

Flash forward to today, when I get daily emails from Gilt, Ideeli, Row Nine, Billion Dollar Babes, Zulily and One Kings Lane. I don't buy from these sites terribly often, but I like to keep my eyes peeled for gift ideas and little treats throughout the year.

While I'm in shopping lockdown for the time being, I'm in awe at how much my online shopping habits have changed in a few short years. Unlike the early days of "click to buy," I now find free shipping and additional discount codes to make patronizing my favorite virtual stores easier on my wallet.

More than anything, I loathe paying for shipping. $15 to ship a few insanely light tops? Absolutely not, J Crew.


Knowing this, I'm kicking myself for tuning out the masses who raved about Ebates. It sounded shady, or at least too good to be true. I make money for shopping online? At sites I'd visit anyway, on purchases of my choosing?

I signed up a month ago and, as little online shopping as I've done, have earned a surprising amount of rebates. Birthday money spent at Lands End Canvas, Sephora and eBay went farther with a few rebates! I just went to Ebates, searched for the store, found out the rebate percentage and clicked on any applicable coupons before shopping.

Last month I took a gift card to Sephora.com, where I got free shipping, 8% cash back from Ebates, the standard three free samples and (with a code) a free full-sized mascara as well. I felt fabulous!

Ebates sends me a running total of the percentage I've gotten back from various purchases; I'll let y'all know when I receive my actual check at the end of the quarter. (Right now they're giving a $5 bonus to new members, so scurry on by!)

If we were buying school supplies, electronics, fall clothes or big gift cards, I'd be sure to do it this way. If you're going to purchase something anyway, you might as well get a little cash back for doing so.

Do y'all have any other online shopping and saving tips? Any other sites you use that work similarly? True, I'm in "no shopping" mode. But birthday and baby gifts and necessary purchases all qualify for rebates, too. I'll take all the tips I can get. Do share!

(Note: None of the above-mentioned sites asked, induced or compensated me to mention them. All for the love of the game!)

Moon Pies Get Their Day in the Sun

Cupcakes have been trendy for some time now. They're ubiquitious; every city has its own cupcake cafe, every wedding planner has created a cupcake display, every adult has partaken of these delicious, sprinkle-topped treats.

While I'll never stop craving cupcakes, I think the bubble may have burst for these trendy sweets. The world of haute cuisine is clamoring for a new dessert du jour and, if The Kitchn is to be believed, the next must-have baked good could be the Moon Pie!


While I take issue with calling them truck stop staples, I agree that Moon Pies aren't for everyone. They may be unheard of in certain parts of the country, but around here they're well known - and paired, like snapper and sauvignon blanc, with RC Cola.

While each can be hard to find, the RC and Moon Pie combination is a classic. Clemson's president Robert Cook "R.C." Edwards' wife was even given the nickname "Moon Pie." If that doesn't say "we go together like peas and carrots," I don't know what does.

We gave away orange and white Moon Pies at our wedding a few years ago, but they're not a staple in the Smith household. Though I may not eat many Moon Pies these days, I'm still excited to see this bit of Southern culture trickle into the foodie world.


I might even try this recipe for homemade Chocolate Peanut Butter Moon Pies, just to celebrate my roots - and my sweet tooth.

If you're in the mood for a rainbow of original Moon Pies, take a look at what's available. All kinds of "truck stop" goodness.

Are you a Moon Pie fan?

Mac's Sleepless Sunday

Warning: The rant below might make no sense if you don't have small children and/or a compulsion to stay on a routine...

Wishful thinking?

Bradley and I are back in the Sunday School saddle! We started teaching a precious group of 4-year-olds at our church earlier this month and are so excited about it. (We taught this age group before Mac was born, too.)

For this reason, Mac's schedule is a little off on Sundays. Between the 9:15 service, our teaching Sunday School at 11:15 and waiting for our class to be picked up by their parents, Mac will be on campus between three and a half and four hours every week.

This means a nap at church, something he's never been good at, is a must. When he was in daycare earlier this year, he would only doze off briefly in a swing during the course of a day - there was too much to look at!

Church is the same way for him. New faces! New voices! New arms to squeeze him and toys to chew! Even though the cribs are in a quiet, dark, separate room, he's only succumbed to sleep once.

Yesterday was his first four-hour day at church. He usually naps between 10:00 and 10:30, so I tried to put him down myself between services, but that didn't work. And it didn't work for either of his teachers in their separate attempts, so I let the nap dream go.

He had just drifted off in his car seat when we pulled into our driveway, but that was the ONLY sleep he got yesterday.

Yes, you read that correctly. Our sweet two-a-day napper, who enjoys both sleep and alone time in his crib, slept not a wink between 7:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m.

He's cutting his first tooth, which could contribute to the problem, but I'm staring down the barrel of twelve months of napless Sundays. And today he's still 0 for 1 napwise. (To be fair, last night he slept for nearly 12 hours. But he typically naps twice in addition to a full night.)

I'm a firm believer that sleep breeds sleep; it isn't entirely surprising that we're on day two without naps. But it is frustrating.

What do I do? I don't want to push the nap issue and make his teachers and other babies miserable if he just can't settle down to sleep. But I also don't want every Sunday (and Monday, it seems) to be ruined by an unhappy, overtired baby.

Once our small group meetings pick back up in a week or two, Mac will have just over two hours between getting home from church and leaving for small group. How can I make that (lunch, rest, playtime, etc) work if he hasn't slept at church?

I was concerned about how Sundays would work for us, being at church for two services and then having small group in the afternoons, but didn't want to use Mac as a reason not to serve. Plenty of families with far more children are serving at Grace - and it's been such a blessing to us that we knew we'd find a way to make it work. So now I'm asking for some insight on how y'all make busy Sundays work.

Sorry for the panicked rant, but I'm befuddled. Since he started sleeping through the night consistently (the day I left my full-time job), Mac has been a wonderful sleeper. I put him down awake, hand him his blanky, leave the room and come back when I hear giggling hours later.

Twice a day, that's been his routine. He's not crying in his crib right now, but he's not sleeping, either. Did someone slip him baby Red Bull?

Any advice?

If You'll Be My Bodyguard...

Do you remember Paul Simon's "Call Me Al" video? Maybe I'm dating myself, but I remember watching it with my dad as he explained who these two men were - and why the whole thing was funny.



Such an iconic video - I love it.

That is why it kills me that my dad and I didn't think of this genius idea three years ago!

I'm emotional enough as it is, so any slow and sentimental father/daughter dance songs were automatically out. We danced to "Isn't She Lovely," the perfect song for us, but there were no recorders, saxophones or lip syncing involved.

A Facebook friend posted video today of this brilliant father/daughter "dance" at a recent Charlotte wedding they attended. What a treat those guests got!

Think y'all could have pulled off something so silly on your wedding day?

See? You CAN Say No to Shopping!

(Disclaimer: I don't normally discuss body parts on my blog, but I'm rationalizing that if it's legitimate enough to be covered by The Wall Street Journal, it's fair game.)

Sometimes I find it particularly difficult not to click "buy." Especially if I feel like something can make me look cuter, strut my stuff, hear "have you been to a spa?" or just plain feel better about myself. I avoid Sephora at all costs for this very reason.

Why does the "before" model look bigger in the middle and just plain unhappy?
Does the Booty Pop also fluff your hair, tell you a joke and brighten your lipstick?

Today I discovered something that's shown me I can say "no" to shopping: the Booty Pop.

By saying no to this humorously named derriere-plumper, I am saying no to egg-shaped puffs of fabric shoved in my underpants. No to $30 underwear that do what squats and lunges (or Krispy Kreme and pizza, if you go the other route) can do. No to ridiculous infomercials and awkward photos of other girls' enhanced backsides. No to adding anymore junk to my already full trunk.

WSJ's headline mentions that the days of girdles are gone. I disagree - and even wonder if Spanx will create something that pads your booty and sucks in everything else? Seems like there might be a market for it, if gals are letting their "VBPL" (visible booty pop line) show under cocktail dresses.

In trying to find the upside for this silly, totally noticeable and arguably overpriced accoutrement, I came across a possible benefit: Could this be a comfy cushion when you sit down? Does it make hard seats feel a little softer on the tush? Perhaps they could market this to an older crowd once the Snuggie-like newness subsides....

Kudos to their publicist for garnering coverage in the Journal!

There's been a lot of talk lately about the health benefits of a sizeable derriere. Maybe we should be glad this look is making a comeback - even if it is by artificial means...

Ladies, will you be padding your backsides (and paying $30) to make that booty pop?

If Jamie Lynn Spears Can Do It...

About a year ago, just as I stopped being able to see my toes, I began to realize that "this" was "really happening." Until then, I'd been excited about meeting Mac, but a bit in denial about how that would actually happen. You know, the labor and delivery part.

Two particular verses carried me through anxious moments during my third trimester. I felt such a peace about the health of our baby and about the capable hands (earthly and heavenly) that carried us both.

The thought of labor and delivery, though, scared the fool out of me - so I stopped thinking about it. I skipped the all-day class, as just the thought of taking it made me anxious, and settled for the quick L&D ward tour. I just couldn't imagine how I, of all people, was going to be able to do "this."

My sweet friend Kristen encouraged me with talk of how prepared I was, how blessed, how supported. If other people with less than ideal circumstances could bring a baby into this world, surely I could, too. (I love best friend logic.) I'm guessing, knowing us, that a recap of celebrity gossip immediately followed this pep talk.

The combination of encouragement and Hollywood chatter snapped me out of my anxious funk. And from that conversation, a dazzlingly brilliant thought was born: Jamie Lynn Spears did this. Surely that means I can too!

I don't mean to mock or belittle the youngest Spears. I was as disappointed as anyone to read that she was pregnant at only 16. Sure, I've never met her, but she seemed to be a level-headed girl whose star was on the rise.

Though she became a teen mom, I watched with a strange sense of pride as she refrained from dancing on banquettes in stilettos and a maternity dress; instead, she headed home and seemed to refocus her life on the next phase.

Here was a girl who had a lot of things going against her: age, marital status, lack of education, questionable family role models and the eyes (and cameras) of Hollywood focused on her. But she made it through.

If this scrappy young girl, at 16 and perhaps 15 pre-baby pounds, could come through labor and delivery and live to tell the tale, so could I.

As Kristen and I continued to chat in the coming months, that became our mantra: If Jamie Lynn Spears can do it, I can do it. It applies to so much more than childbirth, too!

Parents divorcing bitterly, spewing lies on the covers of tabloids? Sister wearing jorts and awful extensions as she trots barefoot in a public bathroom? Seventeen-year-old fiance not the guy you need to hitch your wagon to? Unsure how to distance yourself from a sketchy relative? If Jamie Lynn Spears can do it...

I joked often last fall that I was going to tape up a picture of JL as my "focus point" during contractions. (I've only heard about such things, as I clearly didn't read about them. Denial is a powerful tool!) I was going to repeat to myself throughout labor, "Jamie Lynn did this. Jamie Lynn did this. Jamie Lynn did this."

When push came to shove (no L&D pun intended), I didn't lean on Jamie Lynn Spears for support. My husband, my nurses, my Creator and, at the last minute, an anesthesiologist took wonderful care of me.

But after I got home with Mac, bleary-eyed and wondering if I'd ever master motherhood, I'd remind myself that somewhere, Jamie Lynn Spears had already done this. And if she could, well, what excuse did I have?

JLS with her toddler daughter Maddie

I'm only half serious when I say this, as I wish Jamie Lynn all the best. But, friends, is there something you're scared to do? Repeat after me: If Jamie Lynn Spears can do it...

If all else fails, call Kristen. She can pep talk you into believing you're ready for anything!

Do We Call This a Shove or a Shock?

Earlier today I saw a woman wearing an odd shoe/glove/sock/wetsuit hybrid on her feet. I didn't want to stare, but I was equal parts horrified and baffled.

To be fair to the woman in question, her pair was a dark purply blue color, perhaps just the tiniest bit more feminine than this off-putting shade of gray.

The set above looks like someone took a cement cast of his feet, then decide to market it to the general public.

My question for you: What are these shoes and why, why, WHY would anyone wear them?

Do they cure some chronic ailment? I really can't imagine why else someone would pay to wear them in public.

Help me solve this mystery!

Ten Months: My Toothless Tornado

On August 5th, our Mac turned ten months old.

I've been telling Bradley for some time that we were turning a corner, that Mac's baby days were numbered and our whole world was going to be turned upside down. I think that time has come.

Our toothless ten-month-old is a baby no more. (Cue a constantly teary me.) He's talking up a storm, recognizing more and more of what we say, moving constantly and surprising us every day.

In his tenth month Mac started giving me kisses when I pick him up from his crib each morning. He doesn't do it daily, but every now and then my little man covers my cheek with an open-mouthed, drooly kiss. It's heavenly.

He still doesn't say "mama." This last month has been the Mac and Daddy show. It's "dada" all the time - even when he wants his mama to hold him, he wants to see and talk to his daddy. It's clear he knows who is mama is, though, so I'm not taking it personally.

Mac pulls up, crawls, rolls, scoots, stands (with a hand on something) and just plain gets around - all in an attempt to do himself great harm. Seriously. The boy is fearless, drawn like an otherworldly force to anything that could hurt him - particularly cords, outlets, air vents and door stops.

He keeps me on my toes - physically and mentally. (How many synonyms can a mom find for "No, Mac!" anyway?) He can move at lightning speed or stop, back up and just settle into my lap for a moment. I never know what to expect but I love our time together.

Macky loves his books. Until recently, he only wanted to chew on them, but now he slams them shut and giggles at the "clap!" it makes . He also "reads" them aloud to me, narrating and babbling, one of the few times he'll sit still these days. I can tell he really means something when he talks.

Our big boy is still as ticklish as they come. Just seeing a wiggling finger come his way can give him a laugh. I love that wherever you squeeze him, you're bound to get a smile. What a happy bean he is!

All in all, our Mac is a whirling dervish of curiosity, excitement, hunger (oh, the food he's putting away!) and joy. His tenth month was our best yet and, while I'm sad to see my "baby" disappearing, I couldn't be prouder to be this little boy's mom.

I love you, my little tornado! And I won't let your daddy cut off that sweet little curl you get from time to time.... I'm not ready for you to be that big a boy yet.

August is the New January

There's something about August that makes me want to turn over a new leaf. I've never been big on New Year's resolutions, but I feel a spark each fall that pushes me to set goals and start anew.

It has to tie into my excitement for the start of school every year. A new wardrobe, fresh notebooks (Lisa Frank, perhaps?), a monogrammed backpack full of untouched pencils and pens.... If that doesn't say, "You can be anything you want!" - nothing does.

Each August I would lay out my clothes for the first day, pack and repack my bookbag, pull out my daytimer and excitedly tell myself, "This is the year." For what, you might ask? I never really knew.

Sometimes it was the year of trying to be trendier or more "on top of things" or more outgoing (is that possible?) or less afraid.

Most years, unintentionally, it became the year of being insanely type A. Recording my outfits in my daytimer so I wouldn't repeat ensembles too often. (Those Express and Limited Too patterns were quite recognizable.) Rewriting a page of notes instead of scratching something out. Keeping notebooks so neat it would make the Citadel proud.

It's been more than five years since I packed a bag for class (unless you count yoga or calligraphy), but I feel the same "back to school" buzz in the air, the chance for a new beginning.

Instead of questioning it, I'm putting this instinct to good use. I have a several professional goals and more than a few personal ones.

*This "year" (I can still measure life by school years, right?) I'm going to take better care of myself, drinking enough water to float a small yacht and feeding myself as healthfully as I do Mac (more on this later). In short, I'm going to live like I did when I was pregnant: totally aware of what I'm doing and how it affects my health.

*I'm going to put a purpose behind my haphazard workouts and start recording them in my MomAgenda. Nothing motivates this girl like check marks, gold stars and being able to run farther than last week.

*I'm going to keep a written budget for my spending. (Somewhere, Dave Ramsey is cackling.)

*I'm going to do something that scares me every week. Maybe it'll be attempting a new class at the gym, pitching a project that will stretch my skills or just taking Mac to Sam's to stock up on paper towels. We'll see.

*I'm going to be intentional about reaching out to other people. As delightful as our family of three is, it's crucial that we continue to build relationships with other people who don't share our DNA. B and I take advantage of occasional evenings out on our own, but lately we've enjoyed a little time with friends - and it's been wonderful. I want to make sure this continues to happen. (Who smells a tailgate??)

*I'm going to prioritize my daily activities (especially morning quiet times) to make sure that I'm doing what's most important, not just what's right in front of me.

Most of all, I'm going to work really hard to keep this "new year" level of excitement about all I'm doing.

(Raise your hand if you had one of these!)

It's not going to be as easy as it was when a pink zippered case of sparkly unicorn pencils motivated me, but I know I can do it.

Wordless Wednesday: He Loves His Puffs!

My Desert Island Wardrobe

Every season I aim to pare down truly by cleaning out my closet.

I create three piles with distinct purposes: donate, sell on eBay and, for the just plain worn out pieces, toss. I try to determine what I need and what I have too much of, though both are relative concepts.

Approaching my this task post-baby has been quite different. The number on the scale is the same, but few pieces fit the same way. Clothes are too big where they shouldn't be - they gap, hang oddly or simply aren't flattering.

It's a conundrum. Theoretically I should be doing back handsprings that I'm not wearing maternity clothes anymore, but I'm frustrated that I don't have as much to wear! I feel tied to a few items that fit, not wanting to buy more in case I change again once we're done nursing. Besides, my work/home wardrobe needs have changed as well.

Tired of feeling frustrated, I've put a new spin on things: I'm not clothes-less; I have a clean slate. I have the opportunity to choose a few basic pieces and rotate all of the accessories, scarves and shoes that always fit, pregnant, post-baby or not.

Now I have a clear picture of what I wear most often. Truth be told, while I prefer a lot of options, I stick to the same few outfits over and over. Certain ensembles stay in heavy rotation.

This summer I've been on a white jeans kick. White jeans with a top and a pair of Jack Rogers is my go to outfit. Dreaming of cooler temperatures, I'm approaching fall, football season and boots weather with the same outlook: What is my "desert island" wardrobe?

If I could take (or buy) only a handful of things to start fresh, what would they be?

Jeans. Not the skinny variety.

My favorite Frye boots

Three-quarter length sleeved tees
(I may need a few new ones, as I stretched several out in my "I'm not that pregnant" denial stage.)

A jacket for fall and another for spring

Plus more cardigans in more colors than I care to admit. (Though not this gorgeous purple!) There's not much a cardigan won't fix in my book - and in my closet.

While I love the basics above that I already own, I do want a few more things to fill out my "desert island" suitcase. (Stop rolling your eyes, B!)

I need simple, classic dresses to wear with my much-loved boots. Maybe a wrap dress, a jersey dress and a sweater dress? Have you seen any you love? There's nothing better than a dress that makes you look put together even when you've just thrown it on.


Also on my list are pretty new flats. Everyone adores the Tory Burch Reva and I'd love a pair in gold, silver, deep purple and black.

Considering the fact that I'd like to stay married (and Dave Ramsey has my home address), I'm also looking for less expensive options so I can choose a few different colors. Suggestions?

If you were forced to grab just a handful of pieces to call your "wardrobe," what would you pick?

My Little Mac-in-a-Box

Who knew it could be the highlight of a little boy's day to spend time in a diaper box? After several attempts at getting in on his own, I plopped Mac down in his new favorite spot. Then I watched the fun begin.

Mac found so many ways to enjoy his time here:

He "read" his favorite book.

Then he gave it a nibble. Well, a toothless nibble.

He folded the flaps up and down.

He sampled the delicious cardboard.

He flailed his arms with excitement.

He waved at the dog, who thought we were both nuts.

When it was all done, he paused for a few deep thoughts.

All in all, not a bad afternoon! Who needs actual toys?

Jordan Catalano = Tim Riggins

In 1995, Jordan Catalano was the stuff dreams were made of - in my middle school, at least.

Brooding, blue-eyed and misunderstood, Jordan was the enigma who captivated My So-Called Life's Angela Chase. And every female primetime viewer between the ages of 12 and 22.

The moment Jordan finally held Angela Chase's hand in the hallway was life-changing.

My ears have yet to recover from the estrogen-fueled shrieks emitted by my English class as we watched it. (How we got to watch this during classtime I'll never understand.)

Seeing it at twenty-something is decidedly less momentous, but it's a nostalgic flashback nonetheless. Fifteen years later, you can even buy a t-shirt declaring your love for the erstwhile Jared Leto. (Who has since gotten really weird. RIP, Jordan Catalano.)

Or you could just tune into Friday Night Lights, where Tim Riggins has been sulking and skipping class since 2006. Could he be Jordan Catalano for a new generation?

I'm several years late to the FNL frenzy, but after hearing lots of watercooler buzz, I sat down with B last month to give it a whirl.

Two weeks (and nearly two full seasons) later, I've concluded that Tim Riggins is Jordan Catalano: Popular but still an outsider. Avidly avoids academics. Same hair, same absent parents, same questionable evening activities. Even more heart, athleticism and chivalry, though, so ladies beware.

And if you think about it, Tim Riggins is really just a younger (and less stranded-on-an-island) version of LOST's Sawyer.

Gruff with a heart of gold. Ladies' man with a clever nickname for everyone. No stranger to a bar fight. Hair that always looks like it could use a wash. Endearing smirk and easy to forgive.

I haven't finished FNL yet, so I'm still wary of any trips to Sydney for our favorite Dillon Panther. If he buys a flight on Oceanic 815, I think we know what comes next...