Turkey Day Ramblings… Put aside your differences and pass that wine!

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Here we are America.  The Holiday season has begun.  It’s the eve of Thanksgiving.

The eve of commemorating the 1621 celebration at Plymouth in which the Pilgrims and the Puritans came together and broke bread.  They put aside differences.  They put aside conflicting thoughts.  They put aside potentially contradictory religious beliefs.  And they got the party started.  (Cue Black Eyed Peas, Let’s Get it Started).

They passed the potatoes and they poured the wine.  (And although the textbooks don’t mention it) I’m assuming that they then slipped into sweats and made some inappropriate memories over a game of Cards of Humanity.  It was the first Thanksgiving after all, right?

…………………….

Fast forward almost 400 years and I want to challenge everyone to get back to basics and get the party started.  Whether you believe in pant suits, or spray tans or neither…  Whether you believe that Bruce is a She or Caitlyn is a He….  Whether you believe in Crest or Colgate, Hunts or Heinz, mayo or miracle whip… Whether you think it’s more the fault of “Bran” or less the fault of “gelina.”  Whether you see the dress as gold and white, or blue and black…  Whether you like apple, or pumpkin or pecan pie… let’s do it up like the Pilgrims and Puritans did hundreds of years ago.

Let’s put aside what makes us different and focus on what makes us the same… the need to be thankful!

Let’s be thankful that being thankful is the common thread for all of us.  Let’s be thankful that we all have the right to be different.  Let’s be thankful for good friends and good family.  Let’s be thankful for Mean Girls and the burn book (because who doesn’t love that movie?).  Let’s be thankful that the bad days make us more grateful for the good days.  Let’s be thankful that our differences are what continue to make this country great.  Let’s put on our fat pants.  Let’s pour the wine.  Let’s make is a great Thanksgiving!

Friends, let’s Plymouth Rock this holiday!

Xoxo

Erin

PS  I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the two awesome kiddos of mine sweetly sleeping in their beds.  They make my heart incredibly grateful every single day!  I’m also thankful for coffee (obviously), a rockin husband, great family and friends, a really cool job and Amazon Prime.

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Dear Mitchell, a very important note for you

Dear Littlest love of mine,

In all the chaos of you and your sister, it appears that I forgot to teach you something very important.  I’m so sorry!  Hopefully this note will make up for it.  Read it, take notes, and for the love of all things Mickey Mouse please try to follow each and every step…

 

How to sleep through the night:

1.) Take a bubble bath (I’ll do most of the heavy lifting with this step buddy, you just try to not pee on me).

2.) Slip into cozy jammies and an overnight diaper.

3.) Enjoy 7 ounces of your lukewarm & delicious nighttime bottle.

4.) Close those pretty blue eyes.

5.) Roll over & snuggle in.

6.) Dream of airplanes, baseballs, puffs, whatever floats your baby boat…

7.) Keep those eyes closed.

8.) Wake up when the sun comes up, and not a minute before then (please, pretty please).

That’s how you do it.

 

See you in the morning.

Love,

Your tired mama

xoxo

Never Eat Alone

Hello Irony,

Nice to see you.

A few weeks before maternity leave I made a one-click Amazon order for the book Never Eat Alone.  What was I thinking?  Not only have I not made it past the first page, but I’ve also never disagreed more with a book title in my life.  Never Eat Alone… are you kidding me?!?  I want nothing more than to eat alone.  Quietly.  Without food to cut up.  Without a newborn to bounce up and down.  And without epic negotiations that involve rounds of ‘one more bite’ in return for godforsaken Frozen fruit snacks (thank you Disney).

Is this what Keith Ferrazzi was referring to?

In fact Eating Alone sounds so amazing that on my first day back to work I might lock myself in the conference room, dim the lights, sit quietly and slowly savor my very own sandwich.  The sandwich would be mine, all mine!  Not leftover from Kenz and not in the shape of Elmo.

But then I think about the two little people in our lives and all the ways they make our mealtimes crazy… Kenzie’s cute lunchtime chatter, Mitchell’s dinnertime coos and their cute jammie breakfast attire.  And with just two weeks left before I go back to work I better embrace the craze these two munchkins create.  I’m pretty sure that before I know it I’ll be spending countless days eating alone at my desk while I blast out e-mails just so I can leave on time and get back to my meal crashers.

So until then, bring on the craze kiddos… the spills, the chatter, the whines and even the chewy sugar-covered Olaf treats.  This mom is really going to miss these days of never eating alone.

XOXO

Erin

PS  If anyone has cliff notes for the book, please pass them along to me.

 

Struggling

When I started this blog one of my goals was to be real about things.  So here goes:

I’m struggling today.  I’m struggling big time.  Being a Mom is so darn hard.  There is nothing horrible happening in my life right now.  In fact I feel bad even writing this post because from an outsider my life is about as good as it gets – two healthy babies, a great husband, 12 weeks of stay-at-home-momming it – yet despite this I’m struggling today.

Last night was a long night.  Mitchell can’t get to the pantry because of the baby gates so I spent about 5 hours being his personal line chef.  He spent the whole night crying because he was hungry to then crying because he was full.  In between he would shower both of us in a spit-up bath to try to find the happy medium.  It took him the whole night to find it.  Poor little guy.  By the time I got to bed it was time to wake up and I’m yet to brush my hair or wash my face.  Our plans for the day got scrapped and instead I chugged the largest cup of coffee I could find and we shifted to survival mode.

So now I’m using the always amazing nap time break as a chance to eat chocolate and get real on the blog because I have a feeling I’m not the only mom who has struggled like this.  I have a feeling I’m not the only Mom who has felt overwhelmed, exhausted and just downright ready for a break.  And I have a feeling I’m not the only mom who feels bad feeling even feeling this way because we’re so darn lucky to even be Moms.

So when these two little ones wake up I’m hitting the Reset button on the day.  I’m going to brush my hair (thank God!), throw out the frustration, push past the tiredness, turn on Pandora (because who can resist being in a good mood when 80’s music is blasting?) and make sure that my babies have a better mom for the second half of the day than they did during the first half of the day.

Reset button

I don’t know what to tell you to avoid these struggles, but I think the days like this make the other times even better.  But if you’re struggling today hang in there.  Drink a coffee, find some chocolate, turn on some tunes, or just lock yourself in the bathroom for five minutes and breathe.  You are not alone (literally because I’m guessing your kiddos are banging on the bathroom door by now).  But truly, you are not alone in feeling this way.  Being a mom is just about the hardest job on the planet and it may not come with a manual but we all have a reset button… you might just have to look for it buried beneath your layers of burp cloths.

XOXO

Erin

 

Game Seven

Game Seven… two words that make any sports fan, or perhaps I should say, anyone with a pulse, feel the excitement of what is about to happen.  Game seven is the ultimate Go Big or Go Home.  Game seven means putting it all out there.  Game Seven means a once in a lifetime chance to make a dream come true.  Game Seven… it’s pretty cool.

game seven

It’s pretty cool if you are a Major League Baseball player about to make a childhood dream come true.  If you are that Major League baseball player, it’s okay to put massive pressure on yourself.  If you are that Major League baseball player, it’s okay to put every single ounce of your being out there.  If you are that Major League baseball player it’s okay to compare yourself to others.  If you are that Major League baseball player it’s okay to wallow over defeat, and celebrate if victory comes your way.

But if you are not that Major League baseball player… if you are just a Mom (and believe me I am not minimizing Moms by saying “Just a”)… then it’s time we quit playing like it’s game seven.

Somehow between the picturesque Pinterest wreaths, the #noFilter Instagram shots we see of the happy families relishing their third trip of the year to DisneyWorld, and the photos we all post on Facebook of the perfect parties, the hand-sewn costumes, the amazing table set-up and the brand new 5-bedroom houses in the burbs, the game of Mommy-ing has started to feel like a lot of Game Sevens.

I know that I’m just as guilty as everyone else of posting the highlight reel of our life, but I think it’s causing us all to strike out.  Just today I had a conversation with another Mom about how hard it is to stay afloat as a working mom, let alone have time to select and carve pumpkins, make treat bags for daycare and intricately design fall foliage craft projects for the grandparents.  C’mon now!  I’m betting that the only Moms who can accomplish this HAVE to be taking some type of performance-enhancing drugs (can we please get some random drug testing on that perky blond Mom from Kindercare?)

I bet that more often than not many of us just get by.  All while feeling like we’re never enough… never enough of a Mom, never enough of an employee, never enough of a wife, and never enough of a You.  And if you feel that way, it is okay!  In fact I think it’s pretty darn normal.

Mommy-ing is not an easy career.  Some days we get lucky and hit a home run, but most days it’s hard work.  There’s no glamour, no relief pitchers, and no amount of Icy Hot to make up for the challenges and learning that accompanies raising little leaguers.

So for tonight… get your game face on!  Cheer for the Giants or the Royals.  Get swept of in the excitement and the drama that accompanies the rare Game Seven of the Fall Classic.

But tomorrow… stop looking at the score board, stop comparing yourself to the other team, and start reminding yourself why you wanted to be drafted into the Mom Leagues to begin with.  Mommy-ing is not about a once-in-a-lifetime win, mommy-ing is about all the experiences you and your kiddos get along the way.  So practice hard, learn from the losses and celebrate the little wins.  I’m still a rookie myself, but I’m betting that your little sluggers could care less about the Moms a few benches over, they’re just glad to be a part of YOUR team.

little league

Now Play Ball!

 

 

It’s not you, it’s us.

Summer rocks!!

Picnics, parades, pool parties…

7_4 parade flag baby

Sweet sweet summertime, baby!

…and pathetic excuses why we leave social events early or even worse, we don’t even show up.  Tell me I’m not alone on this!

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It wasn’t long ago that Denny and I were quite the party couple. We were champs when it came to beer-related sports and we often stayed around for Last Call.  But with all good things in life, that era came to an end and to be honest I don’t really miss it.  Life has become WAY more fun with our Makenzie, but when it comes to the social scene our attendance is dwindling drastically and I don’t know why.

From Monday at 7:20 am to Friday at 5:15 pm, we’re on our A-game.  Kenzie gets in her car seat like a champ and we zip around town – baby-sitter, work, work baby-sitter, drive-thru, errands – lather, rinse, repeat x 5.  We are generally on-time, generally put together and generally reliable.  (Please note the vague nature of the word generally.)

Then Friday evening rolls around and shit gets crazy (excuse my language Mom).  We run late for parties, we leave picnics early and sometimes we don’t even make it at all.  I can think of two social activities in the past 10 days that we said we would attend yet didn’t even make it out to door.  Ugh!

Here’s generally how it works:

  • Receive an invite – Absolutely, we’ll be there!
  • Social event gets closer – Yay, we’re still planning on it
  • Social event day rolls around and inevitably something happens – Fever, puke, unexpected family visits or the inability to wrangle a little munchkin in her carseat without epic meltdown from aforementioned munchkin and/or parents
  • Sulk back into house, send obligatory “I’m sorry we suck” text and spend next hour feeling like a rotten friend/sister/neighbor
  • Social event Fail!

 

picnic table

We’ve become those people.  The better ask someone else to bring desserts because the McGees will no show people

Overbooking is partially the reason (my fault completely), but the other part of this is a complete mystery to me.  Frankly it’s quite embarrassing.  Is this normal for new-ish parents?  How the heck do we drop the ball so much on the weekends?   Does this get better?  Or will our sub par reliability levels earn us a spot on the B list or even worse the no list?

To our remaining friends (are you still out there?) we miss you and we hope that we can see you soon!  I’m sorry we’ve blown you off.  It’s not you, it’s us (I swear!).  But we just don’t how do we fix it?!?  Help!!  Any suggestions, let me know.

Slacker love,

Erin (the once reliable, turned flaky Mom)

 

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A day at the park?!

Holla toddler Moms,

A relaxing day at the park sounds lovely, right?  

You mean toddler Moms don’t get to relax like this at the park?

Wrong!  Grab your sneakers, the diaper bag, your SuperMom cape and perhaps some Xanax.  It’s playground season!  

And maybe I’m just a Rookie Mom but the park is a scary place.  Let me tell you why…

:: High-Low game ::

The playground for a toddler Mom is actually like a giant chess board.  One wrong move and it’s game over.  From my experience (or lack thereof) there appear to be 2 schools of thought when monitoring your tiny tots at the p-ground.

Theory One: Stay High – Some experts suggest that you stay directly behind that toddler as they run across the bridges and up the metal steps.  The good news is that you are one step behind them if they lose their balance.  The bad news is that said toddler is always just one slide away from complete and total freedom.  Undoubtedly your oversize Mom butt will get stuck going down the slide and in this time your kiddo could potentially sprint across the playground.  Fail!

Theory Two: Stay Low – The competing theory is to stay on the ground as your toddler races through the metal jungle gym.  Theoretically you will be one step ahead and you’ll be there to scoop up your kiddo as the bottom of the slide.  But being on the ground isn’t ideal either… one wrong move and your kid is on a breakaway through the twists and turns of the playground.   Do you climb the ladder and chase them, or try to run around the playground and then anticipate which slide they’ll go down?  Either way it’s playground Checkmate.

playground 2

How fast can you race around the perimeter of the playground? Not fast enough!

:: Bad example bullies ::

Got a toddler who loves to imitate everything you do and say?  Perfect!  The playground seems to be a breeding ground for bad-ass tweens that like to jump from the 10-foot platforms and run the wrong way up the slide.

bully with words

Grandma’s gonna love your kiddos new vocabulary!

:: Drop-offs ::

Speaking of 10-foot falls, why MUST all playgrounds have those large openings to allow kids to rappel from the metal playground sides?  Seems fun for Spiderman, but what about our wee baby toddlers?  These are NOT cool!

toddler mom heart attack zone

So there you have it.  Call me crazy… call me overprotective… call me a helicopter parent… but I think the playground can be a scary place for toddler Mom.

Will this fear stop me from visiting the slides and swings with my fearless tot?  Heck no!  But I’m going to have to strategize a little better when it comes to staying one step ahead of Makenzie.

And as for the saying about a Day at the park… I’m pretty sure this false representation of a relaxing day was created by the same person who coined the phrase sleeping like a baby.  Maybe they should change it to sleeping like a toddler Mom!   Nighty night!

 

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Need some wine after your trip to the playground?  

The bottle is always half full at Mommy McBlog

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Truth be told…

I’m throwing out my “keeping the bottle half full” rule and replacing it with a tall glass of Pinot Honesty.

Truth be told…

Tonight is annoying.  Tonight I am cranky.  Tonight I am NOT a happy camper.  And tonight I have no legitimate reason why.  So I called in the big guns to deal with my medical semi-emergency.

Cue my girl, Doc McStuffins.

The Doc is In!!

Time for my check-up!  She’s gonna check my ears, check my eyes and find out how much I’ve grown.  Sure enough, Doc found some symptoms:  irritability, worried husband who thinks he did something wrong, fatigue, and general urge to run away by myself to Target even if for just 30 minutes.

Doc thought about it and then realized the diagnosis:  A General case of Sick-of-being-an-adult-itis.  Yikes!  This is one for the Big Book of Boo Boos.

According to Doc, Moms occasionally feel burned out after day in and day out of busy schedules, never-ending to do lists, a house that doesn’t clean itself and constant meal planning, baby bag packing, dishwasher emptying, and general need for making decisions.  

Luckily it’s very curable.  The treatment includes: sweat pants, a two-hour liquid diet of Riesling, an early bedtime and a round of take-out the next day to avoid a nasty flare up of ‘what the duck is for dinner tonight-itis’

So on that note, I’m checking out of life and pretending to be my 20-year-old self for just a few hours.  I’m gettin’ ca-razy and I’m going to bed without my shirt ironed, without my K-cup placed strategically next to my to-go cup, without my lunch packed and without a dinner plan for tomorrow.

Will I regret this night of irresponsibility tomorrow at 5:35 am?  You bet!

But by then my nasty 12-hour cranky-mom-atosis will be gone and I’ll return to my regular condition of Incredibly Thankful for all the awesome things we have going on in our world.

Once in awhile, feel free to let your bottle be half empty (especially if it’s your favorite bottle of wine).  It makes you a human.  And even Super Moms need to rest their capes once in a while.

 

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Cranky, Party of one… your early bedtime awaits!

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You Asked For It

This week = major writer’s block.
So I asked each of you, my awesome blog readers, what to write about and you actually answered (I know, I’m shocked too)!   Requested topics ranged from Kenzie’s stance on US/Russia relations to poop stories.  It was too hard to pick just one topic so I figured I touch on all of them.
……

Welcome to the 1st ever Mommy McBlog

you asked for it mommy mcblog

Segment!

(Almost more exciting than a trip to the dentist)
Request #1 – Melissa requested flashback stories about some of the random bad luck events of my life.
melissa fb pic

Request #1 came from Melissa from Ohio – Awesome sister, Mom to 2 cutie pie boys and frequent user of hashtags! #SheRocks

Good question Melissa.  I’ve had my share of random bad luck adventures, but since I already embarrassed myself on last weeks’ post, I’ll keep this short.
Some of my most memorable stories include…
  • Getting a severe case of the chicken pox in high school after claiming that I was immune.  Clearly my Dr’s stellar immunity diagnosis was wrong but I survived the embarrassing time in my life thanks to the brilliant Aveeno anti-itch creams!  Now if only there was an anti-humiliation cream…
  • Being stuck in an elevator on the last day of a Pittsburgh internship.  My boss thought I was taking a long lunch and didn’t realize I was missing, but help eventually arrived and I was set free in about 30 minutes.  Thanks to cell phones, Denny kept me company, and in honor of the ordeal he called a radio station later that day and requested the song Love in an elevator.  So thoughtful!
  • And speaking of random internship stories, I got stuck in midtown Manhattan during the massive NE blackout.  After a brisk 8 mile walk over the Brooklyn Bridge I found out that my apartment building was on lock down so I enjoyed a great night sleep in a car.

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Request #2 – Lori requested a post about how my sanity would be lost without my mom girlfriends.

Request #2 came from Lori from Buffalo.  She once dressed as the White House Easter Bunny.  Since retiring her fluffy tail, she spends her days being an awesome mom and friend.  She also did a stand-up comedy skit while in her final trimester.  #Sherockstoo

Request #2 came from Lori from Buffalo. She once dressed as the White House Easter Bunny. Since retiring her fluffy tail, she spends her days being an awesome mom and friend. She also did a stand-up comedy skit while in her final trimester. #SheRocksToo

What can I say?  Lori is totally correct.  Without mom friends, my sanity would be more lost than it already is.  Fellow mom friends are THE best things since Spanx, girl scout cookies and the Cartwheel app combined (whoa!).
There are few other people in this world who don’t judge when your infant comes to lunch and screams the whole time (not that I know this)… who don’t judge when you admit that your kid ate cat food, yet again… and who don’t judge when you’re still wearing maternity pants a year after your baby was born…
For that reason, I say Cheers to mom friends (in particular, Cheers to Lori, one of the best Moms and one of the best friends out there!)
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And last (but not least)
Request #3 – Seth requested to know about Kenzie’s stance on US/Russian relations in view of the current military escalation in Ukraine.  Or he requested another poop story.  Either or.
Seth

Request #3 came from Seth from Virgina.  According to Facebook Seth almost bought tickets for the Goo Goo Dolls, Daughtry, and the Plain White Tees, but then realized he would have to go to watch the Goo Goo Dolls, Daughtry, and the Plain White Tees.

Tough question Seth, but I’m glad to hit on both hard-hitting topics.

According to Makenzie, she recognizes that this situation could have vast global implications, especially for those countries reliant on Russian oil and natural gas.  She feels that Obama should leave the door open for diplomacy to resolve the situation, but believes Russia will face increasing isolation and deeper sanctions if it continues to pursue its current course.  But lastly and most importantly Makenzie strongly urges Obama and Putin to put aside their differences by drinking juice and watching the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  Hot dog, hot dog, the problem’s solved!

And when it comes to poop stories, there are plenty to share but most recently was the brown surprise Makenzie made during bath time.  Talk about vast global implications!  She’s at risk for isolation if she continues down this road of unexpected gas ruptures in the tub, but I foresee a treaty on the horizon (ideally by her later toddler years).  And to quote my favorite sister and hashtag user regarding this situation… #BabyRuthMadeABabyRuth

Talk about #Gross

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And on that note, Thanks for visiting the first ever You Asked For It post.  There might just be more to come in the future!

 

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The Dirty Little Secrets of a Mommy McBlogger

Greetings from Mommy McBlog world!

Now that we’re all done shaking our shamrocks for the year, I wanted to share about a little flashback I had this week.
It all started with a minor mouth surgery on Thursday – overall it was uncomfortable, slightly painful and something I hope to never repeat.   But I had one nasty side effect even the Dr didn’t see coming, and that side effect was a flashback to Junior High.  Yikes!

Join me as we go back 20ish years…  O.J. was getting chased, Nancy Kerrigan was getting clubbed, coffee was being sipped by our Friends at Central Perk, and I was having the same minor mouth surgery that I had last week.  Same experience pretty much –  overall it was uncomfortable, slightly painful and something I hope to never repeat.  But in Junior High having mouth surgery meant something WAY worse than discomfort.  Having mouth surgery in Junior High meant being completely and totally shunned from the Friday night game of Spin the Bottle.  Gasps!  Oh the horror!

Thinking back to these days made me reminisce about all kinds of humiliating experiences and bad decisions that I faced in my youth.  And now that I have millions, thousands, a few blog followers (Hi Mom!) I thought it would be best for me to come clean with the skeletons in my closet before Perez HIlton finds out.  So here goes:

The Dirty Little Secrets of a Mommy McBlogger

I’m a…

  • Spin the Bottle rejectee – Yep, the above story is a true story.
  • Troll collector – Yeah, I know.  Troll collecting is almost worse than saying I did illegal drugs.  It’s creepy and uncomfortable but likely these freaky dolls are a thing of my post.  
    • trolls mommy mcblog

      Creeeeeeepy

  • Former perm victim – I once rocked the body wave, or should I more appropriately say that the body wave rocked me.  Either way it was awful and I’ll never go back to those dark days of my life.
  • Former Headgear wearer – Speaking of embarrassing situations of my youth, I’m admitting that I wore headgear.  And not just any headgear, I wore the really awful kind that went around my head and left big marks in my hair.  My sister threw magnets at me and hung Christmas ornaments from me during the minimum of 14 hours per day I had to wear it for almost one year.  But it wasn’t all bad because I was allowed to take it off when I saw Boyz II Men in concert.  Score!  Turns out It’s Not so hard to say goodbye to yesterday when yesterday includes trolls and headgear.
This wasn't me but I wore headgear just like this.  Fashion forward bitches!

This isn’t me in the picture but I wore headgear just like this.
Fashion forward bitches!

  • Recovering Late-aholic – The first 20+ years of my life I was late for everything.  But I finally admitted I had a problem, went through the 12 step process to overcome it and I’ve been relatively clean ever since.  I do relapse occasionally but who doesn’t when you have kids?

And lastly…

  • I was a serious late bloomer – I believed in the tooth fairy way too long, I slept with my stuffed animals way too long and I got boobs way too late.  In 8th grade I was actually dubbed the Founder of the Itty Bitty (you-fill-in-the synonym for boob) committee.

There you have it.  I’ve now come clean with my deep dark secrets of youth.  Nothing scandalous really, just some seriously dorky experiences that I now look back on as opportunities to “build character.”  And luckily I’ve been able to gain a little more wisdom, a little more fashion sense and a bra size that doesn’t contain the same acronym as the Automobile Association of America.  Perhaps the reasons we live through the disasters of our youth isn’t so we can get kicked out of the game of Spin the Bottle, but maybe it’s so we can feel more prepared when it’s time for the real game of Life.

And sorry perez Hilton, you’ll have to keep looking if you were hoping to expose an outrageous history of a blogger.

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