#are you five years old? are you an infant? do you have brain damage?

[navree]

I would say claiming to be from a culture you are not (I don't mean you, just in general) is pretty offensive, even if it's a 'white' culture. Especially if you have never engaged with that culture and only use it as a talking point or in a "I'm so cool cause I'm not completely American because I'm from (insert place)" even if you've never been there, you can't speak the language and you can't even place it on a map. Especially if you are actually encountering someone from the culture you say you are from when again, you're actually not.

Also girl, taking AP classes in your (foreign) native language is cheating!!! Take this good humourly because my sister definitely did the same thing in our language and a French friend of mine took French. But yk what they say: work smarter, not harder. Xd

God Europeans wanna be oppressed so fucking bad. Get a hobby go outside touch grass pay reparations to the entire rest of the world for having to put up with your bullshit. Absolutely no one cares least of all me.

"take this good humourly" no :) twat :)

[yurious-george]

4'33'', by John Cage, is commonly remembered as 4 and a half minutes of silence. But contrary to popular belief, the song is not actually meant to be the sound of silence, but the sound of quiet. Ambient noises contribute to - and consist of - the performance. True silence does not exist. If one tilts their head right, the whole world sings. and, with that said, a playlist.

yeah, this one's a doozy. hi, cubewatermelon and co. miss me?

rhetorical question. don't answer that.

A few nitty-gritty things out of the way, first. this is specifically intended for the 2018 mod team for the sleepless domain fans discord server, primarily cubewatermelon/mary cagle. Folks who knew me are welcome to look on, but I'm not going to do much to catch people up to speed. hi, everyone! hope you're well!

I also might be a bit disjointed or biased in my recollection. For reasons that will be made clear extremely soon, I can't put my childhood on a linear timeline. I can only express myself, and hope I don't mess it up horribly this time.

Noooowww to the big stuff. re: stalking; i genuinely didn't mean to stalk anyone, and when they told me to back off, i backed off. I am not willing to discuss this further. not being able to conceptualize other people's emotions or the consequences of my actions has caused some problems for me

that's an autism thing btw. im autistic i dont think i told anyone that

And now, the special guest you've all been waiting for: a big round of applause for the elephant in the room! In accordance with the WMA Declaration of Tokyo, the deliberate overprescription of psychotropic medication is a form of pharmacological torture. Most victims of pharmacological torture and experimentation are children, because it is nigh-impossible to sue for brain damage when there is no fully-formed adult brain for comparison prior to the abuse.

Torture is a strong word, but I don't have another word to use. psychiatric abuse usually describes mistreatment in psychiatric wards; pharmacological abuse describes a patient who takes advantage of a prescription; medical abuse is when a doctor (usually physically) abuses their patient. Being able to understand what happened to you is a form of agency, and I don't even have the words. I identify as a torture victim; this may change.

This high dose was precedented and legal, but the vaginal stretching of intersex infants is also legal. much involuntary psychiatric & psychotropic treatment (such as restraints and solitary confinement) are legal, and child marriage is legal. abuse is not abnormal: it is profoundly normal. Because something is normal, legal, and precedented does not prevent it from being torture.

and when your mother hands you a poison apple and says "here, eat this; it will be good for you; i hope someday you'll forgive me" you have to eat it, because you are eight years old and you don't get to argue with your mother. despite all this, I don't blame my aunt for refilling the high dose. when I said the dose was hurting me, she listened. (thank you, auntie. i wouldn't have gotten out without you.)

And this brings us to you. oh, you four. (five? i forget myself!)

I'd like to establish some context. I was used to things getting taken from me. friend groups in particular: I didn't expect to keep any friends, because I constantly expected to have to pack up and move on. I moved a lot in my childhood, and in Africa, i was constantly told that at some undetermined point in the near future, i'd have to go back to the states. living with my aunt was a temporary thing, i was expected to eventually move back in with my parents at some undetermined point in the future. I relied heavily on online friends because they were people I could have anywhere, so online communities were my only lifeline - not to mention, i was basically in solitary confinement while in Kenya.

Most of all, I was terrified of my mental health/actions being exposed, examined, found lacking, and ultimately excluded. (this is why i was so afraid of psychiatric wards.) When you decided something had to be done about me - cutting me off from the server so i had to speak with you - It was either comply with your demands to communicate (which I could not, and did not understand why) or lose the community. I was so, so afraid of you i wanted to die when you all confronted me, and of course i couldn't say that, because only manipulative people would say "your attempt to solve this problem makes me want to seriously hurt myself."

But then I got called manipulative anyway <3 yay <3

Seriously: I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone, and i have no idea how you can manipulate someone without intention. (ah, that felt good to say!) Between medication spellbinding, alexithymia, and prior abuse, all my thoughts were so disordered i genuinely couldn't explain myself most of the time. Looking back, I have no childhood memory where I was fully lucid. I leaned into a manic persona because it was the only way I had any agency at all. I was something beyond both reason and self-recognition, and I willingly tried to brute-force my way through an extreme trauma response to please you. And you still hit me with my worst nightmare. that's why i was mad at you lol

I was so, so afraid, all the time, and I didn't even have the tools to understand I was afraid. How could someone as confident and impulsive as me be so fearful all the time? Was that manic persona freedom? Or was it a longer leash?

(Forgive my impulse toward rhetoric. I shouldn't ask questions you can't answer.)

I also couldn't say how badly i was hurting, because that would be venting, but you also accused me of venting when I was just talking about my day? or what was on my mind? I didn't understand that very well. autism moment, don't bother explaining it now. I also couldn't burden people with my actual mental health problems, because making strangers deal with that would be toxic! I resent you for setting up a system where it seemed safest not to speak and then punishing me for my inability to communicate. I resent every system that set me up for failure and punished me for failing, including yours.

And yet - I know that was not your intent! I can see in retrospect how hard you tried to be kind using the tools you had. The people with power over me, who genuinely did not want to do me harm and gave me multiple second chances, still upheld and facilitated the systems that tortured me; a miniature parody of the psychiatric system. (talk therapy and communication are useless if you struggle with self-awareness.) The same is true for the source: No person in my psychiatric treatment wanted me to suffer, and yet, here I am: a torture victim without a torturer. (except my parents, sort of.)

The logical conclusion, then: the system only intends to heal those who are already compliant, or prioritize compliance. The rest of us are treated to induce compliance, and if we still cannot, we are sequestered away. My medicine made me sick, and my prescribers made money off of keeping me sick - off of my torture. This is not a conspiracy: it is my lived experience.

However, even if i could communicate perfectly, we still would have had massive communication issues. Like - you know that one page where ben and steffi talk about dating, and ben says he thought steffi was gay? and steffi gets super defensive and it escalates into a screaming fight? I found that offensive, because a character getting that offput by the concept of not liking men (or a man) is kind of lesbophobic! But I understood that it would be a pain to redraw/write the page so they they fight about something else, don't fight, or some other solution, so i didn't need it to be fixed - just wanted to point out that was a reasonable interpretation, and one to be aware of in the future. but somehow my concerns got interpreted as a phrasing issue…? like, Ms. Cagle rewrote the page to say "weren't into guys" instead of "gay"..? You were very polite about it, Ms! But I found this interaction so baffling I didn't even try to correct it. that… wasn't what i said…

frankly we should bring back mildly homophobic steffi. twas narratively appropriate (<- different essay for a different time)

but yeah the whole communication operation was doomed from the start. rip!

The issue was always my inability to communicate, but my meds made it nigh-impossible to understand what I was feeling, and when I did, expressing myself could get me institutionalized. My suffering was inevitable but always, somehow, my fault. Awesome! *disintegrates into a pile of sand*

I cannot deny I was a girl like a box of matches waiting to be struck. You had no choice but to do as you did. But is it really what you ought to have done? (On this, I have no answer. I hope you have one that satisfies you.)

(that was genuine, by the by. i've spent a lot of time pondering this mess, and I still haven't found the "right" answer. I don't think there is one - though action or inaction, there is no version of this story where I don't suffer. I can only hope it was worth it. wait, hold on *adds the omelas child to my Kin List*)

Nor can I deny making my previous open letter in a small attempt to 'get back' at you - i'm not above that. lord knows i'm not innocent. but i really was trying to channel that rage into something productive. unfortunately i was doomed to fail because i didn't know what i meant. if you showed me that letter now, you'd hear a lot of "what? I don't know why I said that" "i have no idea why i would complain about something so minor" etc. You can disregard all that. This is what I was trying to say. the obsession, the trauma, the projection: all of it. So much of my obsession was talking around an issue i couldn't identify.

(meguka image) I know now

I knew I would be traumatized by this whole situation. I saw it coming and i could do nothing to stop it. But Gear was crucial to deciphering all this - in fact, suddenly thinking about her last year prompted me to really dissect my medical situation and realize i was tortured. I couldn't have done it without her. cassie & maggie, against the world.

Gear scans surprisingly well as a victim of long-term torture, actually. I don't think you meant to do that but good job!

speaking of her - i still don't think she's consistently suicidal. she's a real cockroach of a character, and I love her for it! But sometimes, i want to die and i want to live mean the same thing, because they both mean i need to get out of here. Imo, her thought processes and desires frequently contradict themselves, like mine did. and making your favs kill themselves in increasingly gruesome ways is really fun catharsis!

But please don't take this to mean I consider myself - or Gear - blameless. I love her because she's not blameless, because she's cruel for fun, because she'd rather be wicked than helpless. Like knows like. What I mean to say is, as of 2018, there is a black space between little Margret and Gear, and I saw all the signs of something very, very bad happening in that space. I know because I shared that space. what I mean to say is, teenage girls don't go out of their minds over nothing. Everything I made here is just an expression of what I heard in the narrative's silences.

and thus my biggest apprehension around revisiting the comic. knowing the author and I have such fundamentally different experiences with mental health - what if the signs of torture i picked up on weren't intended, or i completely made them up? what if, in the parts i haven't read yet, there's information that uproots my entire interpretation, or berates her for refusing mental health services that hurt me profoundly? how do you reconcile that a character so crucial to deciphering yourself may not be anything like you at all? I Don't Know. Shitpost, probably

You're welcome to share those shitposts and whatnot by the way. Creating this let me put down years of hurt, and i hope it relieves you, too. I don't need to go back on the server, or forgiveness, or anything besides understanding. consider this a peace offering. the terms are yours.

Despite writing nearly 10k words, I still probably missed something or was callous or whatever. Self-expression and self-understanding are… new to me. My apology may be understated, but please take it as I meant it, with utmost sincerity. My askbox is open, and I'm more than happy to discuss antipsych resources, KB, What The Hell Is Wrong With Gear, artistic choices made in this comic, etc. I'm even down to reconnect on discord! Maybe. Uh, I'm conflicted. I reserve my right to not want to talk, be slow in responding, and so on, as should you. we've no obligations and all the time in the world. Let neither of us hurt ourselves in meeting because it's the "right" thing to do. I'm not blaming anyone or trying to start drama. If it would give you the most peace of mind to completely ignore this, please do so.

or, translated: as of right now, I'm not ready for any information about KB after steffi reunites with her dad, or difficult emotional reunions. I would really like to hear from everyone, and I'd appreciate casual well-wishes. I don't want things to be the same, I want them to be peaceful. Baby steps, cassie, baby steps. (very large and fearful prey animal tries not to run into oncoming traffic)

mostly, making this was for me. Perhaps I've said too much, but after spending so long unable to express myself freely, my art was cathartic and necessary. I'm no one's martyr or innocent, I'm just a torture victim trying to make sense of it all. I want to articulate some thoughts I couldn't figure out how to say before and make some silly things that make people laugh. Most of all, I'm happy in ways I never thought I could be, and I would like to share that joy with old acquaintances and other fans of a story I adored.

What I mean to say is: The train's about to leave the station, and there's an empty seat beside me. The train will still leave whether or not you board; but I would be honored not to go it alone!

Thank you to everyone who stuck by me even after the drama. Ethel, Felipe, Chris - even though we've fallen out of contact, your kindness and patience meant more than i can say. special thank you to @stars-in-a-jam-jar, the first person i confessed everything to after the smoke cleared, and someone i consider myself close with no matter how long we fall out of contact. My close online friends, @shafpanda, @theoandmoon, @dvanaestmrva, my honorary cousin @my-name-is-jimmy, and everyone else I confided in about my torture. and, of course, my partners @transloo and @teenyjellyfishy, and my little sibling, @aroacenezhaanddainsleif, the three people I love most in the world. Thank you, all. it is an honor to love you, and be loved by you.

[savefrog]

Ai art is worthy of heavy critique, is potentially EXTREMELY damaging for artists and I think NFTs really showed how shallow and vapid generated artwork can potentially be. Ai Art in the hands of soulless corporations is a genuinely disgusting proposition.

But i literally cannot deal with some of the arguments i am seeing trying to argue against it on the basis of it “not being art”, as someone who has attended five fucking years of art history classes and has done art their whole life. These arguments will not win this fight and will only serve to tear down other forms of art in the process!! We can be nuanced! Let’s go through some of the ways I’ve seen people try to “define art” in the past few weeks:

- “Ai Art isn’t art because it requires thought/meaning” dadaism specifically tried to create art that was nonsensical and random ( pulling words out of a hat in essence, if not literally, was common) in a way that was intentionally “anti art”....and guess what, it was art too.

- “Ai art isnt art because it requires years of experience”  beginner artists aren’t making art??? People even study the art that infants and toddlers make and what it means for brain development, I’d personally consider it art. Also, what will happen when we have an ai that has been training for years, do we then have to define what constitutes experience?

- “Ai Art requires the skill of an artist” Readymades. Maybe you have not been in a debate over The Fountain but whether or not you like it, its art. So is Piss Jesus. and a random fucking snow shovel

Here is a description of that snow shovel which talks about how readymades re-contextualized art. You could argue that an ai artist inputting prompts is “creating by simply making choices”, as Marcel Duchamp said, making this argument A CENTURY OLD:

- “Ai Art requires the artist to directly create the art, something else is doing all of the work” bad news about many pieces of conceptual art. (Actually many pieces of art in general including many classical works but that’s moreso a debate about credit rather than human involvement.) Anyway, not really sure how to describe in full why this doesn’t work as an argument but provide an example: Here is a bot that buys things off the Dark Web. This is art too. Even if you do not accept it as art, it has been recognized as such. There are also art pieces that involve the viewer, animals, nature, etc “doing the work”. It is going to be extremely difficult to define how much of “the work” the artist has to do for it to constitute as art.

- “Ai art isn’t art because art must be entirely original” Collage. And, once again, Appropriation art as a whole.

- “Ai Art isn’t art because art elicits/requires emotion” Emotion is extremely subjective. Look, I get what you mean when you look at the 50 billionth big titty ai generated girl, but you are going to have a hell of a time demonstrably proving that it does not elicit emotion (and, well....I guess horny is an emotion 😔). I am also just not an emotional “feelsy” guy, do I not make art? Also, someone could prompt an ai with keywords that are extremely personal, input the description of a dream they had, recreate a traumatic scene from their life, etc is that not emotional enough? Is the AI art eliciting emotion by making you mad? Where do we draw a line?

- “Ai Art isn’t art because it steals and inserts pieces of others’ art rather than references” Ok this is just. factually wrong. Neural Networks do not store the original pieces or copy/paste. This image in particular drives me up a wall because that is NOT HOW IT FUCKING WORKS:

it’s ok if you hate ai art, THIS IS STILL JUST NOT HOW IT WORKS

How a neural network ACTUALLY works (and forgive me, i am not an expert in this, but this is how i understand it): it will analyze something and associate certain features to a variable (For example, anime eyes). It stores these values, not the images. After getting many many samples, it can adjust for variations (Anime eyes are something round, or sparkly, or sharp, but are all usually a white shape with a black outline and color inside with white spots). It then generates outputs using those parameters, oftentimes creating many many different versions until a desired outcome is finally reached. Ai is getting REALLY GOOD at replicating those patterns, and it might produce results a little too close for comfort when it comes to seeing a certain image over and over, but the ai is not thinking “oh and now to insert this eye from another artwork”, the ai is moreso thinking “According to my training there should be some sort of black circle here with white pixels inside and inside that is some sort of color and...” with a lot of room for variation because it is not working from an original, just patterns it noticed (although I wouldn’t put it past some companies to implement a hidden copy-pastey feature. Like how some phone cameras now automatically replace the moon with a high-res photo- (OK WAIT ACTUALLY GOOGLED THIS, IT HAS BEEN DEBUNKED LOL) But even if that were to be implemented, that is not the kind of ai art that’s being questioned here, the point is that ai art does not inherently do this) Neural Networks are literally designed to work similarly to the human brain, so it is shockingly similar to a human using a reference, though without much other intuition and context (Hence the wrong numbers of teeth, weird undefined areas, etc). The way it is TRAINED can be the use of art without permission or compensation. You can also argue that it steals an art style, this is something that I think could become a huge debate! These are worthy points of contention and something I am personally against, but also does not itself mean it is not art.

- “There’s no way to use ai art as a tool” ok but people can and have. even if you haven’t seen it personally. they have. I could use it for backgrounds in a comic, I could use it to generate color palettes or to use in a larger collage. Maybe a lot of people are not approaching it in this way, but this is a very decisive statement for something that can easily be proven false.

- “It’s not art because it’s ugly/generic/has errors/some other subjective thing” im not going to argue with you if you think art has to personally appeal to you or “be correct” to be art lol

- “Ai art isn’t art because it is bad” Art can be bad. it is still art. Morals do not effect whether something is art. So much NFT art fucking sucked, i hated it, but it was art, just shitty art. Frida Kahlo herself painted a commission intended for a grieving mother that I found very morally reprehensible (Link to the story as it contains a detailed depiction of a real suicide). it is still art.

please stop debating against ai art by trying to define art. you will lose. This is an argument that will not get us anywhere. Even if you disagree, it will not make any change. We have been there many many many times before. art cannot be neatly defined and there will always be some sort of weird exception to whatever arbitrary rule you make. And part of art is intentionally so, much art exists SPECIFICALLY to challenge definition. If you try to pigeonhole art, artists will specifically break that rule.

When photography was first invented it caused a huge upheaval. Artists were no longer required in order to depict life. No longer did you have to sit for ages for a portrait because it could be done in a fraction of the time (though taking a photo DID take a long time back then, it was comparatively WAY faster). It was thought that realistic art would be made obsolete (and remarkably, many still  value “realistic” art over other forms...) The result was the art world swerving more towards non-representational art; expressionism, impressionism, cubism, surrealism, abstract art etc. Because it was what cameras could not depict and people ultimately will always always have the urge to create.

they weren’t going to uninvent the camera. they aren’t going to uninvent Ai generated images. But we can still push for the respect of artists, push for companies to treat artists fairly and push for art posted online to not just be seen as public domain. We can fight against websites like Deviantart trying to make it “opt out” to not have your artwork sampled without your permission. We can fight against companies sampling artwork that they do not have permission to use.

The existence of ai art is not going to keep me from making my art. I will always be making art. ai will not be able to pinpoint precisely what I want and it does not replace the escapism i get from making something and testing my personal skills. it will not stop me from iterating or improving on my art (in fact, i personally love trying to redraw ai generated pokemon as it helps me break away from the generic creature “archetypes” i may get stuck in, and re-interpreting the ai blobs is fun mental exercise. I also love the bizarre dreamlike nonsense early ai generation spat out, and could see that being really effective if integrated into some larger concept.) The issue is not that people are calling the wrong thing art or doing art wrong or whatever and it’s pointless trying to universally define art and ai art.

The issue is whether i am going to be paid for my art and whether my art might be used by someone else for profit/without permission. The issue is if it’ll be possible to find work. The issue is art having to be a commodity because the world around us only values production and shallow aesthetics. The issue is companies repeatedly taking advantage of artists. The issue is that people fucking suffer when they don’t have those jobs that barely respected them in the first place. A lot of it is capitalism baby!!!!!!!!!

[shiggityontherocks]

A brief excerpt from the Beckett Flashback I just wrote for Stargate Exiles. It offers a look into his years as an A&E doctor before the SGC. I haven’t posted anything recently, but I always write 8 pages a week still. 

He’s seen xrays of children’s bones that indicate the frequent breaking and healing—all he could think about was the pain they went through, how the person who was supposed to help them only hurt them, only broke them.

That day in particular there was a four-month old infant brought in unresponsive from home. The mother had been out to lunch with friends and the father was watching the child and confessed he didn’t know what could have happened because the crying baby just stopped.

No gasp or hiccup or snort for breath.

The wail just exhaled from his little mouth and extinguished like his brain activity.

Shaken baby syndrome.

He’s never seen it before, and he never wants to see it again.

The bruising, the swelling, the fracturing.

The little one trying to communicate that something was wrong and the parent meant to care for them breaking them.

The father knew exactly what he did. 

When he had to go out and explain to the father and mother—and the hospital security, who had been called to intervene until the police arrived—exactly what happened because of the bruising, the encephalitis, the damage that effectively left their four month old son brain dead, he didn’t do a thing to stop when the wife dropped her purse and started swinging.

The husband instinctively protected himself from her fists, from the spit flinging from her mouth. 

All he could do was stop and stare, disconnected, unemotional, because where were those instincts five hours earlier when he was shaking his son to death?

“Is this what it’s going to be like, Ma?”

He sat on the couch, his head in his hands, his hair completely messed, his face greasy and pallid from lack of sleep, from crying out of frustration because this isn’t why he wanted to be a doctor.

This isn’t why he spent so many years and so much money investing on being a doctor.

He wanted to help people.

Wanted to set the casts of little children who took a tumble off of bunk beds during sleepovers, or help deliver a single mother’s baby, or do a surgery on a cardiac infarction that would save the life of a loved husband, son, and father.

He wanted to see the people in pain and help.

He didn’t want to cause more chaos in their lives.

He didn’t want whatever evil, whatever spiteful and malevolent nature that had crept its way inside of them coiling around his body and infecting him as well.

“You help the ones you can, Carson.” She had an arm around his shoulders, but he still wouldn’t raise his head because every time he closed his eyes, he saw that little 4-month-old baby with an intubation tube sticking out of his blue lips and skin the color of rotten fish.

Unmoving and silent.

[igotubabe-blog-blog]

This Is A Long One...

Hello Everyone, a LOT has happened over the last four months and I'll try and cover the essentials. I had over 20 pics ready, but tumblr only let's you put ten in a post, so we'll make due with that (but there a lot of ones I would have liked to put in). I'm going to err on the side of kid pics. And I'll try and post more frequently from here on out. Happy moments, bad news tempered by planning, and thoughts about the future below...

55th BIRTHDAY

Wow, what a day! Inga set up an amazing day for me. Friends Bryan and Hillary and their boys brought over some breakfast, then later we had a zoom call with a ton of people/friends/former colleagues from work I hadn't seen in forever. THEN ...I got my hoped-for ukelele!!! (Henry loves to play it too.) Also, I must have had close to 50 birthday cards that she organized and displayed on the wall. And chocolate cake, my favorite. Not so bad to turn 55. How did I get old like that? :)

VISITS

We have had SO many visits I apologize: many of those pics I was forced to leave out, but I wanted to include some. Aunt Kristina flew in from London, the Somashekhars came from Chicago, and Jessica from Upstate NY. She is fighting an arguably rarer and more dangerous cancer than I am. She was also my first call when I got diagnosed as I had no idea how I was going to tell Inga. I've known her over 30 years. There was the Infante family; Tracy and Shawn; Jackie and Warren; Sheila, Tim and Sunil. I'm surely forgetting some people. My apologies, it's not intentional. And several visits scheduled for July already: Kelli and Dave; Amy and Tamara; and my oldest friend Bill D. We feel grateful for all of you!

HENRY GRADUATES PRE-K!

Henry continues to grow up so fast and will enter Kindergarten in September. We got some great school pics and the red pants pics were on his graduation day, but I like the informal ones (before and after the ceremony) better than the official moments. Also, both boys look good in hats, as well as holding a uke.

HEALTH, BAD NEWS AND EFFORTS TOWARD THE FUTURE END

We've been getting bad news the last several months on tumors: they continue to grow ...*incrementally*. We were on the first chemo since Fall of 2021. In January it became clear the tumors were growing. Again: incrementally. Ideally tumors get removed and don't come back. Because mine is a spine-brain/nervous system cancer, great care is taken with surgery not to damage my spine, so I don't get paralyzed. That means they haven't been able to resect all of my tumors completely. Pieces get left behind and we try with chemo to keep those bits dormant. (We have not opted for brain surgery because those lesions are pretty small. I have about three spots in my brain, one at a very dangerous-high-trafficky spot at my brainstem), and the two in my spine have been behaving.

The first chemo did that job for awhile, but then the tumors started growing again in January. New chemo starting in January. Nope, tumors still growing. Incrementally. (Frankly, I'll take incrementally over something growing quickly, which we saw in spring of 2021.) I won't get deep into the emotional roller coaster that puts you on. Not fun with lots of crying --not in front of the kids of course. We've also had some miscommunications with the drs., as well, that made things darker. I admit my typical Pollyanna "I can beat this" even went away for a time. That has been cleared up and we are back on solid ground again. Mostly. Even I need to admit it's very unlikely I will last another five or ten years. Or one or two. ...We just don't know.

All that being said, I WILL continue to fight, and do my exercises. I understand how unlikely it is I will get my legs back, but it's something to strive for. I will start the new chemo in July. Fingers crossed. We have started making videos of me talking about my life and thoughts that will be for the boys (thanks Jesse). I also have a book to fill out asking questions about my life, also for the boys (thanks Tamara). It's slow and yes, emotionally draining (Inga keeps away during the video sessions). Believe me, I feel terrible about leaving family behind. "Grief is the price you pay for love," as I've read and repeat in my head now and then. Yes, I've got tears rolling down my face now. But the boys are playing outside and I will join them soon. No more 'sad dad' stuff for now. My apologies if I'm making you feel bad. Chin up: it won't last. :)

Some good news: I've been able to eat a lot more and am gaining weight again. I'm aiming to break 170 soon. I had bottomed out at 149.9 lbs(!). My normal weight was 185-195 most of the last ten years. I am exercising and feel as strong as I've been in awhile. Everyone notes that the color in my face is really good, and how much (and how dark) my hair has grown back. How long will I last? Nobody knows, but I'm definitely thinking I can be ok into New Years/ 2023. Again, could be a couple months if things go sideways, two years, five I think is not impossible. Nobody knows.

We love you all. Give your family and friends your love. It never hurts to remind them of your appreciation. Until next time, take care. :)

(6/29/22)

[xenoredux]

The Legend of Silver Fang - Episode 1: The Birth

Alright, first part of the GNG rewrite aaaaayyy! As with the last rewrite, the major story beats and overarching plot are the same. This is written under the supposition that, in fantasy land, this is a mini series with episodes that run about 2 hours in length each. 

Some things to be aware of going in:

This story is violent as shit!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR: Firearms, various kinds of physical trauma, injuries to people and animals, the deaths of people and animals, search and rescue missions, self harm, animal and child abuse, and just a whole lotta spilled blood. Basically if any form of violence upsets you, it’d be a good idea not to read ahead

I was trying to achieve a decent adaptation that combines the strongest elements of the anime and manga. It will not be precisely like either and will occasionally totally deviate from both

This isn’t meant to be “better” then the canon. It’s just the way I’d go about rewriting the Akakabuto arc if I had that level of ungodly power lol

Character designs made to represent several mentioned characters can be found here and here. Others will be left up to the reader’s interpretation. A link to the next episode will also be provided at the end. If a link isn’t available, the next episode just hasn’t been posted yet!

THIS ALSO MARKS THE 34TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE ANIME SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY GNG LMAO enjoy

In the year 198somethingidk in the forests of Japan, a white Akita Inu named Shiro ("white") is tailing behind an unusually large Ussuri brown bear dubbed "Akakabuto" ( "red helmet") by the nearby village's populace due to the unusual red tuft of fur trailing down his back. Shiro is followed by his owner, a crotchety old fart named Gohei Takeda, renowned bear hunter and the world's least called out animal abuser (hint: this will become relevant later.)

Before the old man can take aim with his rifle, however, the shadowy mass from the winter darkness barrels towards him. As the dog tries to leap to his owner's defense, Akakabuto smacks off a good portion of Grandpa Point-n-Shooty's face, sending a severed human ear flying into a bloodied patch of snow. Shiro takes this as an invitation to do his best impersonation of Lassie and dives at the monstrous beast, grasping hard atop his muzzle to avoid his claws. From a nearby hill, a small red puppy watches the horror unfold.

While Shiro baits the bear, as is his job as a bear-dog, Gohei fires a bullet into the massive animal's right eye. The eyeball bursts in the bear's skull, but it also stops the bullet from traveling through his brain, instead lodging it into his grey matter and jostling around his nerve centers and pituitary gland. Understandably pissed at Gohei taking the shot, Akakabuto swipes madly at him until both himself and the dog stumble blindly off the edge of a cliff, resulting in what is surmised to be their deaths. Gohei faints in a snowbank, his vision running red with blood, as the unseen red puppy runs back to civilization to bring help.

Five years pass. Gohei continues to raise, train, and hunt with Akitas, but now it's for more then the sake of bringing home bear skins. He believes Akakabuto is still alive, and he wants revenge. The massive scar on the left side of his face is explanation enough for anyone to understand why. He continues to explore the forest near his home, now aided by several new dogs, including one of Shiro's sons, a powerful red Akita named Riki ("power" or "strength") and the same puppy who had saved Gohei's life all those years ago.

Riki has comfortably begun filling his father's shoes, enough so that he's established a reputation as one of the best bear-dogs in Japan. With a title like that, it wasn't long before Riki had been mated to an equally powerful and very pretty red brindle Akita named Fuji, and the buns he'd so kindly plopped into her oven were fit to enter the bakery of life and this analogy sucks

Fuji is not Gohei's dog. She belongs to the Fujiwaras, a neighboring nuclear family who own and operate a ski resort in the mountains. Daisuke Fujiwara, a young boy with a heart of gold and a nose of snot, has been tending to his dog during her pregnancy, and she's finally delivered what is universally understood as The Best Thing Ever: a litter of roly poly puppies! Daisuke is especially taken with the smallest of the babies, a handsome silver brindle boy, because Daisuke is a stuck up dog fancier who believes silver brindles, or Tora-Ges ("tiger striped") make the best hunting dogs. He ever-so-creatively dubs the puppy Gin ("silver") and decides the infant will do him proud someday.

But all is not well in Skiiertown. Gohei's hunt of Akakabuto isn't just motivated by vengeance. The village mayor is currently trailing behind Gohei and his dogs, discussing how the town needs money from tourists and that Akakabuto's alleged presence would surely make some of them go "yeah, no" and leave. Gohei doesn't care about the economy, but he does care that a man named Genji from the neighboring town has been mauled under """mysterious""" circumstances.

As the two oldies argue about which is more important, money or human lives, Riki scents and points out the mutilated remains of two wayward tourists, a young man and his girlfriend. He also runs defensively to Gohei's side, snarling wildly. Everyone looks around, confused. Suddenly, a flash of black and red drops from the tree branches above onto the men and dogs. As the men's screams and dogs' cries fill the air, so does a fountain of their blood.

Soon after, forest rangers in helicopters are dispatched to locate and rescue the missing persons and - if they can manage it, no pressure at all - kill the illusive demon bear before he slaughters more innocents. Daisuke watches the helicopters pass overhead and leaps onto his snowmobile, incapable of not getting involved in anything.

He makes a beeline for Gohei's now abandoned camping tent. Finding it empty, he's about to drive off elsewhere when paramedics emerge from the wall of trees beside him. The mayor, bloodied and broken, is being carried on a stretcher. Daisuke runs up to him and asks what happened to Gohei and Riki, to which he's met with a simple "Akakabuto" as the man slips from consciousness.

Daisuke rushes back home to break the news to Fuji and her puppies about what happened to their doghusband and dogdad. Daisuke holds Gin close and insists Riki can't die until he's seen his shiny Pokemon of a son, to which Gin, being literally like a day old, merely whimpers and wiggles. Gazing misty eyed at the puppy, Daisuke changes his mind. Gohei can't be dead. Riki can't be dead. No mere bear could kill a man like Gohei or a dog like Riki.

Ten days pass. Neither Riki nor Gohei's bodies have been found, but the bodies of Gohei's other dogs, Riki's eldest son Aka ("red") and friend Don, have been located by lodge personnel. The animals were mauled so severely that everyone begins giving up the ghost on this whole "finding Gohei alive" business. Besides that, the cacophanic cries from Akakabuto have frightened everyone into leaving the forest, afraid of becoming the next victims. The bear is greatly distressed - his brain damage leaves him unable to rest for more then an hour at a time, let alone hibernate, and being awake during winter is disorienting him. He runs madly around the forest, roaring and swinging his massive claws at anything that moves and also most things that don't.

While the bear plods around wreaking havoc in the night, Daisuke is dreaming. He dreams of the old man and his dog languishing somewhere in the woods, starving to skeletal husks. He dreams that Gohei, in an act of desperation, raises his gun barrel to Riki's head. The old coot, overcome with hunger pangs and a desperation to survive, murmurs an apology to his dog, explaining a dude's gotta eat. He fires off a shot in Riki's skull, killing his closest companion, before tearing savagely into the dog's flesh with his bear hands. And I do mean bear hands, as Gohei begins to turn into Akakabuto, ripping the dog's flesh, then the Earth itself to pieces.

Daisuke awakens beside a sleeping Fuji a moment later. He's absolutely covered in sweat. He laments on how fucked up his dream was as he reaches out and caresses first Fuji, then Riki's puppies, praying that at least the first half of his dream, the half in which Gohei and Riki are still alive, is true.

Unbeknownst to everyone but Daisuke's subconscious, Gohei and Riki are in fact still alive! The two managed to struggle into a ravine just out of the bear's reach, and they've been holed up ever since. Riki's back has been shredded badly, and Gohei's right leg has been broken, mauled, and rendered useless. Gohei has begun to get sick of sitting on his ass incapable of doing anything, and with an ominous glint in his eye, raises the hatchet he had been carrying in his pack above Riki's head, murmuring something about home cooking...

In a twisted, eerie parallel to Daisuke's dream, the old man brings the weapon down, but not on the petrified dog in his lap. Instead, he's sliced through his own injured leg! Having severed the useless limb from the knee down, Gohei demands Riki eat his flesh, regain his energy, and seek help at the village just as he did when he was a youngster. Riki is understandably not for this, and his resistance in the form of wailing and vomiting is loud enough to catch the attention of the red helmeted hellspawn himself. In an effort to protect his even-more-fucked-up-now owner, Riki does indeed gather the last of his energy to throw himself at the bear.

Daisuke's dad begins leading a patrol back into the forest, saying that even if they're dead, Gohei and his dog's bodies can't be left to stink up the woods. Daisuke cuddles a quickly growing Gin as he asks to go, but he's told to stay home with the puppies. After all, Fuji is coming with the crew to find her doghusband and his owner's corpses.

Diasuke pouts for the 5 minutes it takes the men to be entirely out of sight before shoving Gin into his coat and plopping himself into the seat of his snowmobile, once again refusing to be left out of the excitement. Meanwhile, Riki continues his dual with Akakabuto, experiencing the slicing and dicing of a lifetime at the hands of the fiend.

The battle between bear and dog rages on, and fresh blood from both animals spatters the fresh fallen snow. Daisuke, having vroomed on over, catches sight of this historic event from atop a hill, and without a second thought begins driving down towards the bear. He tells Gin to have a look at his father, and once Gin realizes that his dad isn't the big red bear, he's awed at his old man's strength and resilience. This thought is interrupted by Daisuke screaming a one liner and driving over an incline, sending the snowmobile flying right into the bear's face. Daisuke and Gin both bail from the vehicle, and Gin tumbles out of Daisuke's jacket.

Akakabuto appropriately gathers his bearings before lunging at Daisuke, pissed off that a child has bitchslapped him with a small car. Diasuke screams for help as a bloodied, super manly arm yoinks him quickly into the ravine. It's (obviously) Gohei! He's (as we've established) still alive, and frankly very surprised to see Daisuke here! But Riki's still in unsafe territory outside, as is...

Gin! The puppy has tumbled into the bear's path, and he's too slow and uncoordinated to run to safety. Thankfully, Riki has already thrown himself at Akakabuto to save the little lad he's only just met. Daisuke and Gohei watch helplessly as the dual continues, as does a spellbound Gin.

Riki manages to break away from Akakabuto and snag up his son, but the lack of food and the constant stress on his body have taken everything out of him, and he collapses to the forest floor, Gin clutched in his teeth. Daisuke and Gohei call out to him, encourage him to come just a bit further, begging him to save himself and his son, but he just can't do it, even with the knowledge of the puppy's lineage in mind.

In a final heroic act, Riki works every muscle he's got one last time to leap forward just enough so he can yeet his son into the ravine. His effort works, and Gin finds himself safely landing in Daisuke's trembling arms, but it's too late for Riki. As the dog gazes helplessly at his master, his friend, and his child, Akakabuto delivers a final blow to his side. The red bear sends the red dog tumbling off a nearby cliff, and Riki disappears into the black snowy depths below, followed by a trail of blood and Gohei's cries of anguish.

Pissed beyond words, Gohei drags himself out of the ravine, hatchet clenched in his fist. He's just about to tell Akakabuto to 1v1 him scrub, but then everyone hears something. It's the search party come to call, all armed with guns and thermoses of hot cocoa. Akakabuto takes one look at all those shiny boom sticks and high tails it, leaving a madly wailing Gohei behind.

Daisuke emerges from the hole with Gin in his arms, much to his own father's surprise. As the men gather to take the boy, puppy, and old man to safety, Gohei drags himself to the cliffside and weeps openly for the loss of his beloved dog and closest friend.

In a short while, Gohei finds himself on a stretcher all his own. He congratulates Fuji on her litter and Daisuke on his silver brindle puppy, assuring him that Gin will make a fine bear-dog someday. Diasuke is understandably feeling glum as Gohei is carted off to hospital, but he's emboldened by the old man's words, as is his puppy. Gin is too young to speak or even truly understand what's happened, but he knows something lifechanging has taken place.

Several weeks pass. Gin and his siblings grow larger, large enough for Daisuke to initiate training them for their futures as hunting dogs. The boy has masterminded only the most exhausting, trying test of ability for the young animals today: cross a snowy field to get to him. While his siblings flop through the ice like suffocating fish, Gin's intuitive sense of laziness takes him onto the clean-driven road, where he easily makes his way into Daisuke's admiring arms. Daisuke decides that Gin is a veritable puppy prodigy, and he refuses to ever let him go.

Before he can heap more praise onto the puppy, here comes Shinji, one of Diasuke's classmates and closest non-canine friend. Shinji comes bearing news: Gohei has left the hospital at long last. Not because the doctor cleared him to, but because the impatient inpatient insisted he couldn't wait around with his thumb up his ass (or up the wound in his leg) any longer. Akakabuto has only continued to terrorize and traumatize the village folk and their visitors.

This doesn't surprise Daisuke, who is, at anything, glad that someone still has the gumption to do something about That Asshole In The Woods. Gumption doesn't benefit everyone, insists Shinji. Given Gin's a silver brindle and demonstrably the most protagonist-y out of the whole litter, Gohei will surely come to take him someday. He's Riki's son, after all, and now that Riki is gone, someone will have to fill his pawprints.

Daisuke is preemptively heartbroken, remembering back to the first time he saw the elderly man come back into town with his dogs. Gohei had taken a blunt stick and smacked Don around with it for some unknown insolence that transpired during their last hunt. The memory sends Daisuke's stomach and emotions reeling, and he clings to Gin.

Or perhaps his heartbreak was not so preemptive, because Gohei began chugging along towards the ski lodge the moment he left the hospital parking lot. The old man barges in on the boys' conversation and snags Gin up by the scruff of his little neck. Diasuke's dad notices the commotion and busts into it, telling Gohei the doctor demanded he get 6 months more bedrest. Gohei ignores him, instead striking Gin across the face for no reason but to test how pussy the puppy is. This only causes Gin to begin chewing in anger on the old man's fingers, to which the weirdass only grins.

Daisuke isn't happy about his dog being slapped out of nowhere, but Gohei insists it proves Gin's got a fighting spirit, an inherent gameness. Not like those worthless siblings of his, who Gohei proves aren't worthy of being mentioned outside of the first arc ever again by bopping them both in the face as well. To a chorus of squealing, crying puppies, Gohei leaves, carrying Gin away.

As Daisuke cries after Gohei not to kill the dog, the old man carries the puppy out of sight. Gohei takes the puplet to his cabin, showcasing his collection of bear skulls and animal hides. He leans back from his crutches and informs Gin that he'll be trained in much the same way his father was.

Gin doesn't understand what this means until Gohei picks up a stick and starts beating the everloving shit out of him. Daisuke seems to have had a hunch this would happen, because he's followed Gohei home, and the moment he sees what he's doing to Gin, he's even more pissed then the last time he lost a game of Fortnite.

Diasuke can't keep himself from whining about "animal abuse" and how "it's not good to beat infants" and other special snowflakery, to which Gohei responds by deadass picking up his rifle. He reaches down towards the battered Gin, lifts him up beside the barrel, and fires off a shot into an ancient bear skull on one of his shelves, shattering it to splinters. The gun is so GODDAMN LOUD that Daisuke falls back from the noise, and yet the tiny Gin doesn't even flinch. He seems more mystified by the gun then scared of it, a level of comfort that Gohei remarks Riki took a year of training to achieve.

Gohei says that Daisuke can leave whenever he'd like, because this dog is too suited for the job for him to ever surrender him. Daisuke unhappily ceases arguing, but he insists on staying and watching Gin train, to which Gohei just shrugs dismissively.

The next morning, Daisuke awakens in Gohei's cabin to the sound of Gin's whimpering. He rushes outside to find Gohei trying to forcefeed Gin bear flesh, a strong smelling meat with the world's most uninviting texture. When Daisuke tries to interfere, Gohei punches the 10 year old squarely in the jaw, making it ludicrously hard for the audience to appreciate his presence. Gohei insists he's doing this to get Gin acquainted with the enemy's scent and prove to him his will to live, but all Daisuke hears is "wah wah wah me like torture children".

At suppertime that day, Gohei offers Daisuke some of the soup he's made. Daisuke says he refuses to eat until Gin does. Gin has yet to have eaten any bear meat, and Gohei refuses to back down and feed him anything else. Instead, Gohei supplements Daisuke's meal for a story about a dog he owned long before Gin was born.

The dog was a Tosa Inu named Rikiou ("king of power"), and he never knew fear, common sense, or self preservation. The first bear he ever encountered was too big for him to fight off, and, unwilling to back down for even a moment, it killed him. His head was crushed like a grape. Daisuke wavers on what this story means, but he assumes it means that if Gin wants to survive, he'll take the most logical route to do so, and that his aversion to bear meat will likely grant him more respect for bears' power in future. Gohei had no moral in mind tbh. He just likes rambling about his dogs (okay relatable)

The next morning, Daisuke decides he's done watching his puppy's samurai-training and goes home. He's back only long enough to greet his parents when everyone hears a scratching at the window. It's Gin! He followed Daisuke back home! Daisuke takes this as a sign that Gin would rather live with him then with Gohei, but he doesn't receive a chance to make this so.

Gohei comes up from behind the puppy and gives him a swift bop in the side with one of his crutches. He then snags a rope around the little pooch's neck. Gin wails miserably as the old timer takes him back to his cabin for another day of bruising and starving.

Three days later, Daisuke comes to call on Gohei once again, mostly to make sure Gin isn't dead yet. Gin isn't dead, but he IS super weak. Gohei states that the little bugger has stubbornly refused bear flesh for the past few days, which means he's had nothing to eat in nearly a week. Daisuke is at the end of his rope with this insolent boomer and starts kicking and stomping the bear meat around the room.

He straight up tells Gohei to fight him if he doesn't like it when he notices the old man looking past him towards Gin. When Daisuke turns, he realizes that Gin is finally, FINALLY eating! Now that the bear meat's been stomped on, it's soft enough for the little dude to sink his baby teeth into.

Several months pass. One day, Diasuke and Shinji are piddlefarting around town. The two become enraptured with the guns inside a weapons shop. Daisuke thinks out loud about how Akakabuto could easily be defeated if the guy who went after him had a rifle as powerful as these. His train of thought is interrupted by a man and his dog, a German Shepherd, entering the store. The man orders his dog to wait outside, and the animal follows his command with no hesitation.

The boys go to have a better look at the pooch, a young, handsome dog in a brown collar. The dog gazes boredly at the two. Shinji is impressed with the dog's obedience, but since he's neither an Akita nor a brindle, Daisuke couldn't care less.

Tired of gawking at a stranger's dog, the two head back to Gohei's place to peep what Gin's up to. "He's up to eating," Gohei basically says. But what he actually meant was "he's up to learning how to swim without breathing so he can eat the bear meat I've put at the bottom of a water basin". Which, by the way, is what Gin's doing. In fact, Gin will continue doing this exercise of his twice a day every day for several weeks, growing in muscle mass and understanding of how to not die via water inhalation.

In the meantime, Gohei sorta zones out while hovering over Gin's personal swimming pool. He mutters something about Riki training just like this to the boys, to which Shinji politely excuses himself and runs home. God forbid he stay behind to hear an old man ramble.

Daisuke, on the other hand, is a nerd who is intrigued by the knowledge Gohei possesses. He asks what it was like hunting with Riki, to which Gohei chuffs and turns away. He doesn't go into detail about his dog - he's still in mourning - but he does detail what it's like to hunt bears. It's all math and muscle memory, he says, much to Daisuke's disbelief.

Gohei asserts that the simplest way to kill a bear is to abide by The Centre Line Rule, a theory among bear hunters that states that all of a bear's weakest points are down the middle of its body when it's standing erect. Fire a shot off into a bear's chest or gut or forehead from dead center, and you'll learn why it's called "dead" center. Daisuke doesn't know if he believes the boomer, but he rolls the idea around in his head as he watches Gin collect his soggy rations.

After a bit of time passes, Gohei comes to visit Daisuke. He brings little Gin along with him. At first, Gin's siblings are very happy to see him. They rush towards him to play, cheering about how their brother has returned, and he instantly kicks their asses. Gin's siblings are no longer very happy to see him. They run to their mother's side for comfort as Gin comes to a heel at Gohei's leg in an insanely powerful flex on momma's boys everywhere.

Daisuke asks the old hunter what he's doing poking around these here parts, and after scolding him for speaking like a cowboy, Gohei invites him along to watch Gin's first hunting trip. Obviously since something's happening, Daisuke MUST be included.

The three head out to a river gorge nearby to blast some ducks outta the sky. Gohei is taking his sweetass time with aiming and firing, which is very uncharacteristic of him. It soon becomes obvious why, though. As soon as he manages to snipe a bird outta the air, he allows it to fall into the ravine below before commanding Gin to go in after it.

Gin is still too full of vim and vigor to be afraid, so he leaps into the foaming snake of water below, his basin training finally showing some use. From somewhere nearby, a man's voice can be heard barking commands in English, which I cannot transcribe here because I don't speak English.

As Gin braves the rapids, a familiar silhouette also comes down into the gorge. It's another dog, and Daisuke recognizes it! It's the pompous German Shepherd from the weapons shop, and before you can learn how to properly pronounce "nagareboshi", he's snagged Gin's bird up and started making off with it!

Daisuke shouts obscenities at the thieving bastard as Gin follows behind him. For the first time, Gin begins to speak to another dog, though all the humans hear is adorable yipping. Gin tells the dog to let go of his master's kill. The dog makes like he's going to say something sarcastic back, but his mouth is too full to speak.

Instead, the dog continues to bolt, finishing his sprint by climbing to the top of the cliffside and leaping to the other side of the ravine. Little Gin tries to follow suit, but his anime protag powers haven't truly kicked in yet, and instead he ends up missing the mark and tumbling back down into the water below. The shepherd snorts in smug amusement before scampering away.

Gin, Gohei, and Daisuke pack up and start heading home. Gohei is visibly annoyed at the loss of the kill. Even Gin looks forlorn about it. Just as Daisuke begins trying to soothe the two of them, a Jeep drives past. Sitting proudly in the backseat is a dog - the German Shepherd from before! Daisuke and Gin both call out to the thief to return their kill, and the man driving the Jeep stops and gets out to meet them.

Daisuke recognizes the man from the gun shop, but only Gohei knows his name. The young man is called Hidetoshi Sekiguchi, and he's the son of the village mayor, the man who was attacked by Akakabuto alongside Gohei.

Hidetoshi apologizes for the inconvenience regarding the bird, but assures them that it was his kill all along. He tosses the bird's carcass to Daisuke to prove it. The bird's head is missing, clearly having been blasted off its feathery shoulders by the force of a bullet. That bullet came from the shiny, new, powerful-looking rifle Hidetoshi had just purchased.

The young man is a doctor by trade but a hunter at heart, and he's come all the way back from the UK with this new gun and his faithful hunting dog John to kill the bear that mauled his father. Gohei tries to tell Hidetoshi that all the fancy equipment and stuck up canines in the world aren't enough to kill that bear, to which Hidetoshi just patronizingly grins and drives away.

As Hidetoshi and John drive out of sight, Daisuke and Gohei begin heading home. Gin trails a little behind, both spellbound by John's achievement and poise as well as frustrated by his stolen victory. He swears to himself that if he ever sees the GSD again, he won't lose to him once more. He scrunches up his little baby face in determination before following behind the others.

A couple more weeks pass generally uneventfully. Gin continues his training and keeps growing rapidly. Daisuke has tried to keep himself involved in Gin's upbringing, but he's been cooped up inside for a few days now. A blizzard combined with the constant looming threat of Akakabuto makes his parents uncomfy with letting him lollygag around in the woods. So tonight he's chillin' inside with his folks when suddenly they hear an erratic banging at the door. Fuji gets up and snarls, looking more scared then aggressive.

Suddenly, the door flies open and its glass windows, frosted from the cold, shatter. A man tumbles headlong into the living room. A large, bloody gash on the side of his head oozes all over the new rug, horrifying the family for both altruistic and materialistic reasons. Daisuke's father runs to the man's side, trying to keep him awake, while his mother runs to call an ambulance.

The man begins gibbering through bloodied teeth about a monster with a red mane and how his friends and son are still in danger. Daisuke's dad sends his son off to retrieve Gohei, which Daisuke does without skipping a beat because oh my god something he can be involved in, SCORE.

Treading through the snow on his shiny new prosthetic leg, Gohei allows Gin to lead he and Daisuke back to the man. Gohei recognizes him immediately - he's an old hunting buddy, a renowned bear hunter named Shigematsu. Gohei catches the attention of the languishing lad just long enough to see recognition in his eyes before Shigematsu succumbs to his injuries, dying on Daisuke's floor.

Gohei knows he can't stand idly by while Shigematsu's crew are at risk, so he gathers his rifle and his dog and heads out the door. As they leave, Gin looks over his shoulder for an instant at his mother. Fuji gazes longingly at her son as he exits the house. Daisuke and his father follow behind Gohei and head off to gather the same dudes who have been wandering around in the forest looking for bear attack victims for the past several months at this point.

As the group enters the woods, they come across an unexpected sight. It's Hidetoshi and John. Word spread quickly through the village about the man dying from a bear attack, and Hidetoshi wants a chance to fire a few bullets into Akakabuto's ass to make up for his suffering. He joins the men in their hike to Shigematsu's cabin, much to Gin's dismay. Gin still isn't very fond of the callous asshole of a shepherd he's forced to walk beside. John sneers at him, fully aware of how bothersome his presence is.

Meanwhile at Shigematsu's cabin, his remaining friends are trembling and sweating, guns in hand. They know the bear is lurking just outside the cabin somewhere, having a merry little picnic of any men who tried to escape. They inch against the wall only to find it crumbling behind them. A gigantic bear with a red trail of fur down its back roars and swings its mighty paws at the men, shattering their skulls upon impact. Their screams ring through the winter air, entangling with the buzzing of the wind.

By the time the group reaches the cabin, the bear is wandering outside. Gin takes one look at it and leaps into action, ready to be the bear-hound he was meant to be, before tumbling into a snowdrift he can't wiggle out of. John makes fun of the stoopid newb xDDD before using his longer, less silly legs to bumrush the big boogieman of a bear. He snarls and snaps at the predator's face, swiftly dodging his swaying claws.

Gin finally manages to free himself from his strongest enemy yet, the snow, and follows John's example. Only he uses a different source of inspiration for his moves: the memory of his father clinging desperately to the upper side of the bear's snout.

It's already been seen that Gin isn't very agile yet, and the bear takes full advantage of this by smacking him away as if batting at a silver striped fly, sending the puppy squealing into the snow, embarrassed but otherwise unharmed. Daisuke rushes to make sure Gin is alright. The men all open fire on the bear, but the fierce blizzard winds prevent them from getting a good hit on him.

The bear makes a break for it only to be distracted by John. Hidetoshi takes aim while his pet busies the big boy and fires his rifle off square in the animal's chest. The unsteady teddy stumbles with a wail of pain, rolling back into the snow.

As the bear tries to get up once again, Hidetoshi lets loose another bullet into the animal's left eye, finally sending it to bear hell where it belongs. In a moment of catharsis, he lets fly a few more bullets into the dead animal's skull, images of his father's mauled corpse dancing in traumatic fashion around his head. Everyone is still for a moment.

Hidetoshi is about to say something about honor and family or whatever when Gohei interrupts the celebration by pointing out that this animal cannot be Akakabuto. Buty Boy has no right eye, whereas this unlucky fucker had two before getting blown away. Everyone gapes. The striking resemblance the animal has to Akakabuto can only mean one thing: the tyrant has been getting laid, passing his powerful and dangerous genes onto a new generation. A feeling of intense terror spreads through the crowd, and about 50 feet away, a single, glassy eye shimmers in the darkness.

The dogs are shaken from their own stupor by the scent of something wicked this way coming. John and Gin snarl at the large black mass watching the crowd, and the men look to see the forest's resident bastard glaring at them. Akakabuto stares spitefully at the men, taking in all of their scents and faces. His gaze also falls first on the German Shepherd, then on the little silver ball of fur beside it. He can't pinpoint why, but the upstart (pupstart?) looks and smells incredibly familiar.

Furious at the sight of his father's murderer, Gin tries to run towards the hulking mountain of bear. Daisuke snags him up before he can run very far, though, and he settles with barking obscenities at the enemy instead.

Again everyone fires, but it's too late. Akakabuto is wicked fast and not nearly as dumb as his offspring, so he's already gotten the hell outta dodge. Hidetoshi swears out loud, blueballed by fate once again. Gohei tells everyone they'd best go home. Nobody who'd wander into the forest to find that bear at night could make it back out alive, not even him in his golden days.

Everyone begins the chilling, chilly hike to the village. Daisuke sulks coldly in more ways then one, distracted from where he's going by his own dark thoughts about the bear that's been ruining everyone's lives. Because of his lack of focus, the boy takes a nasty fall into a sinkhole the snow covered up, and he finds himself screaming, flailing, and falling into a break in the mountain.

Everyone cries out to him, grabbing at him, but soon he's out of sight. Daisuke shuts up for the first time in his life when his head strikes a rock and knocks him unconscious. He tumbles onto a cliff overhang before truly entering the Earth's core, crumpling into a helpless heap.

All the men are losing their minds over what to do, especially Daddy Daisuke upon realizing the hole is too big for any of the men to squeeze into. Everyone's flipping shit except for Gin, who is gazing longingly into the hole, and Gohei, who is gazing thoughtfully at Gin. The old man has an Aha! moment and throws open his pack to retrieve a rope, which he then firmly secures on Gin's collar.

Everyone stops freaking and asks what he's doing. He rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world - he's sending Gin down to drag Daisuke back up, DUH!

With no better options, the crew send the puppy into the pit. Gin's a pretty clever kid, so he understands his mission well enough. He's lucky, too, and finds Daisuke quickly. He tries to lick the child's face to awaken him, but it doesn't work. Daisuke's alive, but he's out cold. There's no hope of him climbing out himself. So maybe, just maybe...

Gin thinks fast and literally runs circles around the unconscious kid, wrapping the rope tightly around his torso and under his armpits. After a few turns of Ring Around The Search And Rescue Victim, the doglet gives a tug on the rope and a bark up through the tunnel. Nothing happens for a sec sans the sound of unintelligible, excitable speech, but then Gin gets some feedback. The men understood, and they're pulling the rope up.

To keep things really secure, tiny Gin is forced to clench his jaws around the rope and support Daisuke's weight with his neck. His collar digs into the baby fat around his neck, drawing blood, but he refuses to let go of his buddy.

The men give one last hard yoink and pull both of the youngsters out of the sinkhole. Daisuke's dad cradles his child to his chest, announcing that the kid is unconscious but still alive. Everyone cheers while Hidetoshi cradles little Gin, who is also fading from consciousness from exhaustion, to his own chest. Hidetoshi wipes some of the blood from Gin's neck as John watches. John's eyes soften for probably the first time in his life as he sees how Gin has still refused to release the rope. Is this what it's like to be humbled?

Daisuke's eyes slowly flutter open, which elicits another cheer from the emotional crowd. His dad hugs him tightly, gushing tearfully about his son's survival and the little dog's bravery. Upon hearing Diasuke's exhausted response back, Gin's own eyes shoot open and he leaps from Hidetoshi's arms into Daisuke's. He licks the boy's face eagerly, clearing it of the tears that have streamed from it.

Gohei comes to Daisuke's side, his eyes even softer then John's. He reaches down and lifts the puppy up just inches from his face. Gin's tiny tongue flicks out to lick the end of the senior's nose. Gohei brings the dog child to his chest and gives him a gentle hug and a pet on the head. Everyone looks on in disbelief. As long as any of them have known him, Gohei has never pet any of his dogs, let alone hug them. Gohei hands Gin back to Daisuke, allowing the child to hold the puppy close.

As everyone gets ready to head home once more, Daisuke declares his eternal devotion to the silver brindle dog, appreciative of his friendship and forever convinced of his bravery.

----------

End of episode 1, the episode with what’s likely the most non-dog child beating in the series!!! Hope you “””enjoyed””” it!!!

Episode 2: The Invasion

[nunaya-business]

I always like to brag about how I raised my little cousin so I'd like to make a list of things I do, that a lot of other people don't seem to do with their kids (at least around where I live).

Things I did to raise a good and respectful child.

Instead of smacking her hand when she did something bad as an older infant/toddler, I gently took both her hands in mine, put them on her knees and said, "Breezy, that's not okay. You shouldn't (do whatever you did) because it's not nice."

Never spanked the little shit and she's a well behaved angel.

When she got older, I did the Supernanny thing and had a special timeout chair to put her in when she was throwing a tantrum, explained to her why she was on the chair, and how long she had to sit/stay in the room after calming down before going back into the room, explaining why her behavior wasn't acceptable, and gave her a BIG hug. An apology is great too, but not necessary.

When you get visibly mad in front of the kid don't rush at them like a monster (like my shitty Aunt) to beat their ass. Simply stand in one place, take a deep, calming breath, and tell the kid that you've had enough of their behavior.

For the love of God DO NOT go into panic mode when the kid (as a baby) cries! It's okay! Calm down, treat the situation as calmly and gently as possible, and figure out the baby's needs. It'll do wonders, trust me.

I'm not opposed to kid leashes AT ALL, but trust me when I say that kids are like dogs, and can be "trained" to stay beside you at all times in less crowded areas. Instead of having the kid try to keep up with you, slow down to their pace, and it'll be just fine.

Hold the kid's hand when walking in a city or across the street please! Your kid's life is more important than whatever else you got going on!

Kids only get violent and disrespectful when they see the adults around them being that way, so be respectful to others and the kid, and the kid will parrot.

Spend. Time. With. Your. Kids!!! A 5 year old doesn't need a goddamn phone! Have a designated travel toy! Not only will it keep them occupied, but it'll teach them responsibility.

Have kids earn their shit. No backtalk? Ice cream. Cleaned their room? New toy! Learned new things (ie, new words, ABC's, 123s)? A trip to the park! Rewards teach responsibility and good manners!

Kids don't need to swear. Nothing wrong with cursing, they're just words. But kids shouldn't know words like 'sex', or 'madturbation' right? Then no dirty words like 'ass', 'fuck', or 'cunt'. One time I called my cousin a sass-ass and her reply was, "No, Brookie, you're a sass-ass!" My reply was, "Okay that's fair, I won't say it anymore if you don't." Her response? "Okay, good."

A kid can be sassy without being disrespectful, just make sure they know the difference.

When a kid is caught lying, don't put pepper or hot sauce on their tongues, and don't put soap in their mouth, that's been proven dangerous and psychologically damaging. Instead take away privileges. You know, like grounding.

KIDS WHO LEARN THE PROPER NAMES OF THEIR GENITALIA ARE MORE COMFORTABLE TALKING ABOUT SEX LATER IN LIFE. A penis is not a fucking turtle, and a vagina isn't a motherfucking kitty. Got it? Good! Weirdoes.

It's important to let kids know that they can talk to you about anything! Don't punish your kid for asking about things like their genitals, and don't overreact to them telling you about something bad they did. They need to know that they always have someone to talk to, and that it should be the person who's taking care of them!

Don't gender stereotype. If your boy likes to play with Barbies? Then why can't he? It's a toy isn't it? A girl wants to rough house? Why not? The boys get to do it!

Saying "thank you" when receiving something from a child, and "please" when asking for something from them put it in their brains that these Re the things you say when giving or receiving something.

High fives after completing tasks or learning something new does wonders.

Big kids sleep by themselves, pick out their own clothes, dress themselves, clean up after themselves, don't drink from bottles (and later sippy cups), and don't suck on their binkies.

Kids need to learn that new things aren't scary. So show them yourself. Eating brocolli is good for you! You grow up big and strong, and you can pretend that you're eating trees! Cool! Riding a bike is scary. You're gonna fall a few times, maybe get a few cuts and bruises, but that's why you practice! And why you have protective gear on!

[timeisacephalopod]

Phoenix!Tony post civil war. Tony dies in Siberia and all that remains when Captain America returns is a suit full ash but soon the sound of crying draws him to the shadow of the base and is shocked to see familiar brown eyes looking up at him from this infant. Will Steve abandon this child to the world like he did his friend or can he make up for past sins if he raised him like his own. +Bonus points for Tony rapidly aging to adulthood as a defense mechanism.

Ok, I kind of wrote what takes place after the prompt- so this is post Steve finding Tony. Also, Rhodey takes him from Steve.

**

Rhodey takes the baby from Steve given that he happens to know what’s going on. “That kid looks a lot like Tony,” he says and Rhodey doesn’t dignify that with a response. At the moment his dumb best friend had to get his feather-y ass rescued by the guy that abandoned him in Siberia to begin with.

“You better age fast, asshole, because I’m not changing your diaper,” he tells Tony.

*

Pepper watches as toddler sized Tony runs past. “How many lives does a phoenix have?” she asks. “Because he dies a lot.”

Yeah, at least a couple times in Afghanistan, a couple times Rhodey knew of before then, he ended up dead once after the whole New York thing form heart failure, and then in Siberia. And that’s only the number of times Rhodey knows about. There’s been at least one incident where Tony casually mentioned dying when he didn’t know about said death previously. Which is how he found out about him dying post New York. Rhodey has no idea how he survives the baby stage even with the rapid aging thing. Which, thank god for that because bite sized Tony sucks. He’s got all the genius brain and memories of his lives and deaths so far but all the energy that comes with being a kid.

Now, when that process stops is a toss up. Sometimes when he’s in his teens, a few times in his twenties or thirties, and once at his actual age, but how and why it happens the way it does is a mystery. “I don’t know. Tones, how many lives do you have? Like nine or something? Like a cat?” he asks and Tony stops and stares at him, looking shockingly judgmental for a fucking five year old.

“Phoenixes are immortal,” Tony tells them. “I thought I explained this? Also, fireproof.”

Yeah Rhodey knows that on account of him lighting himself on fire accidentally in the lab and not bothering to pay attention to it until Rhodey started freaking out.

He sighs, “okay, you know what. People forget things okay, your baby ass was pulled out of some ashes and your suit before you were brought back here. How was I supposed to remember you can’t actually die? Side note, can phoenixes make other people phoenixes? Like can you bite me and make me immortal?” he asks, shocked this hasn’t come up before. Though to be fair, the first time Tony died he was losing his shit because the man burned alive in front of his face and then ended up a fucking baby in some ashes. He thinks he had a right to be freaked out in the moment. And then the next set of times that he knows about were in Afghanistan so obviously he had bigger concerns. And then New York which, again, bigger problems. Then now and yeah there are bigger problems but he’s used to high stakes and almost dying all the time and also pulling Tony’s dumb pasty ass out of some ashes. That’s normal now, only took two decades but still.

Tony squints, “I’m a phoenix, not a werewolf. No I can’t bite you and turn you. Phoenixes have to be born, presumably to phoenix parents but I don’t think mine were phoenixes. But my research leads me to believe that sometimes phoenix parents don’t reduce phoenix offspring, but they still carry the gene and occasionally it passes on in the right way, creating a new phoenix,” Tony says.

All that sounds weird as fuck coming out of an actual ass child but okay.

“How high is the phoenix population?” Pepper asks. “I had no idea phoenixes existed or that you were one,” she says, sounding a little upset.

“Huh. I thought you were one for a long time. Usually we’re redheads and- doesn’t matter because you’re human. I have no idea what the phoenix population is. Its hardly like we’re all win contact with each other. Not that I haven’t tried, but I’ve only ever found fifty other phoenixes world wide. Don’t think that’s all of us, but we aren’t really plentiful either,” he says.

“That sounds lonely,” Pepper says but Tony shrugs, clearly resigned.

*

Tony’s in bed, resenting his tiny size even though he’s approximately ten by now when someone walks into his room. He’d throw a fireball if not for the familiar shadow on the wall. Steve. He pretends to be asleep, not interested in dealing with this bullshit at the moment. As far as he knew Steve was in Wakanda and that’s fine by him. T’Challa can deal with him.

He doesn’t leave even though, no matter how hard Tony hopes he will. He sits down on the bed beside Tony and sighs softly before settling a hand on his body. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs and maybe that’s what Tony wanted once but now he’s past that. The man left him to die in Siberia after not telling him his parents were murdered by his best friend. There’s only so much of that that’s forgivable. And maybe Tony’s done too much to be forgiven too- neither of them need this anymore.

He remains still, hoping Steve will go but he doesn’t. Instead he sticks around for long enough that Tony gets annoyed of pretending to be asleep. “Just go,” he tells Steve, resenting the fact that he sounds like a fucking squeak toy. God, puberty is going to suck. Again.

Steve jumps, clearly surprised by his voice. “You’re awake,” he says- almost asks.

“No shit I’m awake, now fuck off,” Tony tells him.

Steve sputters for a moment, “well that’s rude,” he says, clearly responding to the fact that Tony looks and sounds like a child rather than his words. God he hates that.

He sits up and glares at Steve, something Rhodey tells him is unnerving given his childlike features. “What, you think you can walk in here and just apologize to me while I’m asleep and act like everything is fine? I died Steve. You killed me. And to add insult to injury it was after you kept a major secret from me about one of the most important events in my life. Fuck you for thinking a couple of words would somehow make that go away,” he snaps.

For a moment Steve falters, maybe not knowing what to do with the information that he’d killed Tony given that he’s clearly alive, if bite sized, looking at him. But he suffered major damage and there’s only so much he can take even with being stronger than the average human. And no, he’s sure Steve didn’t want to kill him, not really given that he had a chance. But he did think about it for a moment, shield raised above his head, before he slammed it into his chest and crushed his ribs like that was an improvement. Then he left him here with no way to escape the suit, Tony had had to fumble around to get the pieces away from him despite his injuries because he knew the flames were coming and he didn’t much want to be a baby stuck in a suit cavity.

It sucked and Steve doesn’t get to apologize for that. Its just too much, neither of them have any trust in the other and if Tony’s honest he doesn’t think there was ever a time when Steve trusted him. The first thing he did when Tony mentioned back deal arms was assume he sold them and that’s why he knew about it, not that he didn’t want another Obadiah to ever pull that shit with him again so he made sure to educate himself on the subject. And that’s one of what seems like a million instances where Steve assumed the worst.

Not like he hasn’t returned the favor either, so what the hell is the point? From day one they never got along and maybe they were both stupid enough to think they got past that but evidence shows they didn’t. There’s no sense in apologizing when they both know it’ll happen again.

“That’s not what- Tony, I just wanted to make things right,” he says softly.

Tony works to keep the fiery rage inside on account of Rhodey not wanting to clean up after an outburst. He’d do it himself but Rhodey is a back seat cleaner and mostly ends up taking over anyway, wheel chair be damned. “Oh grow up Steve, we’re past making things right and have been for years. We’ve never gotten along and we’ve never had each other’s backs. Go back to your Bucky and I’ve got Rhodey and Pepper. I never needed you,” he says. And you never needed me hangs in the air too, but he doesn’t need to say that.

*

Rhodey laughs at the look on Tony’s face. “Go on, go play with the other kids,” he says, snorting and laughing. Pepper snaps a picture of him from behind Rhodey.

“I hate you both and I will have you know I have too much dignity to play in a damn park thank you,” Tony tells them.

“Not even when you’re small enough to fit on a swing without your legs hitting the ground?” Pepper asks.

The fact that Tony immediately turns and gives the swings a longing look has Rhodey cracking back up again as Pepper starts laughing too. But its the fact that Tony starts trudging over to the swing set looking pissed off with himself that sends them both into hysterics.

[mapowrites]

Misericórdiae (Erwin Smith/OC)

Chapter 3: Shepherd's Pie

[ I ] [ II ] 

(Art by https://twitter.com/tegamihiraku?lang=en)

He had liked the smell of the rain. But after today, it smelt of guilt and tragedy.

He stood aimlessly; his Sunday clothes soaked through from the rain. His eyes blank, he read the plate over and over again. He was too numb to cry. Too stupefied to process the situation.

‘Here lies Christopher Smith. 778-825. May he rest in peace.’

Three hours had passed since the burial, but the little blond boy was paralysed to his spot, towering over the tombstone. Some of the adults around him had tried to get him to leave with them under their umbrellas, uttering words of condolences. But moving meant that he would have to carry on. Moving meant he would have to continue his life without his father. Moving would mean that he accepted his father’s death. So he stayed perfectly still, thinking that if he didn’t move, all of this would go away as fast as it had happened.

He, alone, remained with his father.

“Erwin,” a friendly voice cooed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a man squatting beside him. “Let’s go home. My wife made shepherd’s pie for dinner.”

His mouth refused to function despite his brain’s command. He continued to stare at the fresh grave, his soul absent from his eyes. He felt the man staring a hole into him for several minutes.

“Papa, what’s wrong with him?” Erwin heard an infantile voice grow closer. He watched a small girl no older than five years approach her father from his peripheral vision.

“Shh,” her father, who he recognised as Mr. Reichart, hushed her. He had been his father’s close friend. “Erwin is not feeling well.”

“Why not?”

“His heart is hurting.”

His heart, his lungs, his brain, his stomach, his skin was hurting. Everything felt poisoned.

A few minutes passed before his view of his father’s grave was suddenly blocked by a blur of white. When his eyes focused, he found a white Camellia flower in front of his nose. Blinking, he took the flower into his hand, bringing the infant into his view. Her bright honey eyes were the first bit of colour he had seen in days.

“Sometimes when I’m hurting, I count the petals on the flowers,” she said very matter-of-factly. “When I’m done counting, I don’t feel sad anymore. Then, I eat shepherd’s pie to scare the sadness away.”

The little girl stood beside him and held his hand. She peered over the flower in his hand and started counting. He listened to her count, her small finger pointing at the different petals. Erwin was lulled into a trance as she counted.

By the time she reached twenty-eight, Erwin began to see colour again.

--

Lyor peered at the immensity of the blue sky in the open fields, taking a bite out of her apple. The sky was so beautiful without any walls obstructing it. She wondered when she would finally be able to cruise the sky; alone and free up in the clouds. She wanted to see what life looked like as a bird.

“Head’s up!”

Lyor barely had the time to get up and run away as one of her mates, Max, hit the ground running from the air. He was attached to a box kite glider, his hands gripping the wooden bars. She watched him slowly come to halt, carefully tipping the giant fabric and wooden wings onto the ground. “Forty-three seconds of airtime! And I stuck the landing!” Max exclaimed, untying the leather belts that buckled him into the prototype glider.

“Congrats!” Lyor called to him, sarcasm in her voice. She walked over to him. “Too bad you didn’t fly more than five meters off the ground and flew straight into a titan’s crotch!”

“Hey, just because we’re not using this model right now doesn’t mean we should stop practicing with it,” Max responded. Lyor helped him unlatch the bindings of the box kite glider.

Lyor looked around, pretending not hear Max. “I’m sorry, do you hear someone talking? Oh, wow, I didn’t know dead people could still speak after being devoured by a titan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Max copied her tone and started circling the contraption for any damage. “I didn’t know people scared of flying could become aeroplane engineers.”

Lyor rolled her eyes and helped Max fold the glider in half. He laughed, his teeth showing underneath his thick moustache.

“Did you try out the gas valves on the wings?” She asked, finishing her apple.

“I did; it weighed the whole thing down. We’ll have to try something else,” Max responded, taking off the series of belts and latches he was wearing. “But I gotta say, this 3DMG latch setup works like a charm!”

Lyor frowned. “You better return that to the scout before he leaves. He’ll need it for the way back.”

The brunette watched him light his umpteenth cigarette of the day. The middle-aged man shrugged. “I don’t think Wilhelm’s going to send him home on his own.”

“Why not?”

“I overheard him talking to Smith about how screwed his ankle is. Heinrich wants to give it at least another day. We’ll be leaving by that time regardless — might as well have a scout escort us home,” Max began packing his equipment into a crate. A movement caught his eye and he nodded his head in its’ direction. “Speak of the devil. I think your old man wants you.”

Lyor twisted around to find her father waving her over a few hundred meters away before disappearing into the dense forest bush. She turned back to Max. “Need any more help?”

“Nah,” he replied, his breath smoky. “I’m almost done. I’ll meet you back at camp. Rick is somewhere around, too.”

Lyor nodded and headed back to their campground. She entered the forest bush and began hiking up a steep hill. She thought about what Max had told her. Her father had been so stern about taking in this soldier, and suddenly he wanted to keep him close? He must’ve known this guy really well, she thought.

Lurching up the almost 60 degree incline, she steeled herself for the last few meters up the hill. Finally, she reached the top, panting, where she found her group’s campground. Four tents were erected in a circle around a campfire, their horses grazing leisurely the grass. It was the perfect vantage point; they could see for miles and miles for incoming titans, their camp peeking just enough out of the woods. From here, they also had access to a prime launching area for their gliders and planes.

“Look at it, woman! I told you not to touch the vapour turbine!” Lyor watched Heinrich and Faye squabble over a leaking steam engine, wrenches held up in the air, ready to strike.

Faye, a lanky girl in her late teens, waved her slender arms in the air in exasperation. “If I hadn’t released the pressure vapour, we’d both be two roasted kebabs right now!”

“Oh, the exaggeration!” Heinrich slammed his wrench onto the ground, stomping over to his workbench.

Lyor’s smile quickly dissipated at the realisation that all of their materials and equipment were sprawled out in the open. Her father had specifically told them to keep their crap out of sight, in case the soldier saw. Now suddenly, Heinrich and Faye had one of their steam engines out on display. This made her walk faster towards Erwin’s tent, where her father and the latter surely waited for her. She knew the two men had planned to catch up this afternoon; her father had requested it the night before when Erwin and he reunited. With Erwin being too exhausted to handle much, last night’s introductions were cut short after her father had interrupted.

Lyor knocked on the wooden crate placed outside Erwin’s tent, and her father’s voice allowed her to enter. She pushed through the fabric and entered the tent, revealing two men sitting at the wooden table. Her eyes locking with his sapphire gaze, she was surprised to see Erwin out of bed. He nodded politely at her, and she smiled politely back. He was wearing a clean, navy button up shirt tucked into a pair of grey fabric pants — surely borrowed from her father or Max, who had similar builds. His blond hair was combed but still looked a little messy to her with his bangs falling in front of his eyes. She was also startled to see how lucid his regard was compared to last night. Must’ve had a good rest, she noted.

“Lyor,” her father snapped her out of her curious stare. “Have a cup of tea with us, would you?”

Her lips pulled into another diplomatic smile and she nodded. She walked over to the table and pulled a chair out, sitting between the two men who sat on either end of the table. Her father silently slid a cup of tea over to her.

“Erwin, this is my daughter, Lyor,” Wilhelm stated. Lyor pretended not to feel the blond’s gaze on her as she cupped her hands around her mug. “You must remember her. You two were quite close when you stayed with our family, even if you stayed only for a few months.”

With raised eyebrows, Lyor looked at her father, mouth opening to ask what on Earth he was talking about. He beat her to it.

“Lyor, this is Erwin Smith. I was his father’s best man. When Erwin was ten, his father died, and we took him in for a few months.”

“Oh,” Lyor cheerlessly turned her gaze to Erwin who watched her with a small smile. Her brows knit in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember you.”

Her father chuckled. “You were only four years old.”

“I only remember you handing me a flower at my father’s funeral,” Erwin admitted, firmly holding her gaze. She squirmed in her seat under his intimidating stare; his penetrating sapphire eyes commanding her utmost attention. “You had also told me that the secret warding off sadness was to eat shepherd’s pie.”

Lyor bit her lip and laughed embarrassedly, breaking their eye contact as her face flushed. Her father snorted.

“Well, her mother did make a hell of a shepherd’s pie,” Wilhelm’s gaze softened as he watched his daughter forlornly. “Isn’t that right?”

Lyor hummed in agreement, her lip twitching into a bitter smile.

“Lyor was the one who found you collapsed in the forest,” Erwin listened carefully as Wilhelm spoke to him. “Honestly, we wouldn’t have spotted you had it not been for the glint of your sword; you were covered in mud. I’m assuming that’s why you weren’t eaten since we didn’t find any other bodies.”

Behind her cup of tea, Lyor observed Erwin’s Adam’s apple bob as he drank his tea. There was something off about him. The young man – older than she was – didn’t look particularly friendly at the mention of his fallen comrades. There was something in his face that told her he was aloof — whether it was the squareness of his jaw, or perhaps the shape of his sharp cheekbones. He was handsome, and he was difficult to read. Her eyes followed the outline of his jaw, down his stubbled cheek, to his exposed neck; he kept a few of his shirt buttons undone, surely to keep his abdominal wounds properly aired out. She swallowed hard, averting her eyes before they could greedily travel to the view of his bare chest where she had spotted the start of a gauze bandage.

“What are the odds?” Erwin commented smoothly. He caught Lyor’s eyes. “Thank you for finding me. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Lyor pressed, dodging his politeness with a quick smile.

He exhaled pointedly through his nose and peered into his teacup. She noticed a twinge in one of his thick eyebrows as he took a moment to recall the events. “Yes, I was on an expedition with my regiment. It was pouring rain. Without much visibility in the Venhurst woods, we were easily ambushed by a group of titans and I was knocked off of my horse by one. I must’ve tumbled for at least a hundred meters before I lost consciousness.”

Lyor pressed her lips into a grim line. “No one came back to look for you?”

“I’m sure they did but as Wilhelm said, camouflaged in the mud, I was only spotted by chance,” Erwin answered. He hesitated for a few seconds before he continued to speak. “But I’m relieved it turned out this way.” Lyor watched his grip tighten around his cup. She shot him a questioning look.

“This way, I was able to witness your group’s engineering feats,” The blond confessed. “I want to help you further your research.”

Lyor’s eyes widened three times their normal size before she scrutinised her father’s expression. He offered a shrewd smirk.

“You — what did you tell him?” She demanded, appalled at her father’s judgement.

“Everything.” Wilhelm answered simply.

She stammered, “On what grounds?!”

“Lyor,” her father’s demeanour abruptly shifted. Sombrely, he continued. “Erwin’s father was tortured and killed by the military police for merely pointing out discrepancies and contradictions to his son in the history books they gave you children at school. They covered up Christopher’s murder as an accident, leaving his only son orphaned.”

The young woman confirmed this by looking over at Erwin. He didn’t meet her eyes and instead stared into his cup of tea, withdrawn.

“Erwin shares our vision and motivation,” Wilhelm punctuated. Her eyes dragged back to her father. “He’s next in line to be commander of the Survey Corps. With the Survey Corps’ funding and support, we can finally move forward with our research.”

Lyor scowled, her amber eyes burning a hole through her father.

Wilhelm sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I understand this makes the group uneasy, but you have to trust me. I knew Erwin’s father very well. Not only is he the spitting image of Christopher, but what could possibly motivate him to betray us? Do you really want to remain static like we have for the past six years?”

“After what happened to mother, you decide to do this without everyone’s consent?” Lyor spoke lowly, standing assertively from her chair. Her father watched her with an icy expression, almost daring her to finish her thought. “After what happened to your wife?”

The two brunets glared at each other in forbidding silence before their attention turned to Erwin. He stood up from his chair, cooly, and with a slight limp, took two steps to be faced with Lyor. He towered over her, her nose barely reaching his chin. She glared up at him, trying to ignore the suddenly intoxicating scent of his person. She stood her ground as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression, his gunmetal eyes unwavering.

“Ms. Reichart,” his tone was unyielding, but the formality kept him distant. “You saved my life. Do you really assume me to be so treacherous? Given what the military did to my father, do you really believe that I am anything like the men who used an innocent mother as a bargaining chip?”

Lyor blanched at his words but she continued to glare at him. Father wasn’t kidding when he said he had told him everything. He searched for an answer to his questions in her eyes.

When she didn’t answer him, he continued. He leaned into her face, his eyes like burning coals that ordered her to look at him. She felt his feverish breath on her skin, and despite her fire, her heart began to race. This time, it was Erwin’s turn to smoulder, his words oozing authority, “I have nothing in common with those men.”

--

Notes:

Your comments are my writing fuel. :>

Also disclaimer: I don't know shit about planes or engineering. I also realise that planes were only invented after the invention of the steam engine and that that has yet to be introduced in this geographical area of AOT, but just pretend that steam engines have already been invented, 'kay? For the sake of Lyor and Erwin?

[ontarioyoga]

Is There Such Thing As Baby Yoga

New Post has been published on https://www.ontarioyoga.net/is-there-such-thing-as-baby-yoga/

Is There Such Thing As Baby Yoga

Learn The Art And Practice Of Prenatal And Postnatal Yoga Fertility Yoga Yoga For Menstruation And Menopause And Restorative Yoga

The signature Bliss Baby Yoga philosophy and methodology fuses scientific knowledge of safe practices with a holistic, spiritual understanding for a satisfying learning experience.

We offer an ever-growing array of specialised online yoga teacher training courses and classes, and professional development modules, taught by Ana Davis and her team of highly qualified and passionate women’s health experts.

Enjoy a softer, more feminine approach to yoga, embodying the sacred essence of Ahimsa , that will deepen your own practice and connection with your feminine body and soul, and enhance your teaching repertoire—from wherever you are in the world!

‘I have been using this book to help with postnatal depletion and my cycle and I can’t recommend Moving with the Moon enough! Ana is clearly passionate in her knowledge and understanding and has created a peer-reviewed educational resource that is easy to open and use at any section, depending on what you need help with at the time. There are treasures to be found for all woman; young, old, time poor, exhausted, trying for a baby, depleted from having a baby, menstrual disorders, all of us.

The classical women’s postures and restorative postures for women’s health are my go to sections, all beautifully illustrated. There’s even a Moving with the Moon playlists suggestions at the end of the book! Thank you, Ana, for your passion and the work that has gone into creating this resource. This will be passed down the family.’

In The First Few Months After Having A Baby The Last Thing Many People Want To Do Is Put On Some Work

Baby Yoga is a wonderful way to bond with your baby. Babies naturally love to be gently caressed and handled and practising Yoga is a perfect way to do this in a calm, relaxed environment.

There are many reasons why regular Yoga practice is beneficial to both parents and babies and here are our top five.

Issues To Watch For When Doing Or Teaching Yoga Is There Such Thing As Too Much Yoga Uncategorized

I have been doing yoga longer than I have been teaching it.  However, I have recently realized that in some cases anyway, there is such a thing as too much yoga.  Let me explain some issues that could hinder your yoga practice and why I say that.

Most of you that read my blog already know that my spine is fused from top to bottom.  But what you may not be aware of is that I am also hypermobile or “double jointed”.  Between the two, I finally figured out that I am doing too much yoga for ME.  Of course as I age, the hypermobility has decreased some, but it still has given me problems.

In a nutshell hypermobility is the looseness of the joints.  As a kid, this was a really cool thing.  Even as an adult I still manage to have some fun with it but in doing yoga, it can produce some issues for those with this condition.  For example, in doing down dog or any of the warrior poses, I have a bad tendency of locking my knees.  That means they bend a little backwards and create what I “thought” was stability.  It’s not a bad thing but in doing yoga, you really need to pay attention to the way your joints and bones move.  They all work together and if your joints are locking up it puts your whole posture out of whack.

mechanical problems

diseases and conditions resulting in joint damage

brain, nerve, and muscle disorders that damage nerves, tendons, and muscles

bone fusions

Are There Any Baby Health Conditions That Might Affect Its Use And Success

If your little one has any specific physical conditions such as ‘clicky’ hips, reflux or congenital disorders do consult your health visitor or GP before trying baby yoga. The great thing about baby yoga is that you can just take it to the level that both you and your baby feel comfortable with – it is not a competition! So just do the bits that work for your baby, stretching the parts of their body that are safe to be exercised. 

When your baby is or if they have recently had injections, be aware that they may be extra sensitive. In some instances baby yoga can be a good distraction for your baby, helping them to cope with these experiences. However, some babies may not enjoy doing baby yoga at this time. Your baby will make it clear if they are not enjoying it so always be aware and in tune with the signals they are giving off and react accordingly.  

Read more: How yoga can help keep pregnant woman and new mums stress-free

Baby Yoga Can Give You Better Rest Increased Flexibility And A Happy Baby

After nine long months, you’re delighted to have a sweet baby to cuddle and love. But a new baby means a new schedule, and you may find yourself with less time to focus on your health. It’s important to find an exercise regimen that is gentle enough for your body but is also challenging and exciting.

Whether you’re new to yoga or were a committed participant before you had your child, baby yoga is an excellent way to get you on a structured postnatal wellness path. “We recommend baby yoga for anyone who is looking for a healthy, playful bonding activity to do with a new baby,” says Lauren Chaitoff, co-owner of New York City children’s yoga studio Yogi Beans and contributor to .

Check out these nine reasons to do baby-centric yoga that will have you and baby feeling great in no time! 

It’s a Great Bonding Experience With Your BabyMom and baby programs focus on both of you. “We modify traditional yoga poses so that moms can practice yoga while holding and rocking their babies,” states Laura DeNino, baby yoga instructor at the Yoga House of Charleston. The result is time dedicated to bonding. 

You’ll Be Able to Ease Back Into YogaUnlike high-level adult yoga classes, child yoga acknowledges the changes that a new mom’s body has been through. You’ll work with your recovering and changing body instead of against it. 

So grab that yoga mat and find a baby yoga class near you. Your body and your baby will thank you! 

Care directory

What Is Container Baby Syndrome And Do I Really Have To Worry About It

All parents need a safe spot to put their babies down. But is there such a thing as too much time in a bouncer seat or activity centre?

July 7, 2021

Photo: iStock/Fly View Productions

The inverted metal V in the middle of my living room separated my life as a parent into two eras: the before-Jolly Jumper times, and after. Before-JJ, I bounced my colicky baby on a yoga ball for hours, cramming granola bars in my mouth with one hand. Post-JJ , I could sit and enjoy a whole sandwich while his delight at moving his own body beamed straight into my heart. These short breaks played a huge part in bolstering my mental health as a new mom.

Before long, though, guilt would start chipping away at my bliss. Yes, my friends and I cheekily called these types of products, especially Exersaucers or activity centres, “circles of neglect” . Despite the jokes, I knew I shouldn’t leave my son in the jumper for very long—it wasn’t good for his little body, I’d heard. But how long was too long? Would five more minutes spell disaster?

Stephanie So, a paediatric physiotherapist at Pediatric Physiotherapy Associates in Scarborough, Ont., who’s been advising parents on kids and healthy movement for more than 30 years, isn’t sure what to make of the label—“It sounds a bit negative,” she says—but she is aligned with the idea that parents need to be aware of the importance of offering infants safe opportunities to move freely and practise new skills, like rolling and crawling. 

Have You Ever Downplayed A Dream Did You Tell Your Friends Your Family

Here’s the thing: your dreams DO matter. How are they ever going to come true if you pretend they are not important?

In today’s episode, Rachel shares her own intimate dream. It is one that may not be possible for so many reasons, but by speaking her dream out loud, she just may be bringing herself one step closer to manifesting it.

Let today’s vulnerable sharing be a reminder that you can dream, too. You can get your hopes up. You can believe in the possibility of beautiful outcomes. You are a constituent of this universe, so you get a say in what happens!

Tune in to dream big and shout from the rooftops exactly what it is you want – the universe will be listening.

Baby Yoga: 10 Reasons You & Your Newborn Should Consider Practicing

Doing Yoga with your baby has a lot of health benefits, and there are many reasons why you should give it a try.

Yoga: the great mind, body, and spirit connective activity. Despite yoga being very popular, many are unaware that those invaluable connections can be explored outside of one’s inner self. In fact, mothers who practice yoga with their newborns can experience an entirely new type of connection among a variety of other great and positive benefits.

RELATED: 15 Moms Who Should’ve NEVER Worn Yoga Pants

In addition to getting comfortable in one’s new mom role, moms are often trying to get comfortable in their new mom’s body and get adjusted to their new mom hours. There is a pretty good chance yoga can help with all of that. Read on for more ways to get that mom and baby  on.

Top 5 Reasons Why Baby Yoga Is A Must Do For You And Your Baby

A lot of mums and dads think that baby yoga is mum and bub yoga. Well I’m here to dispel that myth and give you 5 very good reasons as to why it’s important for your baby.

A lot of yoga studios do mums and bubs yoga. Parents attend because they think it’s baby yoga and then are very disappointed because the emphasis is on the mum or dad. It’s just a yoga class that invites babies along and has nothing to do with true baby yoga. Yes it’s still very good for you as a parent but what does it do for your baby? Not very much.I can understand that disappointment. You were promised one thing and got something else entirely. And I’m all about the baby and the relationship building between parent and baby.

I’ve done my research, as always! And there are very few true Baby Yoga studio classes. One other that I know of is at Yoganic at Willoughby … http://www.birthlight.com/page/birthlight-australia-centre

They are the official Birthlight Yoga training affiliate where I did my Baby Yoga Diploma last year … http://www.birthlight.com/page/baby-yoga and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fBp3noYlyg

Babies are rocked and touched in utero and baby yoga looks at recreating that special bond and movement that was experienced previously. After birth, gentle movement and touch together are the basis of synesthesia . It is the way babies bring together their sensory experiences in a general way through an emotional interaction with their parents or carers. So what are the benefits of any yoga? 

Baby Neck Strengthening Exercises And Tummy Exercises

When it comes to baby exercises, neck strengthening and tummy time are key. “Babies spend so much time on their backs early in life that spending time on their belly is important to build strength in different positions,” says Sarah Johnson, PT, DPT, a pediatric physical therapist at Riley Children’s Health. “Developing the back, core and neck strength creates the building blocks babies will need to progress in their development of gross motor skills such as crawling, sitting up and eventually walking.” These allow baby to start supporting themselves and explore the world around them.

During tummy exercises and any baby exercises, also be sure to supervise at all times. When it comes to baby tummy exercises, don’t force baby. Start with just three to five minutes a day and gradually increase from there.

Is There Such Thing As Perfect Alignment In Asana

There isn’t, bodies are all different, but I do think there is a safe alignment and that is important to avoid injury. For ex if the pose asks you to bind and when you bind you get all twisted/bent in an unhealthy way, then modify by using a strap or skip the bind completely as long as you’re keeping the twisting motion, to the degree your body allows.

I also like to think of the “intention” of the pose, what I should aim I focus on . Here’s an example of breaking down a pose by its intentions https://www.yoganatomy.com/triangle-and-revolved-triangle-pose/

About The Instructor: Elizabeth Rudzki Green Ms

Elizabeth earned a Masters in Counseling Psychology from Loyola University of Maryland before returning to Pittsburgh, where she is thrilled to share her passion for yoga with her community. Elizabeth lives in Squirrel Hill and is married to her high school sweetheart. They welcomed Stella Marie into their lives in April 2013 and stay busy with 2 dogs, a cat and making their house a home. Elizabeth completed her 200 hour yoga certification through South Hills Power Yoga and is grateful to help others create flexibility of body and mind.

Hatha Yoga Guide: Science Benefits And Insights

In this comprehensive guide to the fundamentals of hatha yoga, yogi and mystic introduces us to this phenomenal science. In a series of articles, he corrects many misunderstandings about the process and explores how we can reap the maximum benefits hatha yoga has to offer.

The body is a very large part of who you are right now. The science of using the body to hasten your evolutionary process is hatha yoga. The body itself has its own attitudes, its own ego, its own nature. Let us say you decided, “Starting tomorrow, I will get up at five in the morning and go for a walk.” You set the alarm. The alarm rings. You want to get up, but your body says, “Shut up and sleep.” It has its own way, doesn’t it? Hatha yoga is a way of working with the body, a way of disciplining, purifying and preparing the body for higher levels of energy and possibilities.

Finding A Mother And Baby Yoga Class Near You

Baby yoga is really safe and easy to do in the comfort of your own home if you don’t feel like attending a class; all you need is a warm, safe and calm environment. Place a non-slip towel or yoga mat down on a clear space of floor and you and your little one are good to go! 

If you feel nervous about doing baby yoga for the first time on your own, then why not enrol in a local class to gain confidence. These will usually be run by baby yoga instructors. A quick Google search of mother and baby yoga classes near me will help you find one close by. 

However, if your baby is healthy and there are no known issues which could affect their enjoyment then you should feel empowered to go ahead!  This is a big workout for your little one, so go gently at first, reading your baby’s reaction and mood with every step. 

It Promotes Bonding Between You And Your Baby

The number one reason why baby yoga works so well for parents and their babies is that it strengthens the child-parent bond. After all, you’re in physical contact with your baby for most of the session. Given how busy modern schedules are, taking care of your baby can sometimes feel rushed because you’re juggling it with other items in your to-do list, but doing baby yoga allows you to slow down and spend time mindfully with your baby.

At the same time, babies need a lot of affectionate touch, especially from their parents and caregivers, and they can miss out on it when they’re always in strollers. Since baby yoga requires you to hold your baby a lot while paying careful attention, you deepen your bond and become more attuned to your baby’s body language and cues. After spending so much time in the womb, which is dark and enclosed, babies can become more comfortable with the outside world with the guided sensory stimulation from baby yoga.

It Gives You The Chance To Meet Other Parents

Baby yoga classes are only for parents and their babies, so you’ll be with people who can relate with what you’re going through. Some classes even encourage a certain theme or facilitate discussions about parenting, so it’s easy to start conversations and meet other parents. You can even hang around after the class to socialise.

Another great thing about baby yoga is that it provides a supportive, non-competitive environment where you won’t feel pressured and you can speak up about your concerns. In fact, it’s usually okay to stop or go out in the middle of the class to change your baby’s nappies, and you don’t have to feel self-conscious about your baby crying. Of course, your baby also gets to meet and interact with the other babies there!

Climbing Stairs For A Toddler Is No Mean Feat

To understand the full impact of how much effort a small child needs to exert to climb stairs imagine you, yourself, are a little toddler again and you want to climb your first stairs. Put the situation into proportion: those first steps you climbed were giant steps, reaching up as far as your thigh!

Could you do that today? Climbing thigh-high steps requires humongous effort from the thigh muscles. Try climbing stairs, three or four steps at a time!

Learning To Move Is Not That Easy For A Baby

From birth on, all humans embark upon a long and intense period of physical training comparable to the intensity of the training of an athlete. We all know and accept the fact that the movement vocabulary, fitness level, and endurance of children by far exceed the physical capabilities of adults, but why should this be so? In so-called “primitive” or non-urbanized societies this is not the case.

Baby Yoga What Is It And Why Should We Care

We explore the ins and outs of sharing a mat with your mini.

Melanie Dimmitt

When presented with the notion of yoga for babies, I scrutinized it as I would a designer diaper bag. A lovely idea, in theory, but do I really it? Amid the plethora of mommy-and-me offerings – music classes, French lessons, sign-language… even Salsa dancing – why choose yoga? Babies are naturally bendy, are they not? It isn’t called a ‘happy baby’ for nothing. However, on closer inspection, there’s more to baby yoga than child’s play .

First things first. What is it, exactly?

Baby yoga tends to mean one of two things – an adult yoga class that you bring baby along to, or yoga that is actually for your baby. In a parent-focused class, bub takes the role of spectator-slash-adorable-prop.

“The babies lie on a blanket in front of the parents’ yoga mat,” explains Neelu Shruti, of Love Child yoga studio in New York. “Throughout class, which includes upper body stretches and glute strengthening, we will include baby in poses such as ‘push-up kiss baby’, or hold baby while doing squats, lunges or abdominal exercises.”

Love Child studio’s Baby & Me Yoga class incorporates restorative poses and sequences well suited to new parents – so long as they’re okay with the occasional flow interruption and not-so-silent Savasana.

But there are, according to Neelu, ample reasons to abandon your landslide of laundry for a class such as this.

We’re listening.

Now… will a yoga mat fit in my new designer diaper bag?

Top Tips For Getting Started With Baby Yoga

Do your baby yoga routine when your baby appears active and is showing you they want to play and move. 

Do not do baby yoga if your baby is tired, hungry or has just been fed. Remember baby yoga is only beneficial for your baby if they are feeling happy and comfortable.

Don’t do baby yoga with your baby if you are feeling over-tired or uncomfortable yourself. Your baby may pick up on your signals and feel discouraged. 

Keep good eye contact with your baby as you do the moves. Really ‘tune in’ to your baby.  If you do this you can respond quickly to baby’s cues and check they are still enjoying themselves. 

Smile at your baby to give them reassurance.  

Never force the movements. If your baby is under five months they will have less range of movement at their shoulders, elbows, hips and knees compared with an older baby. Younger babies rely on this natural tightness to move, so it is important not to disrupt this. 

Start off with just a couple of repetitions, increasing length and duration as you learn together. 

Remember to show your baby how proud you are of their new skills! 

Ensure that your little one is wearing a well-fitting nappy such as Pampers Active Fit. This type of nappy will adapt to your baby’s movements because it has stretchier sides than ordinary nappies to help to keep your baby dry and protected no matter how much they move. 

Consult your health visitor or family GP if you have any specific concerns.

How To Learn Yoga From Your Baby Or Toddler

Juliette Kando is a dancer, choreologist, author on fitness and health, and Fellow of the Benesh Institute at the Royal Academy of Dance.

Happy-baby-pose also called Ananda balasana

Any parent who knows a little about yoga will agree that many of the movements made by babies and toddlers are very similar to yoga asanas. From a choreologist’s point of view this is not surprising since, upon analysis, yoga is very closely related to human movement development from birth onward.

This article explains the origins of human movement and demonstrates many naturally inborn baby and toddler yoga moves. While playing with your child you can copy those moves. Teat the child as your teacher. Together you can enjoy playing and discovering yoga as a fun and entertaining way to get fit.

Why Baby Yoga Classes Can Also Benefit Mom

Hopefully a little bit of a workout. Some yoga classes are gentle and/or focus a lot on playing games with the babies .

Classes at dedicated yoga studios tend to offer more workout and less playtime. There is often a focus on poses that help new moms relieve the strain of nursing and start to regain some abdominal strength.

Yoga Poses for Breastfeeding Moms

The ideal class from a mom’s perspective allows you to do as much yoga as possible while your baby isn’t upset. Because, let’s face it, your baby isn’t the one that needs this time and space to do yoga. You are.

You will also get out of the house to an environment that is not stressful where you will meet other new mothers. The value of connecting to this community should not be underestimated.

Is There Such A Thing As The Best Yoga Mat

Kate was looking for a new mat because hers was getting worn. The one she had was a lower quality, so it was beginning to tear in small areas. While it was nothing serious, she decided to begin looking for a better yoga mat. She was looking into many different websites and other resources to lean about how to find a good mat.

There are many different sizes and style of mats available nowadays, so Kate was having a little bit of a hard time deciding on just one. She wasn’t really sure where to go for the best prices, or best styles of many mats available.

So what are a few qualities that make a good mat?

•Shouldn’t be too hard or soft•Should have a side that is sticky•Length can vary •Price may be important to some people•Thickness should be at least 4 mm

Mats come in all sizes, designs and styles. Finding one that you think is the best is all up to you. There is no right or wrong mat. The first thing that you should look for in a yoga mat is comfort. Being comfortable with your mat is a big plus.

Mats usually have at least on sticky side. This helps to keep it in place and from sliding all over the place. As far as the length of the mat goes, this is another personal preference. Some prefer longer mats as you can move around more on them. These types are great for taller people.

Picking the best mat for you doesn’t need to be a chore. There are many sites that can help you find the best deals and mat just for you.

Limit Babys Activities To No More Than 15

Most yoga classes are between 45 minutes to an hour. That’s fine for mamas, but that length of time is too much for babies. While a baby is more than welcome to have some tummy time or sit and babble happily away while you perform additional, restorative or strength-building poses, your baby should only be actively doing yoga for 15 or 20 minutes. Anything more than that can overtax his/her already busy and developing body.

Why Do Children Love To Hang Upside Down

We always have a special treat at the end of a children’s ballet class. I, the teacher, pick up each child, by their ankles and hang them upside down; one at a time, of course. “Again, again!” they shout when they are upright again. Children often know instinctively what is good for their hard-working bodies.They love hanging upside down because it helps them stretch, relax and grow; it reverses gravity, takes the weight off their little growing bones.

How To Give A Mummy And Baby Yoga Class Charlie Stewart-Brown

Teaching a Mummy & Baby Yoga class is a joy for a yoga teacher, but more importantly for the mum and baby.  It’s a wonderful activity for them to do together and a lovely opportunity for them to bond in a different environment.  I set up the first ever class of this type in Switzerland and it’s become increasingly popular across the country.

The mums get to know other mums in their area which is especially nice if it’s their first child or they’re expats living in a country away from their family and home friends.  It can be an especially difficult and lonely time for mothers who work and are on maternity leave, who often struggle with their change in identity, productivity and even boredom.  Mummy & Baby Yoga classes are a great opportunity to socialize with other women in the same boat and do an activity for themselves, without having to pay for childcare.  More often than not the mums in my classes would go for a coffee together afterwards and the babies became friends too!  The babies are fascinated by one another and it’s beautiful to watch them develop more and more each week and start interacting together.

The Yoga Instructor Should Be Certified

Certifications and credentials are always a good thing to verify when trusting your well-being – and your baby’s – to someone else’s expertise. However, yoga certification should be an essential “prerequisite” before enrolling in a class. 

First and foremost, the instructor should be trained and experienced in teaching parent-and-baby classes, understanding which postures and holds are safe, and which aren’t, to keep your baby safe. Your safety is also a priority. Your connective tissue is still very elastic from the hormonal changes that took place to accommodate pregnancy, labor and delivery. Postnatal classes should support that, keeping you safe from stretches or postures that could lead to potential strain or injury. 

If you find out your baby isn’t as into the classes as you are and you opt to take a yoga class on your own, make sure to inform the instructor you are XX weeks postpartum as s/he will probably amend certain poses for you until you’re body is further along in its recovery.

Playing With Your Child At Ground Level

Instead of sweating it out at the gym, why not just play with your child at ground level in a physical conversation to discover three things:

Babies and little children can teach us the basics of yoga.

Children prove the benefits of hanging upside down.

Your body has done all this before.

As soon as you start learning yoga from your child the muscular system begins to remember long forgotten moves from the days you yourself were a baby, then a toddler, exploring the wonders of human movement capabilities. How blissful was this very short pre-school time, before you, like all other children in formal education, were told to “sit still and behave.” From then on we all became bound for life to chairs, tables, and desks. Here is a unique opportunity to re-live that wonderful youthful, carefree and happy time with your baby or toddler.

Benefits Of Postpartum Yoga For Mothers

It helps ease new parent jitters. Get started by attending a class taught by a trained instructor — it’s a safe and structured way to engage with your baby.

It’s a little TLC for your body. Any kind of yoga gives you an opportunity to nourish and care for your body through focused stretches and mindful breathing exercises, which is especially important after carrying a baby for nine months and then giving birth!

It stretches and strengthens the muscles that need the most TLC. The gentle movements and mindful breathing that are integral to yoga boost abdominal strength and activate the pelvic floor muscles, which aids recovery from giving birth, while classic poses — from upward facing dog to cobra — help open up the shoulders and chest you rely on for all of the rocking and cradling you do in the first few months with your baby.

It helps you meet new moms. After baby is born, you might not have as much time for socializing. But it’s reassuring to talk to other mothers who are going through the same experiences as you are. Yoga class provides a safe and nurturing environment for new parents to discuss worries and concerns. You’re not alone!  

It helps you and your new baby bond. Yoga is a healthy, playful activity you can enjoy together. 

Is There Such A Thing As A Yoga Expert

I was speaking recently with some yoga colleagues and interestingly, we had all shared a similar experience:

the experience of ‘discovering’ something in our practice and then at some point being in a class where the teacher taught ‘our’ discovery,

of realizing that we had actually been taught that so-called discovery a hundred times before, but just didn’t ‘hear’ it!

I found it quite amusing that this was such a common experience. When I reflected on why, the following 2 thoughts came to mind…

So much is conveyed in a class that I think because it means the learning never stops.

In my opinion, there is no such thing as a yoga expert. BKS Iyengar teaches to approach the mat each day ‘as a beginner’. I understand this to mean that no matter how much progress I’ve made, knowledge I’ve gained, classes I’ve taught, there is always the potential to learn more, to delve deeper. As the asanas penetrate, I change. And as a result of that change, I’m forever a beginner learning to understand my state of being . While not easily embraced, I believe this process to be humility at its best.

So why do I blog about yoga?

Despite not being a yoga expert, I blog. Should I? I don’t know, but upon reflection I think my intentions can be summed up in 4 main points:

I blog to share my passion for Iyengar Yoga with others and hopefully ignite a spark that might lead others to their own mat.

Is There Such A Thing As Too Much Yoga

I don’t know why I was surprised that there was two yoga classes a day, during my week long yoga retreat in Mexico. It was a friggin’ yoga retreat!! The classes were wonderful, but I was a little bored. Why did I go? Someone had put it on my to-do list. Oh, yeah, that was me. Once it’s on there, it’s on there.

Haramara Retreat has no electricity, no internet and you can’t flush your used toilet paper. Simply throw it in the wastepaper basket and call it a day. I found this curiously fun. It did take a couple of, “Oh, crap, I put it in the toilet.” I was afraid that the retreat police was going to knock on my hand-built, environmentally-conscious cabana door and put me in a time out. Or worse, make me fish the toilet paper out of the bowl.

We had fresh, local, organic food and fruit I’d never heard of. There were unpaved trails, a private beach with climbing rocks, an infinity pool overlooking the Pacific Ocean and really stupid sand crabs. The crabs would climb, or rather side shimmy, up the tropical hillside and then die. Weren’t they going in the wrong direction? Every night, walking back to our rustic and built without machinery, cabanas, we’d step over dead crabs in the path.

The ocean was rough and loud, which lulled me to sleep each night.

I loved the open air shower, with its unobstructed view of the ocean. I didn’t worry about my hair clogging the drain because there wasn’t a drain. My strands gracefully and peacefully became one with the jungle.

Baby Exercises To Get Your Baby Moving

When you think about exercise, you wouldn’t tell babies to drop and give you 20. But the Society of Health and Physical Educators recommends that all children up to age 5 do some kind of physical activity every day. And yes, that means babies too. Baby exercises are an important part of infant development. Infant exercise can help strengthen baby’s neck, help develop their hand-eye coordination and help baby learn to walk. So where do you start? From strengthening to baby yoga exercises, it’s time to get baby pumped to move with these baby exercises.

In this article:Baby hand-eye coordination exercises

What Does This Mean For Yoga Teachers

So here’s the big question: What does this mean for you when working with a student who has had a hip replacement?

Proper exercise after surgery can reduce stiffness and increase flexibility and muscle strength, so yoga is a good thing for this condition. But how much and how soon are dependent on many factors such as physical health before the surgery and presence of chronic conditions that may affect the speed of healing. In the past this surgery was reserved mostly for older patients, as artificial hips didn’t last as long as they do now, and having a repeat hip replacement is possible but not desirable. But as technology has improved, so has the number of years the prosthetic parts can be relied upon to serve their purpose. So now it is more common to see hip replacements in younger people, who may be in better overall physical condition and who will heal faster.

So what restrictions should students with THR follow and for how long? The answer is, it depends. The goal is to avoid disturbing the healing process after surgery, and once healed, to preserve the function and integrity of the artificial joint for as many years as possible. Total rehabilitation after surgery will take at least six months for most people.

So when a student tells you they have a hip replacement, first, ask how long ago the surgery was, and whether their procedure was the anterior or posterior approach.

Getting The Word Out About Your Class

Feel free to leave a comment or let me know how it goes if you set up your own Mummy & Baby Yoga classes.  For any question, please join and post your question on the Facebook group:  Yoga Teachers Advice Forum and you will get advice from myself and over 130 yoga teachers worldwide.

Take care and breathe deep.

Standing Walking Climbing And Running

Before a baby learns how to stand upright to walk, it has to perform thousands of deep squats, most of which fail and end up plonking their butt on the floor. A nine-month-old little athlete grunts and puffs for strength to get up and to find balance.

They never give up until they can walk, run, skip, and jump. Why does this drive for moving ever have to stop?

It Eases Tension And Gets You Moving

As a parent, baby yoga will also be beneficial for you! Baby yoga is still a type of yoga, so you’ll experience a lot of the usual perks associated with regular yoga classes. Through the modified poses and guided breathing, you’ll be able to relax more, sleep better, and let go of tension. If you’re consistently putting your baby’s needs first before your own, you have to practice self-care too so you won’t experience burnout. 

While both mums and dads can do baby yoga, some classes cater specifically to mums, offering postnatal exercises that put them back on track with their fitness. Since a mother’s body has gone through plenty of changes recently, these classes emphasise muscles such as the pelvic floor, back, and tummy. Aside from easing back pain and speeding up recovery, baby yoga can guide mums into building up strength and flexibility again.

It Helps With Your Babys Development

The most obvious impact of baby yoga is that your baby becomes more at ease with their body. Baby yoga serves as both exercise and play for them. Not only do babies love being lifted and stretched in the right way, they pick up better body coordination too with baby yoga. For example, when you lay your baby on their tummy, neck and upper body strength become enhanced, so it’s good to put your baby in different positions. Exercises where babies cross their arms or feet over the midline of their body can even contribute to brain development

Whatever stage of life we’re in, stimulation is necessary for us to grow and develop and it’s the same for babies. A baby yoga class offers variations in movement, visuals, and even sounds. Because they’re in a controlled environment, babies become better at processing different stimuli without being overwhelmed. Beyond body awareness, they also form a better sense of the physical space around them.

There Is No Such Thing As A Due Date

Us women are impatient creatures at times. The most frustrating part of pregnancy is probably the ‘due date’ wait. To be given a date of when to expect to be holding your baby in your arms, is asking for stress levels to rise and frustration to build! Imagine being told you’ll win the lottery on the 1st March, to then wake up and realise it ain’t happening. All of that excitement to get to this one date, and it came and went in a flash with no prize!

What we need to remember is that these ‘dates’ are based on every woman having 28 day cycles and conceiving their baby on the 14th day of that cycle. It’s also assuming that all women have the exact same length of pregnancies and all babies are ready on the exact day too. Basically, it’s an estimate. A very rough estimate. For labour to begin remember, our minds and our bodies need to feel calm, happy, safe and relaxed. Spend time doing things that make you feel wonderful – watching your wedding video, browsing old photos, going to your favourite restaurant, watching The Notebook… if your body sense stress of any kind , it’ll keep your baby in longer!

Breathe in, breathe out, and let your body do it’s thing. And if it’s not too late already, don’t tell people your ‘due date’! ?

Which Gravity Inversion Table To Get

I recommend the Teeter Inversion Table because after all these years of using cheaper models I have come to the conclusion that my current Teeter Inversion Table is the easiest to assemble and to use, with the most sensitivity for balance, without jerking as most of the others did. The Teeter is also the most comfortable on the ankles for prolonged use.

What Do We Wear And Take To A Class

Parents and babies should both wear loose, comfortable clothes that are easy to move around in. Jogging bottoms, loose t-shirts or vest tops are ideal.

For babies, I would recommend a sleepsuit with a short-sleeved vest underneath. Sleepsuits are comfortable and easy to whip off when needed.

During the baby massage you will have to take off the sleepsuit, hence the need for a vest. Some babies don’t mind being only in a nappy, whereas others hate it. Both of mine did when I took them to massage classes!

Most classes will tell you what to bring when you book a place, but a towel and/or a yoga mat will most likely be necessary. Some classes will provide the mat depending on where you go.

Many classes take place in a village hall or similar, where the floor can be cold and hard, so a mat is essential. Having somewhere warm and soft to lie your baby down is vital. Babies won’t relax if they’re not comfortable.

I’d also recommend bringing some water. It looks like gentle exercise and it can be taken slowly. However if you’re a newbie or trying to get in shape again, it’s going to take you a little while to get back into things!

Exploring The Benefits Of Baby Yoga

Beate ChungCertified Yoga Instructor

Beate has taught yoga as a certified instructor in the US for over 7 years then she moved to Taiwan in 2010 to open her first yoga studio.

Baby yoga doesn’t seem to be as familiar a term as yoga itself, but more and more parents are seeing the benefits of yoga as a form of exercise that can help them bond with their little one while promoting the development of their babies’ gross and fine motor skills. This practice comes with many physiological benefits. It also improves social interactions among new parents and their babies. Let’s have a look at the benefits of Baby Yoga!

What Are The Benefits Of Baby Yoga

Baby yoga mixes physical touch with emotional contact and movement. The meaningful touch and play used in baby yoga gently encourages your little ones to enjoy and explore their newfound skills as they start to progress and move in different ways. Even if you only do it for 5-10 minutes at a time you will really notice the benefits such as bond and communication.

For Your Baby Stretch Sense Sleep

Babies are extremely limber and this dexterity can help them perform basic yoga poses with ease. Obviously, the stretches are guided by an instructor or the parents. Yoga can help the baby sleep in more regular intervals, and the stretching and posing foster the baby’s gross and fine motor development. The practice has also been found to be effective in promoting better digestion, preventing constipation and relieving colic in infants.

For Yourself Touch Attach Connect

Aside from the physiological benefits, baby yoga fosters deeper emotional attachments between the parent and the baby. Throughout the exercises, the parent holds and touches the baby and the sedation of touch helps strengthen paternal or maternal bonds. The sensation of touch also promotes circulation, which gives both the parent and infant feelings of calm and relaxation. Parents who enroll in baby yoga classes are also given the opportunity to socialize with other mothers and fathers and discuss “new parents’ stuff”. The classes are also great places for babies to interact with other infants for the first time.

Is It Safe To Do Yoga With My Baby

There are so many reasons why doing yoga with your baby is a fantastic idea. In addition to getting you out of the house and into the world of mamas who are on the same journey as you, taking a Mommy-and-Me type yoga class is a sweet way to bond with your baby outside the confines of the normal daily routine. 

Additionally, yoga is a safe, healthy way to speed up your postpartum recovery. It strengthens core and pelvic muscles, and rebuilds strength, flexibility, and balance in your post-pregnancy body.

That said, safety is always always the top priority for you and your baby. Check in with your OB before signing up for a class. Most physicians recommend postpartum moms wait at least six to eight weeks before getting back into an exercise routine, and you may need to wait longer than that depending on your labor and postpartum recovery process.

Yoga safe and fun to do with your baby as long as you adhere to the following conditions:

Benefits For Both Baby And Parent

I noticed my daughter often has a great lunchtime nap after baby yoga practice. This used to happen after a baby massage class too so it didn’t surprise me to learn they share many of the same benefits, including promoting restful sleep through active play. I asked my baby yoga teacher Sam, from Vital Cores in London, what the other main benefits of baby yoga are:

Strengthening parent and baby bonding through interaction and touch

Mobilising the baby’s hip and shoulder joints

Activating and stimulating vestibular system

Strengthening the baby’s essential neck and core muscles

Developing the baby’s language skills through singing

Aiding digestion by relieving constipation and trapped wind

Toning the baby’s digestive system

For me, another huge benefit to attending baby yoga classes is the social aspect of meeting other Mums and babies. It also helps add some more structure to the day and gives me something different to do with my baby. In the classes I attended, each week there was a different theme so even with set routines to follow it still felt new and entertaining.

Baby yoga is suitable for 12-week old babies until they are pre-walking. We started them when my daughter was around four months old and have continued to do so every week since. The classes are currently moved online due to social distancing measures and this has worked just as well, giving us more positive things to do from the home.

Origin Of Human Movement Behavior

The development of human motion in a Darwinian sense began from

climbing trees to standing, to cave dwelling and

running upright to escape from predators

while carrying a baby or a weapon

Evolving this way, humans developed quite a unique and technically challenging vocabulary of movement. Re-learning kids moves helps to become agile and comfortable at all levels of action. Be it squatting, crawling, climbing or hanging, jumping or running. Coincidentally or possibly devised by really wise people, many yoga asanas represent basic positions needed to achieve such a rich movement vocabulary that small children possess naturally. The amazing thing is that kids do it automatically and with great ease. It may be time for us to find our physical inner child?

What a big heavy head the baby has to learn to carry!

What Age Can You Start Baby Yoga

The best time to start is probably after your baby is 6 weeks old, once you have had your check and the baby has better neck control to keep them safe. By then you will also likely have more confidence. Always look at your little one to check their reaction and to ensure you are doing things they enjoy, it is all about really simple yoga stretches, not complex moves. If you have any concerns at all then consult your health visitor or GP.

It Enhances Your Babys Wellbeing

The movements in a baby yoga class are specifically designed to enhance your baby’s wellbeing. Babies find repetitive movements soothing, and their cortisol levels—or the amount of stress hormone in their body—naturally go down, resulting in a stronger immune system. As a result, babies aren’t as prone to strong ups or downs and crying fits, and they can fall asleep more easily, meaning more time for you to rest! Some poses can even improve digestion, so you might notice that your baby has fewer issues with colic or wind after a baby yoga class.

When Should We Start Baby Yoga

You can start baby yoga as soon as you like. It really depends on when you feel ready, especially if you’re a mum who has just given birth.

Ideally wait until your six week check-up so your GP can give you the all clear for exercising. This is important if you’ve had a C-section, or have had any postnatal complications.

Dads can take their babies whenever they like – there’s no reason to wait. It can really help dads and their babies to bond, particularly if mum is breastfeeding.

Will Your Baby Like Yoga Class

This depends a lot on the personality of the baby. Some delight in the new sights and stimulation of the classroom environment and are perfectly content to look around and take it all in. Others are freaked out by the very same stimulations and may cry a lot at first. They may eventually get used to it, so don’t give up if the first class doesn’t go well. A few babies may snooze through the whole thing.

Is Baby Yoga Actually A Thing

Baby yoga is pretty much what it sounds like – yoga with our babies. It’s much gentler and slower compared to traditional yoga. A lot of the moves are adapted for, or to do with, babies.

You don’t need to know anything about yoga to take part in a baby yoga class – you just need a baby!

It can be a very relaxing experience for the two of you as doing gentle exercise, such as yoga, releases endorphins. These hormones encourage happiness and more love for your baby.

This can help with bonding, which is particularly great for dads. Attending a class can also help you to meet like-minded parents in your area – something which can be difficult when you’re a parent!

Try A Nearby Baby Yoga Class

Make sure to do baby yoga in a class with a trained and certified instructor rather than on your own. Keeping your baby safe and secure is a priority, and a proper baby yoga teacher will let you know about important body mechanics, such as keeping your baby’s head supported if they’re less than six months old.

Once you do find the right baby yoga class, you and your baby might enjoy it so much that you’ll be really excited for the next session! Baby yoga brings the benefits of yoga to both you and your baby, and you’ll feel the difference right after.

A Tutorial For Yoga Teachers

Have you ever had a student come to your class, having recently had a total hip replacement, and tell you her doctor gave her no restrictions in movement whatsoever, encouraging her to do whatever she likes? It can and does happen — and you’re right if you’re suspicious as to whether the doctor is giving correct advice.

But are you prepared to help such people participate in your class safely? I hope in this article to help you do exactly that.

Anatomy Of A Hip Replacement

First, I’d like to take you through some basic hip anatomy, and acquaint you with how the joint is actually replaced.

In recent years, there have been advances in the way total hip replacements are being done. A significantly different approach now coexists with the earlier approach, with the result that we yoga teachers need to know more about hip replacements than we used to need to know. In particular, we need to revise the precautions that we have been offering to yoga students who have undergone this orthopedic surgery.

The following illustration and explanation will help you understand what hip replacement is all about:

A total hip replacement is a cup-shaped indentation in the pelvis.

During hip replacement surgery, the head of the femur is removed and replaced with a metal ball set on a stem. The stem is inserted into the canal of the femur. It may be fixed in place with cement, or the stem may be designed for placement without bone cement. The socket is sanded down to healthy bone, and a plastic cup or socket is held in place with screws and/or bone cement.

Hatha Yoga Prepares The Body

Another aspect of hatha yoga, when one wants to move into deeper dimensions of meditation, is that it allows for a higher possibility of energy. If you want your energies to surge upwards, it is very important that the pipeline of the body is conducive. If it is blocked, it will not work, or else, something will burst. Preparing the body sufficiently before one goes into more intense forms of meditation is very important. Hatha yoga ensures that the body takes it gently and joyfully.

Today, the hatha yoga that people are learning is not in its classical form, not in its full depth and dimension. Largely the “studio yoga” that you are seeing today is unfortunately just the physical aspect of it. Just teaching the physical aspect of yoga is like having a stillborn baby. That is not only no good, it is a tragedy. If you want a live process, it needs to be taught in a certain way.

Hatha yoga does not mean twisting your body, standing on your head, or holding your breath. There was a time when I was personally teaching hatha yoga as a two-day program. People would burst with joy; tears of ecstasy would flow simply doing asanas. That is the way yoga needs to be done. Unfortunately, the hatha yoga in the world today brings peace for some, is healthful for others is and a painful circus for many.

More Energy While Parenting

Although it may not seem that way initially, additional exercise does actually provide the body with more energy. While getting your parenting on, get more energy to continue parenting later, because as we know, it is a 24-hour job by exploring poses and ways to alleviate stress through yoga.

The best part? You get to do it all with your little one. Mommy and me yoga helps mom prepare for the rest of her day and gives that added energetic boost she needs.

Yoga For Babies: Is It Safe

27 February 2012

They may not be able to walk or talk, but they have no problem arching their bodies into the downward dog pose. Yes, toddlers and babies are doing yoga — studios now offer classes for kids as young as 6 weeks old.

Yoga advocates say the classes can help parents and infants bond, and promote development of motor skills. And just as yoga helps adults become more aware of their bodies, yoga can help parents become attuned to their babies wants and needs, said Helen Garabedian, founder of the Itsy Bitsy Yoga, a yoga studio for babies and kids, and author of books by the same name.

Doctors say , like any movement, can be beneficial for babies, but parents need to take precautions to do it safely.

Yoga poses

Garabedian started her yoga practice for babies, toddlers and kids in 1999, as a way to share yoga with her own children and bring like-minded parents together. One pose called “baby planet” involves a parent lifting a baby’s arms to her side as the baby lies on her back, and then bringing her arms to her chest. A pose called corkscrew, which Garabedian says aids digestion, involves placing the baby on his back and slowly rotating his thighs with your forefingers.

Toddlers can try the “down dog” — in which the hands and feet remain on the floor while the hips are elevated. There is also the “up dog,” in which the child lies down on her belly, then lifts her head and chest by extending her arms out straight, and resting on her palms.

Yoga risks

Benefits Of Yoga For Babies

Helps develop motor and sensory skills. The simple stretches and poses can help your baby gain self and environmental awareness. Of course your baby doesn’t need to be running marathons right out of the womb — but experts believe that early activity can help your little one develop voluntary movements, which can build a strong foundation for sports, dance and exercise later on in adulthood.

Aids in digestion. Apanasana, or knees-to-chest pose, has been shown to alleviate constipation, gas pains and .  

Promotes better sleep. Although it’s not guaranteed, some parents report their babies sleep better after attending baby yoga classes.

The Science Of Hatha Yoga

Hatha yoga is not exercise. Understanding the mechanics of the body, creating a certain atmosphere, and then using body postures to drive your energy in specific directions is what hatha yoga or are about. “Asana” means a “posture.” That kind of posture which allows you to reach your higher nature is a yogasana. There are other dimensions to this, but to put it in the simplest way, just by observing the way someone is sitting, you can almost know what is happening with him, if you have known him long enough. If you have observed yourself, when you are angry, you sit one way; if you are happy, you sit another way; if you are depressed, you sit another way. For every different level of consciousness or mental and emotional situation that you go through, your body naturally tends to assume certain postures. The converse of this is the science of asanas. If you consciously get your body into different postures, you can elevate your consciousness.

There are thousands of people who have come out of spinal problems by doing simple asanas. Doctors had told them they would definitely have to go through a surgery, but they never had to. Your back can be restored to such an excellent condition that you will never need to go to a chiropractor. It is not only your spine that becomes flexible; you also become flexible. Once you are flexible, you are willing to listen, not just to someone’s talk; you are willing to listen to life. Learning to listen is the essence of a sensible life.

Details Of The Procedure

Want to get a look at how this procedure is done? Well, don’t get your own hip replaced unless you need to. Instead, go to the following website to try your hand at being a virtual surgeon by replacing a hip with the traditional “posterior” approach: www.edheads.org/activities/hip/

It is quite a fun and enlightening exercise. Don’t worry if you are squeamish; it is animated so there’s minimal blood and guts. The best thing is, nobody gets hurt even if you mess up!

In traditional hip replacement surgery, surgeons access the joint area through the upper thigh, either through the lateral , this is called posterior hip replacement.

Contrast that with a newer surgical approach: anterior hip replacement, which is gaining popularity because it spares the muscles and allows quicker recovery time. This procedure is performed with the patient lying on his or her back on a specially designed surgical table. This position lets the surgeon access the joint from the front of the hip area without surgically detaching any muscles. Instead, the hip joint is reached through naturally occurring openings between the muscles.

Photo of hana® Orthopedic Surgical Table is from mizuhosi.com/profx.cfm, used with permission from the manufacturer

As you can see from the above photo of positioning on the special table used for the anterior approach, the hip is placed in extension for the procedure.

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Apple of My Eye

By Christine Barfknecht

Publication Date: August 4, 2018   Genre: Psychological Suspense

Synopsis:

Laurie Brandon isn’t crazy. It’s a bout of panic that has her muttering indecipherable sounds and crying out like a mad woman, an attack brought on by her infant daughter’s sudden disappearance from the town’s annual Apple Festival. Not insanity. She needs help to save Emily. Someone has to see that, do something. 

But her recent history of psychosis coupled with witness claims that Emily was never at the festival with Laurie isn’t helping her credibility. Neither is recent suspension from her job as a school teacher over stability concerns. Perhaps most damaging, though, is Laurie’s insistence that her ex-husband, Jake, had something to do with the child’s disappearance. Any sane person knows a dead man can’t run off with a baby. 

The town sheriff believes Laurie is, at best, unreliable and possibly something much worse. But Laurie knows what she saw. She knows other things, too, details too hard to believe and even harder to accept. Now, she needs to convince someone – anyone – that Emily is in danger before the sheriff locks Laurie away permanently.

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Excerpt:

Chapter One

Laurie

September 18, 2018

I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.

With a wave of dizziness, I hunch forward, my head hanging low, my palms pressing against a cool, hard surface. The evening sky blackens before my eyes and the chill in the air raises goosebumps on my arms despite my fleece lined sweatshirt. I can’t think straight, can barely breathe. 

The silhouette in the darkness…that posture, poised to take action…

I didn’t need to see a face. I’d know that stance anywhere. But it isn’t possible.

I chew on my lip, try to gnaw the panic away. It has to be possible. I saw with my own eyes.

I can’t just stand here and wait, need to do something, find help. No one will believe me, though. It’s hard enough for me to believe me. It won’t help that everyone seems to think I’m out of my mind.

A tingling sensation shoots through my head like a strike of lightning and heat spreads through my body, starting in my head and washing through my chest. My heart beats so fast I fear it will burst. I remind myself to breathe. It’s just a panic attack. I’ve had plenty before and right now, it’s no wonder. Soon it will be over. I’ll be back to normal, get help, make someone believe me. Someone will help. They have to.

Breathe in, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

A fog settles in my head, sprinkling over my mind like chalk dust. I find myself gasping, my heart racing faster and harder. This symptom is new. I blink, trying to focus on the brick surface of the street but it’s a blur. The dust is growing thicker, an eraser materializing, brushing over my mind and randomly choosing which memories to wipe away.

Not my memory. I must remember. 

My palms slide farther over the surface of…a table, counter…I’m not sure, but it’s rough like a sheet of unfinished wood. I lean hunched over it, struggling to breathe as I peer beneath my arm to look behind me.

Emily. My sweet baby girl.

She sits in her stroller, kicking her feet and cooing at the plush doll in her chubby fist. Cold flushes her cheeks pink, but the fleece bonnet tied beneath her chin keeps her head warm.

She’s here. She’s safe. I think. I’m not entirely sure. The fog is getting thicker, her image waving in and out as if it may not be real. I have no way of knowing. In this state, I can’t trust my eyes.

Maybe I can’t trust what I saw before either.

No. That was different. Not panic induced. Real.

A high-pitched shrill slices my skull, piercing my eardrums before fading to a crackle. Light flashes, then dozens of white stars appear.

“Laurie?” A voice slices through the static. 

I force myself to stand up straight and blink. Lights swim before a backdrop of blackness and voices echo around me. Screaming. But in a happy way. The scent of grease lingers in the air, mingling with a sweet and spicy smell, like sugared cinnamon.

The lights twirl and I blink again. A Tilt-a-Whirl spins, masses of people passing in front of it. My eyes are drawn to one man, not because I know him but because he looks like a marionette, his arms outstretched, pulled by strings. My gaze follows the threads to four little dogs, Teacup Pomeranians, the kind Jake would never let me have.

“Ankle biters. Useless yippers.” I hear the rage in his voice, the unwarranted anger I’d become accustomed to. “Food for real dogs, that’s what they are.” That’s my translation, the clean version with every other word removed. 

“Laurie, are you okay?” That voice again, soft and feminine, though drowning in background music.

I bring my vision in, notice a woman standing on the opposite side of a counter before me. I know her, Rochelle, a good friend of my mother’s. Two pies sit on the counter between us and she holds a wad of bills in her hand. A cool breeze brushes my skin, whisking the aroma of the pies toward me. Apple.

A memory washes over me, replacing Rochelle’s current image with one of her in my mother’s kitchen from many years ago. I see Rochelle pressing dough into pie tins, hear my mother counting with me as I measure sugar and sprinkle it over a huge bowl of sliced apples. “One…two…”

I’m five years old and wearing my favorite apron. Mom made it for me, complete with an embroidered apple on the chest. In front of me mom’s apple shaped clock ticks on the wall. Except for Christmas it’s my favorite time of year, being with mom in the kitchen and baking pies for the festival.

I blink, focus on Rochelle. Present day Rochelle. I remember. The Apple Festival. I’m in a booth selling pies to support the school. I brought Emily. My friend, Josie, came too. I look beside me, but Josie isn’t there. She must have stepped away.

Rochelle is still staring at me, her eyes wrinkled with concern. I force a smile and straighten my back, pulling myself off the countertop. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just getting a migraine.” I can’t tell her the truth. Everything I love is already in jeopardy; Emily, my job. Thanks to Jake, rumors of my supposed insanity spread over town as quickly as softened butter over a slice of bread.

I’m fine. I am. Postpartum psychosis, the doctor called it. My-wife’s-an-effing-nut-case, Jake called it.

Ex-wife. Almost. He forgets that part.

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As I blink my thoughts away and hone in on Rochelle, I can’t help wondering what she thinks of me. Does she believe I have a migraine or is she waiting for the right moment to make an emergency call to the mental hospital?

“You scared me for a minute there,” Rochelle says, handing me the bills in her hand. “Keep the change. For the school.”

I force another smile and take the bills from her, my hands trembling with the aftereffects of my attack. I’m still trying to get my bearings, breathe in and out, slow the hammering of my heart.

Rochelle hoists her purse on her shoulder, a huge tan bag that causes my shoulder to ache just looking at it. “You sure you’re all right?”

I nod and force my mind to focus. My name is Laurie Brandon. I’m a second grade teacher. I’m in Jackson, Ohio at the Apple Festival. My hometown. I glance at the surface of the street where the booth sits, the brick street confirming my location. A few blocks away, lights illuminate the water tower hovering over the town, painted red to resemble an apple and embellished in a green leaf with a pipe protruding from the top as the stem.

I live on Mountain Valley Road. My parents are Gary and Paula Barreau. Emily is nine months old.

My heart rate slows and my body relaxes, the routine stabilizing me. I take a deep, long breath. I’m okay. Everything is fine. I’ll call the doctor in the morning. The medication she gave me has been working well. It’s just the extreme stress, my psychopath-almost-ex-husband worsening my psychosis, if that makes sense.

I remember. There’s more. I let out a gasp.

“I can tend the booth for you if you want to head home to lie down,” Rochelle offers.

I don’t hear Emily behind me. It shouldn’t surprise me. I can barely hear Rochelle over the crooning country band a block down the street. Still, I spin on my heels to check on my daughter.

She isn’t there.

My eyes shoot left to right so fast the plywood walls of the booth seem to flail. Emily… She was there just a moment ago in her stroller, wasn’t she? I saw her. I looked behind me, under my arm… I thought she was there.

My heart races again, my stomach turns, fog swirls in my brain. I can’t help questioning myself, replaying the day through my mind to make certain I brought Emily with me. I picture Josie in the booth and Emily right behind us in her stroller, just like I saw her earlier.

It was today, wasn’t it? My breathing grows faster, intensifying the dizziness. I’m not sure. The fog needs more time to clear. I force a deep breath. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

“Laurie?” Rochelle’s voice jumbles with my thoughts.

I just need a moment to get through this and then everything will make sense. Maybe I’m remembering another day. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.

In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

But I spot something on the street. I lean in, force myself to study it, make sure of what I see.

There is no mistaking; it’s Emily’s soft pink doll. If she wasn’t here, where did the doll come from?

The next scream I hear rolling over the crowd is my own.

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Author Bio:

Christine Barfknecht has a passion for weaving the darkest bits of the human psyche into page-turning fiction. She’s been crafting stories since before she printed her first word and credits her overactive imagination to a lifelong love of reading. She seeks out books that keep her hiding beneath the covers at night or turning pages long after her eyes begin to cross, and strives for those qualities in her own writing. 

Christine lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband, children, and pets where she is also a virtual bookkeeping entrepreneur. In addition to reading and writing, she enjoys gardening, crafts, time with family, and traveling. APPLE OF MY EYE is her debut novel.

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From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.

[orbemnews]

How Covid Survivors Are Finding Their Way Into Politics Pamela Addison is, in her own words, “one of the shyest people in this world.” Certainly not the sort of person who would submit an op-ed to a newspaper, or start a support group for strangers, or ask a United States senator to vote for $1.9 trillion legislation. No one is more surprised than her that, in the past five months, she has done all of those things. Her husband, Martin Addison, a 44-year-old health care worker in New Jersey, died from the coronavirus on April 29 after a month of illness. The last time she saw him was when he was loaded into an ambulance. At 37, Ms. Addison was left to care for a 2-year-old daughter and an infant son, and to make ends meet on her own. “Seeing the impact my story has had on people — it has been very therapeutic and healing for me,” she said. “And knowing that I’m doing it to honor my husband gives me the greatest joy, because I’m doing it for him.” With the United States’ staggering coronavirus death toll — more than 535,000 people — come thousands of stories like hers. Many people who have lost loved ones, or whose lives have been upended by long-haul symptoms, have turned to political action, seeking answers and new policies from a government whose failures under the Trump administration allowed the country to become one of the hardest hit by the pandemic. There is Marjorie Roberts, who got sick while managing a hospital gift shop in Atlanta and now has lung scarring. Mary Wilson-Snipes, still on oxygen more than two months after coming home from the hospital. John Lancos, who lost his wife of 41 years on April 23. Janis Clark, who lost her husband of 38 years the same day. In January, they and dozens of others participated in an advocacy training session over Zoom, run by a group called Covid Survivors for Change. This month, the group organized virtual meetings with the offices of 16 senators — 10 Democrats and six Republicans — and more than 50 group members lobbied for the coronavirus relief package. The immediate purpose of the training session was to take people who, in many cases, had never so much as attended a school board meeting and teach them to do things like lobby a senator. The longer-term purpose was to confront the problem of numbers. Numbers are dehumanizing, as activists like to say. In sufficient quantities — 536,472 as of Wednesday morning, for instance — they are also numbing. This is why converting numbers into people is so often the job of activists seeking policy change after tragedy. Mothers Against Drunk Driving, founded by a woman whose daughter was killed by a drunken driver, did that. Groups that promote stricter gun laws, like Moms Demand Action and March for Our Lives, have sought to do it. Now, some coronavirus survivors think it’s their turn. “That volume, that collective national trauma, is almost too hard for people to grasp,” said Chris Kocher, who is the executive director of Covid Survivors for Change and previously worked with gun violence survivors at Everytown for Gun Safety. “But you can understand one story and one life lived.” Mr. Kocher started organizing C.S.C. last summer — with a “minimal” budget, he said — and the group launched publicly in October with a remembrance event featuring Dionne Warwick. Shortly before they lobbied their senators on March 3, C.S.C. members heard from someone who was once in their position: Representative Lucy McBath of Georgia, who joined Moms Demand Action after her son, Jordan Davis, was killed in 2012. She discussed her own experience moving from a personal tragedy into political activism, and how survivors’ stories could influence elected officials. One C.S.C. member, Ms. Wilson-Snipes, 52, also worked with Moms Demand Action; she started a chapter in Junction City, Kan., after her son, Felix, was fatally shot in 2018. Then, in November, she got Covid-19 and was hospitalized with pneumonia. Ms. Wilson-Snipes came home on Christmas Eve with an oxygen machine, which she still needs. Her lungs are still inflamed, her chest still painful. While the policies she promoted with Moms Demand Action are different from the ones she and others are advocating with Covid Survivors for Change — like mask-wearing, and financial assistance for people affected by the virus — she said the message was the same: “You could be in my family’s shoes, in my shoes.” That was also the message Ms. Addison conveyed in an op-ed article after President Donald J. Trump contracted the coronavirus and told the nation, “Don’t be afraid of Covid.” That was the moment she became angry enough to speak, she said, because Mr. Trump’s words “were probably the most painful words I’d ever heard a leader say.” Updated  March 17, 2021, 10:30 a.m. ET The Star-Ledger published Ms. Addison’s op-ed in October, and the intensity of the response shocked her. “I’d never really thought about it that way — that I could use my story to make change,” she said. She decided to create a Facebook group for newly widowed parents, and found her first members from comments on her op-ed. In January, she participated in the Covid Survivors for Change training. This month, she and other members in New Jersey spoke with Senator Cory Booker’s office. Another cohort spoke with the office of Senator Jon Ossoff of Georgia. One of them was Ms. Roberts, 60, the former gift shop manager with lung damage from the virus. “March 26 I woke up, I was fine,” Ms. Roberts said. “And by the time the sun went down that night, my whole life and my whole family’s life had been changed forever.” After the Ossoff meeting, she called Mr. Kocher in tears. In almost a year, she said, it was the first time she had felt heard. The political mobilization of coronavirus survivors is still in early stages, and it is impossible to know whether it will fade once the pandemic is over or solidify into something lasting. But Covid Survivors for Change is not the only group seeking long-term changes. Another organization, Marked by Covid — founded by Kristin Urquiza, who lost her father to the virus and spoke at the Democratic National Convention — recently released a sweeping policy platform. Among other things, it calls for a “public health job force” of a million people to perform tasks like contact tracing, a restitution program similar to the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund, and a commission to examine the government’s pandemic response. The platform also includes much more contentious proposals, like a federal jobs guarantee, universal health care and child care, medical and student debt cancellation, and a ban on importation of products linked to deforestation. Ms. Urquiza said the idea was to address factors that make pandemics more likely, and to make Americans economically secure enough to weather crises. “It’s really not only about ensuring that we are responding to the most urgent pieces that are in front of our face right now,” she said. Covid Survivors for Change, by contrast, has no official platform. Though the members who lobbied Congress did so in support of President Biden’s stimulus package, the group is nonpartisan and has focused on training survivors to promote policies they choose. Several members said the virus had drawn them into the political arena in ways that would have shocked them a year ago. Janis Clark, 65, said her husband, Ron Clark, had always been the politically active one. “Whenever he’d watch politics, it’d be like, ‘Here comes the half-hour dissertation,’” she said, laughing. “I’d get nervous about P.T.A. functions.” Mr. Clark died on April 23, after two weeks at home with a fever as high as 104 and more than three weeks on a ventilator. He never learned that his daughter was pregnant. Desperate for someone to understand what the virus’s toll really meant, Ms. Clark started writing. She wrote to Representative Paul Tonko, Democrat of New York, who represents her district around Albany. She wrote to Senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand. She didn’t know they were unlikely to reply. “I just wanted somebody to hear my story,” she said. “And it was like, how do you reach these people? I don’t know what the right avenue is. I’d never written my congressman about anything.” In February, Ms. Clark signed an open letter that Covid Survivors for Change organized, urging senators to pass a relief package and calling for a reimbursement program for funeral costs and more medical resources for survivors. Now, she thinks she might do more — maybe even attend a demonstration once it’s safe. For some people, this feels like building something out of rubble. Mr. Lancos met his wife, Joni Lancos, when he was a National Park Service interpreter at Federal Hall in Manhattan and she was a clerk working on the third floor. Their first date was Nov. 3, 1977. He took her to a Broadway show featuring the Danish pianist Victor Borge. Last April, 41 years and 15 days after their wedding and less than 18 hours after her first symptoms, she died in a Brooklyn I.C.U. There was no memorial service, not when the streets of New York City were screaming day and night with the sirens of ambulances carrying the dying. So Mr. Lancos, 70, sifted through the wreckage of grief and his own infection — which left him with brain fog and short-term memory loss — in isolation. The funeral home sent him five photos of a rabbi praying over his wife’s coffin. “That was it,” Mr. Lancos said through tears. “That was my funeral for my wife, seeing those five photos.” On March 3, he was one of the Covid Survivors for Change members who spoke with the office of Mr. Schumer, the Senate majority leader. Afterward, he recorded a short message for a video. “I think Joni would —” he said, pausing to taking a steadying breath, “be proud of what I did today.” Source link Orbem News #Covid #finding #Politics #Survivors

[bastardbutch]

Dad's two other daughters, brother, and late sister-in-law are visiting for Mom's death. We're living in a large trailer and the inside is a lot like my uncle's old house in Kentucky - it’s a small, compact house on a raised foundation sitting on blocks. It’s dimly lit by old incandescent ceiling lights, all brown and black hues, and at the start of the dream, Mikhail and I are very young. We're sitting on the floor by the stairs to the basement of our childhood home with the door open playing with our toys. Mom is small, withered, always crying with her eyes closed; we're taking care of her, but I seem to already accept that she's dead. Mikhail and I are grown suddenly and the only ones paying attention to her. We have to pick her up off the floor where she's sitting in the corner in the fetal position, change her diaper, and get her into her recliner. We cover her up and kiss her head and she sleeps restlessly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She feels cold. The whole time Dad is radiating orange and yellow, menacing, energetic and laughing; he's soaking up all the attention his family is giving him and ignoring Mom completely, except when talking about her garners him sympathy. The TV is always on too loud and Wayne and Dad are drinking, smoking, and playing cards. Olivia and Michelle are misshapen, deformed and disfigured; necks crooked the wrong way, limbs at unnatural angles, skin drooping from their faces. Michelle is angry and mean, and Olivia has this unnerving fake smile put on, eyes sad. At one point, I sit down at my at my dad's computer and see a bunch of nude/sexual photos she put up publicly on Facebook open on his internet browser. Mom passes in the night. The funeral takes place in the morning as a kind of non-event, a small gathering in our front lawn with just family standing and staring at a closed coffin, an urn with her ashes sitting on top of it. It's sunny and warm out, and the sky is bright blue. Afterwards Mikhail and I go out, talking and shopping just to be away from the house - the store is a brief walk away and consists only of aisles set up in an open area, without a building to surround it. I stop at display where there is a skin suit dressed in a pink and purple tutu hanging up surrounded by candy necklaces, children's costume jewelry, and off brand barbies that I stand and look at for a long time. I find it strange, but Mikhail doesn't seem to think much of it, and we go home.

Next thing I remember, I'm being guided through our childhood home by my five year old cousin Mara. It's Christmas afternoon. The house is a mess and set up differently than we ever did it, with the tree in the dining room and gifts piled in the living room. It looks a lot like it did when I was growing up before we did any renovations. Mom, Dad, my uncle Kevin, and my grandma are sitting around the table talking. Mikhail and some cousins his age, toddlers, are playing with their gifts in the living room. I'm an infant dressed in a blue onesie and the family is cooing at me and playing with me. Uncle Kevin picks me up and airplane flies me over his head, only to promptly drop me onto the table; I land flat on my stomach and, still watching all this grown as I am now with Mara, she shrugs and says, "Yup, same thing as always" in her sarcastic little kid voice. She takes me by the hand and ushers me along to keep walking with the her, but I am distracted and looking over my shoulder at my family, worried; my infant self is struggling to breathe from having the wind knocked out of her, but nobody makes an effort to pick her up or soothe her. They carry on talking, laughing, and drinking. Mikhail comes over and seems to be trying to get their attention, but he can't say what is wrong; he's very young and can't do anything to help, and none of of the adults notice him either.

Then everyone's gone and I'm back in the trailer park. I'm in dad's camper with him and I don't remember the conversation we were having, just that he told me he wants to kill me. He waves an unloaded pistol as he speaks, matter-of-fact and almost good humored. He's going to, and he'll get away with it because nobody will believe me if I tell them; nobody will care if I die and he'd be doing everyone a favor, he tells me. I rush off to find my aunt Jenny and frantically confide in her, hoping for safety.

"Are you sure?" she asks with a raised brow. "That doesn't sound like him. Maybe he was joking, or he didn't mean it that way..."

I'm angry and desperate. "He literally told me he was going to do it today! He said he was going to shoot me. I need your help, please - I have to get out of here!"

"Your dad loves you. I can't see him ever hurting you on purpose."

I realize it's pointless and go to find Mikhail to tell him instead. He thinks for a second. "That sounds scary, but I don't have the full story. I'm not saying I don't believe you, but there's not a lot of hard evidence for me to go off of."

"I'll show you." I take him to dad's camper and show him the pistol Dad was brandishing at me, unloaded. "He went out to get some bullets for it. He's going to fucking kill me with this gun. I'm going to die today if we don't do something."

Finally he seems to understand and he says he believes me. He takes me with him on his trip to the airport so I'm safe at least for the moment, and we shoot the shit and listen to music on the way there. Everything is orange and yellow and sunny, with that same bright, cloudless sky. We drive with the windows down. When he has to board his plane I'm scared, but he promises he'll be back soon. I take a cab back home and the next thing I can recall is that everybody has gone and I'm alone with Dad in his camper; this one is a few lots away from the mobile home we were staying in before. He's picked up a sniper rifle along with ammo. We have a confrontation and then I'm running through the barren farm land by the park - a wide, rectangular plot of dry orange clay, overlooked by a large steel government surveillance building, with old wooden sheds here and there on the perimeter of a barbed wire fence which is keeping me from getting out. Beyond the wire are endless sand dunes that I know I'd have to travel for a long time, but I'd be free if I could get to them; however, they're too open to safely run through without risking a bullet, and I have to bide my time. In this place, I get the sense that parents kill their kids a lot. I can almost feel the other children hiding in the out buildings, and the unmarked graves of those who have been lost; I know that we have no protection here. My dad is hunting me and taunting me, occasionally shooting at me. I hide in the sheds. The old shacks remind me of other barns I see in my dreams often, made entirely of wood and filled with cobwebs, dust, and miscellaneous furniture and house wares, bathed in yellow tones. My dad always finds me and cuts me off from slipping through the fence, and I am getting tired and running slower and slower with him closing in on me. The whole time he has this awful smile and he's telling me what he's going to do to me. He's going to torture me, kill me slowly, put a bullet through my brain so I can't babble on anymore. He tells me how worthless I am, what a hateful, selfish piece of shit I am, how glad he's going to be to finally be rid of me. I was only good for my c*nt and my pretty looks, but I had to go and spoil it by opening my mouth, by cutting my hair. He calls me a whore, a slut, says I deserve to be r*ped.

Somehow none of his bullets ever catch; I've run circular, back home to grab my bag with my wallet and a hunting knife in it, and he corners me in his camper. I manage to escape somehow and bolt through a small patch of tall pines separating the trailer park from the farm land, and put some distance between us as I dash through a field to the government security building in the right corner. At some point he switches to a BB gun even though he still has his pistol and sniper rifle, and I want to laugh, but I realize that I have to keep up the show so I don't revitalize his anger - and then I solemnly recognize that I can’t be sure a BB pellet still won’t do some damage, or that he’s not using some different kind of projectile for it, and if he catches me he can still hurt me. But I feel safe enough to slow my pace and wade through some bushes as he follows me. I catch my brother and aunt once I make it inside the surveillance facility, and my aunt finally tells me she believes me after talking to my brother. It doesn't matter - I don't trust her anymore. I don't remember if they do anything to stop him, or if maybe he kills himself instead, I just know that the threat has diminished.

I've got a job working for the government there, but while Mikhail is in higher ranks working for national security, I'm in hospitality like I was at Yellowstone. I think we serve the military workers. I'm hanging out with all of the other low-end hires at some big party. The commons area is a small enclosed space inside the steel building with artificial sunlight, some grass, young trees, and a waterfall from the wall which runs off into a small creek and ends at a pool of water. I'm sitting on the ground with my knees drawn to my chest in my pajamas. I'm tired and I don't feel like being there, let alone drinking, but Ben (who looks like Jesse Lacey) is urging me to. I think I said something to piss him off, because after the party we get into a blow up fight and his friends are ganging up on me; when I leave, he's furious and he says I've ruined his life and he won't let me off so easily. I find myself running again, but instead dashing through the field, I'm trying to find my way through a maze of empty, steel-walled rooms throughout the military compound. They're long enough to lie down in but the ceilings are so low I have to crouch, connected by narrow vent-like tunnels I have to squeeze through. He's chasing me and taunting me like my dad did; eventually he starts singing. It sounds like Brand New, but slowed down and orchestral with his voice over it. I keep finding lyric pages I feel compelled to collect as clues - like I can't get out until I have evidence, whether for myself or other people, of how dangerous he really is. I can understand what they say, but they’re confusing to read; the font looks like the script from a fantasy book. But while his lyrics talk overtly about wanting to hurt girls and drain the life from them, reducing them to sex objects, using them, I know nobody else will take what he says seriously; I feel like I have to crack the code so they’ll understand. I figure out some of the rooms have false bottoms, with a layer of ice and snow or a steel door and then beneath that, deep, black water in which I'm hiding. It doesn't feel cold and breathing isn't an issue; I swim through the water from room to room. He always finds me. He's always talking or singing, waxing poetic about what a monster he is, and sometimes I furiously jot down what he says. But I'm losing the pages and eventually, he’s in the water with me and I have to find my way out - I know if I don't he will drown me by dragging me into the deep.

The rooms start getting more detailed, mostly filled with his things. Then they're the dorm rooms of other seasonal workers. A Halloween party is going on around us and everybody is dressed up, even me; I've chosen to be a vampire, but my costume is fake and chintzy and everybody else's seems to be real, all werewolves and witches in the flesh. I feel exposed, confused, and isolated, but I have to go along. They see him chasing me, but nobody says or does anything. He's started to shape shift from someone who looks like Jesse Lacey to various ghouls and monsters; at one point he's the tall, bald, white-skinned man from Gerald's Game, and at another, he’s a skinny, red devil with long horns and limbs. He no longer has a gun but instead claws and sharp teeth he will tear me apart with. His final form is that of a huge, grotesque, vampiric demon, with spines on its hunched back and many piercing red eyes. His jaw unhinges to expose row after row of long, gnarled fangs, and I watch in horror as he devours another person whole to show me what he's going to do to me. I'm cornered.

Next thing I know, he looks like Jesse Lacey again and we're acting normal so we can go on a boating trip with his friends, but he still has a pistol hidden in his waistband. I am calculating when I can take it and run. We take a pontoon out onto the lake and everybody jumps in and they're swimming under water. The water is clear and blue, deep, and the bottom is all flat sand. I notice Ben is ogling a pre-teen girl, swimming behind her to stare at her ass and trying to get close to her - I am disgusted but not surprised, and mostly terrified for her safety. When everybody else swims away from us, I drag him to the bottom of the lake and start choking him; he quickly goes from anger to fear and tears, sniveling up at me, wrapping a flannel blanket around himself. Suddenly he looks like the Ben I knew in real life, kind of chubby and short with his patchy beard, and I don't feel intimidated by him anymore. My palm had barely grazed his Adam's apple and my fingers only wrapped around his throat briefly, but I stop right away when I see his reaction. I feel shame and guilt and pity, but more than anything else, contempt - no remorse. I just stare callously, eyes narrowed, and mutter to him, "How do you think it feels when you do it to me?" Still, we swim up to the dock and I help him out of the water. The uncomfortable realization that I've become an abuser dawns on me while he sobs theatrically and he goes to his friends, who group around him in protection. I don't remember what happened between this and us leaving, but I'm back in my childhood home with him and a few of his hometown friends; it's renovated as it is now, empty of my family but with signs they'd been living there before, with the lights on and unwashed dishes in the sink. It's dark out and I keep thinking Mom and Dad are going to walk in. We're having a house warming party sitting at the dining room table. His friends give us washcloths and a pack of replacement heads to an electric shaver. The latter is for me, but they're the wrong kind; I'd asked for double edges safety razor blades so I could slit my wrists and kill myself. I say thank you anyway and don't reveal my disappointment, thinking I'll just go to the store later to grab what I need, and I look across the table at Ben. He and I are engaged to be married. He looks angry and bitter, defeated; I feel like I've won the game with him, but lost my life.

[tinadesignstudiob]

week1.2

<1>Lecture:

<2>class:

1.redesign of daily exercise:

Since my last one is a little bit to detailed, this time I tried to simplify the image and focus more on the meaning.

2. Mind mapping and word lists

my three words are “sweet”, “dramatic” and “knife”. The word sweet is the most easy one to express because it contains both abstract and physical meanings. On the contrary, “dramatic” is the most difficult one for me since I do not know how to express an adjective through images.

<3>daily exercise:

The core concept of this article is about “diversity indeed matters and why”, the author explains its function of representation, more thoughts and  perspectives, how equity is different from equality and what is not a proper attitude to do that. To sum up, it mainly about embracing diversity and that’s beneficial. Therefore, I connected “diversity” to my word “sweet”. No matter how we look like or where we are from, we are all human beings. It’s just like the sweet candy or flowers, although there are hundreds of species, they all taste or smell lovely.

Here’re my drafts.

Since my friends say that not all candies are sweet 😓 and the donut one makes them hungry.....I go with the idea of flowers. No flower is ugly, the one you do not like may be others’ favorite and each kind of flower has its own special attributes. 

At first, my subtitle is “one flower doesn’t make a garden”, but in real life there is indeed rose garden which is consisted of all roses. Thus, I changed it into “one kind of flower doesn’t make a colorful garland” and redesigned the imagery to suit the title.

<4>Research:

Our big group’s topics are “HOUSING” and “GENDER”, and specially I’m more interested at “child violence” and “homeless”.

1.CHILD ABUSE Definition:

source: “Domestic Violence - Men, Women, And Children - Police Managers’ Guild Trust.” New Zealand Police Managers’ Guild Trust, 12 Aug. 2019, https://pmgt.org.nz/domestic-violence/.

Not all domestic violence is physical. Psychological and emotional abuse doesn’t leave cuts and bruises and broken bones. But the unseen, emotional damage can be as great and the effects as long-lasting.

Alcohol’s role in domestic violence. In 2018, the Police attended 133,022 family violence investigations. Oranga Tamariki data suggests that for every Police notification of children being victims of or witnessing family violence, on average two children are in the household and have the potential to be adversely affected. In 2005, 29 murders were related to family violence.

Police say that alcohol is present in about 30% of family violence incidents they attend. That does not, however, mean that alcohol is a factor in 30% of cases.The evidence, however, is that alcohol does not of itself bring about violence in the home – the underlying controlling behaviour of violent perpetrators is the danger.

2.Child Abuse Statistics:

source: Safe Childhood. https://www.unicef.org.nz/in-new-zealand/safe-childhood. Accessed 23 July 2020.

On average a child dies every five weeks as a result of violence in New Zealand, and children under 12 months old make up the majority of this statistic. Children under the age of 18 make up 20% of all violent deaths in New Zealand.

Every year Oranga Tamariki receives more than 150,000 reports of concern relating to children. Violence against kids often begins as physical punishment, and then evolves into full-scale abuse. This can cause prolonged and severe damage to young developing brains. Children under five years, and particularly infants and newborns, are most at risk of violence and maltreatment in New Zealand.Experiencing or witnessing abuse in the early years is linked to learning and anxiety disorders, mental and physical health problems, drug and alcohol abuse, insecurity and depression, low self-esteem, and early pregnancy.

Source: NZ Child Abuse Statistics. https://www.childmatters.org.nz /insights/nz-statistics/. Accessed 23 July 2020.

-On average, 1 child dies every 5 weeks in New Zealand.

-Every 8th homicide victim in New Zealand from 2004 to 31 March 2019 was a child

-More than two thirds of the victims were aged 2 or under.

-Of the cases where the killer's relationship to the victim was known, 27% were mothers, 24% were fathers, and 17% were de facto partners.

-New Zealand has the highest rate of teen suicide in the OECD

-New Zealand has the 6th highest teen pregnancy rate in the OECD

-New Zealand has the 7th highest rate of child homicide in the OECD

2.Alcoholism:

Source: Alcoholism in New Zealand -. https://alcoholrehab.com/alcoholism/alcoholism-in-new-zealand/. Accessed 23 July 2020.

1.Alcohol Statistics for New Zealand:

It is believed that as many as 60 percent of those who drink alcohol in New Zealand will at least occasionally consume more than the recommended limits. The Ministry of Health believes that one in six adults drink in a manner that would be considered hazardous. As many as 1,000 people die each year in New Zealand as a result of alcohol abuse. It is believed that one third of all arrests by the police involve people who have been drinking alcohol. The harmful use of alcohol costs New Zealand about NZ$4.4 billion each year (US$3.4 billion).

2.Drinking Culture in New Zealand:

A report by the Ministry of Health in 2009 described how 85 percent of those aged between 16 and 64 years old had consumed alcohol within the last year. There is no doubt that alcohol is the most commonly used drug in the country. There are a significant number of people who abuse alcohol and the problem shows no signs of going away. There is increasing concern about alcohol consumption among teenagers in New Zealand.

3.Alcohol Abuse in New Zealand:

It is claimed that alcohol abuse is the biggest health problem in New Zealand; The impact of alcohol abuse not only harms the individual but also their family and community. These are some of the effects of irresponsible drinking:

[thecradlerocks]

Shaken Baby Syndrome: 9 Reasons Why Shaking Your Baby Is Wrong.

The shaken baby syndrome is a critical brain injury caused by severely and violently shaking a child. Imagine the following: You’re six weeks into the motherhood journey and in the mid-night. Your hormones are “boiling” with rage. Breastfeeding is painful and your baby does not stop crying. With complete frustration, red face and anger, you grab your little one and shake her without thinking. About 50 percent of American adults do not understand the serious risk of shaken baby syndrome. Vigorously shaking a newborn baby can cause brain damage or even death. Dr. Glade Curtis and Judith Schuler, the authors of “your baby's first year”, said most baby-shaking takes less than 20 seconds, but includes almost 40-50 vibrations. It is enough to do serious harm to your child's brain.

When Does Shaken Baby Syndrome Occur?

Shaken baby syndrome occurs when a child or toddler is shaken violently and sometimes repeatedly (again and again) with or without hitting the head on something. The effects can be very serious, including lifelong injury and even death. Shaken Baby Syndrome is a type of harassing head injury that can cause: Brain damage to the child.Permanent injuries such as blindness or stroke.Death.Children under 1-year-old are at higher risk because they cry more often. However, older children can also be seriously injured if shaken violently. No child should swing at any age.

What can parents do to calm a crying baby?

Canadian Pediatric Association provides parents with information about colic and crying. The following tips can also help: Check if the crying of your baby is a sign that your baby needs something, For example diaper changes, feeding, relief from extreme heat or cold, attention or fever.Stay with your baby. It does not spoil him. However, some children do not like going from person to person.Wrap or swaddle your baby.Put the lights off and keep the environment quiet. Stimulating too much can make him cry or make the situation worse.Light music, white noise or mild relaxing noise can calm some children.Many can children calm down with movements, try walking with the baby on a sling or stroller. Rock or sway with the child in a smooth, rhythmic movement. Or try a car trip.Breast sucking can sometimes help the babies calm down and feel relaxed. This can be done by breastfeeding your baby or offering her a pacifier.Give a warm bath to your baby. Other names for shaken baby syndrome are abusive head injury, shaken impact syndrome, and whiplash shaken syndrome. Shaken baby syndrome can be defined as a type of child abuse that causes serious brain damage. It can occur even after shaking the baby for just five seconds. Children have weak neck muscles and soft brains. They also have sensitive blood vessels. Shaking a child allows their brain to hit the wall of the skull over and over again. This effect can cause bruising, bleeding and swelling of the brain. Other injuries can include broken bones, damage to the baby's eyes, spine, and neck. How Common Is Shaken Baby Syndrome? Shaken baby syndrome is more common in children younger than 2 years old, but it can affect children up to 5 years old. Most Shaken Baby Syndrome cases occur in babies who are more likely to cry in infants, about 6-8 weeks old. A fun interaction with a child such as jumping the baby on your lap or into the air does not cause injuries associated with shaken baby syndrome. Instead, these injuries often occur when someone saves the child from frustration or anger. In no case should you shake a child. Shaking a child is a serious and deliberate form of abuse. If you think your child or another child is a victim of shaken baby syndrome, call 911 right away. This is a life-threatening condition that requires urgent medical attention.

What if my baby keeps crying?

If the crying of your baby continues after making sure that there is no specific problem, try, as much as possible, to stay calm and know how he feels. You are angry, frustrated, or upset, right? Take a moment to relax. Some tips to calm you down: If you feel out of control, stop! Put the baby safely in the cradle, take time and leave the baby's room until you feel comfortable.Breathe slowly and deeply.Cry.You can also take a shower.Talk to a friend, family member, neighbor or someone you trust and get support. Ask a valued person to look after your baby for a while so that you can have a longer rest.If you have felt you can harm your child, seek help: a family member, a neighbor, a local crisis line, a child protection agency or police. Check the front pages of your local directory for emergency numbers near you. It is an awesome idea to have a plan before you get angry. Keep a list of helpful numbers that can be clearly used for all caregivers.

What signs can indicate that a child is shaken?

Often there are no spots or bruises on the baby's skin. Common signs are: Unusual sleepiness or excessive fussiness.Refusal to eat, malnutrition or vomiting for no apparent reason.The child stop smiling, making eye contact or babbling.Stiff body or seizures (legs and arms repeatedly stiff or jerky)The child's body is immobile.Difficulty breathing or a change in her breathing pattern.The child's eyes are blurred, become unfocused or retracted.

Shaken Baby Syndrome Symptoms

Symptoms of Shaken Baby syndrome include: Difficulty staying awake.Body tremorsShortness of breathPoor eating habitvomitingcolorless skinepileptic seizurescomaparalysis If symptoms of shaken baby syndrome occur, call 911 or take your child to the closest emergency room. Such injuries are life threatening and can cause permanent brain damage.

Shaken Baby Syndrome Causes

Shaken baby syndrome occurs when someone angrily shakes a baby or toddler. People can shake a baby with frustration or anger because usually the baby doesn't stop crying. Although shaking will eventually prevent the baby from crying, often because the shaking has harmed their brain. Children's neck muscles are weak and they often have trouble supporting their heads. When a child is shaken violently, his head moves uncontrollably. Violent movement, repeatedly throws the child's brain into the skull, causing bruising, swelling and bleeding.

How is shaken baby syndrome diagnosed?

To make a diagnosis, the doctor usually looks for three conditions that indicate shaken baby syndrome. These are: Encephalopathy or swelling of the brain.Subdural bleeding or brain bleeding.Bleeding in a part of the eye called retinal or Retina hemorrhage. The doctor will order a series of tests to determine signs of brain damage and confirm the diagnosis. These tests may include: MRI image using powerful magnets and radio waves to create detailed images of the brainCT scan that produces clear sectional images of the brainSkeleton radiograph (skeletal X-ray) showing the fractures of the spine, ribs and skull.Ophthalmic Exam (Eye examination) that checks for eye damage and bleeding in the eyes. Before confirming the shaken baby syndrome, the doctor will order a blood test to rule out other possible causes. This is because some shaken baby syndrome symptoms are very similar to those of other diseases. These include bleeding disorders and some genetic disorders such as osteogenesis imperfecta. The blood test will determine if another condition is causing the child's symptoms.

Shaken Baby Syndrome Treatment

Call 911 immediately if you notice your child has a shaken baby syndrome. Some children stop breathing after shaken. In this case, CPR can keep the child to breathe until the personal doctor arrives. The American Red Cross recommends the following steps to perform CPR: Carefully make the baby lie on her back. If you suspect a spinal injury, it is best for two people to move the baby slowly so that the head and neck are not twisted.Set your position. If your baby is below 1-year old, put two fingers on the center of the breastbone (one finger if your baby is over 1-year-old), put your other hand on the forehead of the baby so the head is tilted back a little. If spinal injury is suspected, pull the jaw forward instead of tilting the head, and prevent the mouth from closing.Perform chest compressions. Press the sternum and push it into the center of the chest. Perform 30 chest compression counts while counting loud. Compressions should be solid and fast.Give rescue breath. After the compression, check if your baby can breathe. If there are no signs of breathing, cover the baby's mouth and nose well with your mouth. Make sure the airways are open and breathe twice. Make sure each breath lasts around 1 second to make the chest rise.Continue CPR. Continue the cycle of 30 compressions and 2 rescue breaths until help arrives. Pay attention to breathing. In some cases, the child may vomit after shaking. Turn the baby to one side slowly to prevent choking. Be sure to roll the whole body at the same time. In the event of a spine injury, this rolling method reduces the risk of further damage to the spine. It is important not to raise the baby or give the baby food or water. Shaken baby syndrome has no medication for now. Surgery may be needed, in severe cases, to treat the brain bleeding. And this may include shunt placement or a thin tube, to relieve pressure and drain excess blood or fluid. Blood in the eyes may alao be removed by performing eye surgery.

Shaken Baby Syndrome Children’s Outlook

Irreversible damage to the brain from shaken baby syndrome can happen within seconds. Complications found in many children, include: permanent loss of vision (partially or completely)Hearing stiffnessSeizure disordersDevelopmental delaysMentally retardedCerebral palsy, a disorder that affects muscle coordination and language.

Shaken Baby Syndrome Prevention

The shaken baby syndrome can be prevented. You can avoid harming your baby’s brain by not angrily shaking them, no matter what. It is easy to be frustrated and boiled with rage when you can't easily get your baby to stop crying or put them to sleep. However, you should accept that crying is a normal behavior in children, and shaking her is never the right answer. It is important to find a way to subdue the stress if the baby is crying for a long time. If you think you have lost control, it may be helpful to seek help from a family member or friend. There are also many hospital programs that show you how to react when babies cry and how to deal with parental stress. These programs can also help you identify and prevent injuries associated with shaken baby Syndrome. Make sure your family members and health professionals are aware of the dangers of shaken baby syndrome. If you notice that a child has been abused by minors, do not ignore the problem. Call your local police or Child Aid Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD. Read the full article

[golddaggers]

Little Baby

Freya Mikaelson x Daughter!Reader

*requested

Imagine: being Freya’s daughter and finally reuniting with her again.

Warnings: none, just pure fluff. perhaps a few bad words. but hey, we live for them. 😂

Word Count: 971

Being a Mikaelson witch, I was never really given the chance to think about having a family to call my own. And I mean an ordinary one.  Kids, lover. All of that simply wasn’t for me. I was made for war. To fight for those I loved. My siblings above anyone else. Always and forever.

And, despite my love towards them remaining intact, things within our lives had changed considerably throughout the years. We have through thick and thin too many times.

I watched both Finn and Kol die, come back, then succumb again… Rebekah become human, switching​ from body to body until she came back to her original one… Klaus embracing fatherhood… Elijah finding a woman who loved him just as much he loved her… Nevertheless, nothing of that changed me more than the news I was pregnant. With an actual human being. Conceived by a drunken night and a werewolf friend. It was messed up, sure, but I had never felt more fulfilled.

“Are you ready?” I heard Klaus whisper, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, gazing at me with darkened eyes. “To see Y/N again?”

“I don’t know.” Sighing, I looked away, trying to set my mind on the fact that, after five long years, I was going to be finally holding my little baby on my arms again. The realisation hit me like a rough punch. No, I was not ready. “What about you?”

“I dreamt about Hope each night I spent imprisoned. Wondering if she missed me like I have missed her. I’m scared, of course, but I can’t help to be excited as well. I love her, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tugging at the hem of my shirt, I thought about the damage my abrupt leaving had caused on her life. I knew Hayley took care of her like my kid was her own child, own flesh and blood, but losing her entire family at sure as hell wasn’t easy. Fuck, I just hoped Y/N wouldn’t hate me. “Want to get inside now?”

“We probably should.”

My brother chuckled, hopping off of the vehicle, going straight to the beautiful white house, and leaving me alone for a bit. He was aware I needed a time to prepare myself. I was completely scare of what so many years would do to the relationship I had with my daughter. It sounded silly, but my hands were shaky. My breath uneven. I looked like an idiot.

Exhaling, I opened the door, slamming it shut as I trudged to the dreadful place. It wasn’t so late in the evening, so Y/N was probably still awake. I could still remember her Y/H/C locks from when she was an infant. The way her nose crinkled whenever she laughed. Or how she would go to my room crying because she was scared of the thunders. It was all stashed within my brain. Carved. Unforgettable.

“Freya?” Hayley called, snapping my out of my trance and making me realise I was froze on the porch, my eyes locked on the cosy living room where my whole family gathered. “Y/N is her room, why don’t you go upstairs to see her? She is really looking forward to see her mother again!”

“She is?”

“Of course!” The brown haired woman friendly patted my shoulder, pushing me through the minor crowd and leading me up the stairs, not stopping until both of us were in front of a blue door, butterfly sticks glued all over it. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Stop that.” Marshall gave me a reproving look, crossing her arms on her chest. “In all those years… Every single day Y/N asked me to tell stories about her bad ass mother. The type of witch she so desperately wants to be.”

“Y/N doesn’t hate me for leaving her?”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know that. She knows it too. And upon learning about your sacrifice… It only made her more proud of you. So drop the act, get inside and give her a proper hug.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding and knocking quietly on the wood twice. Within two seconds, a high pitched voice answered a polite “get in”, which pushed me into opening the door, finding a beautiful​ girl splayed on a twin sized bed, flickering the pages of an old book. A goofy smile grew wide on my face. She looked so damn peaceful, so nice. So everything I had dreamt about!

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” Her glance perked up from what she was reading and met up with me, shock flooding her traits. She was only a little girl when I was forced into the slumber, but I understood she could remember me well. “Oh, damn. Mum? Is that you? For real?”  

“For real, baby.” I muttered, feeling my eyes well up with tears, them streaking down my cheeks in no time when she wounded her little arms around my waist, squeezing me tightly. “I’m here for you. Always and forever.”

“I can’t believe you’re here! I have so much to ask. So much to know.”

“I’ll answer all your questions. Anything.”

Intertwining our fingers together, Y/N started to show me her writings. The spells she had learnt and how her magic had been blossoming ever since she turned ten. Told me about Hope sometimes being awfully annoying, but that she loved her little cousin no matter what, because aunt Hayley told her that it is what a Mikaelson does.

Gazing amazed at my daughter, only one thing wandered in my mind: I could not be more happy to finally be back on her life. Feel the warmth of her hands on my own. It was wonderful.

All I ever dreamed about, but never knew I wanted until I got it.