Business In The Front, Party In The Back

Well, we're moving farther away from the mullet-inspired hairdo that resulted from the first haircut.  We have both Poppy's new hairstylist and the passage of time to thank for this improvement:  

We arrive for our appointment at Children's Hair Design to find Wendy Hart – children's hairstylist extraordinaire – still chatting with her last two customers.  I'm mighty encouraged when I see that these two adolescents are leaving with some lollipops and some nice hairdos.  

me: 'Hi, you must be Wendy.  I'm Paige, and this is Poppy.'

Poppy explores the spacious yet intimate salon.

Wendy: 'Yep.  What are we doin' today?'

me: 'We are just doing a bang trim.  We're still in recovery from her first haircut.'  

Wendy lures Poppy to the swivel chair with a pre-emptive lollipop.  I am impressed.

Wendy: 'I can see that.'

me: 'Right?!!  I had told the lady to just do a bang trim but she talked me into this nonsense.'

I show Wendy the after picture from 2 months ago.  

Wendy: 'Oh.  It's almost like a mullet.'

me: 'I know!  My husband was all like "business in the front, party in the back".  I didn't want this kind of party.'

Wendy: 'I can't believe they did this.  When a mom says "just the bangs", that's what you do.'

me: 'Well, I take responsibility for Poppy's Jonathan Taylor Thomas haircut debacle of 2013.  It was me who ultimately gave the go-ahead.  But we're moving forward now.'

Wendy: 'Yes, you can only move forward.'

Wendy proceeds to do a lovely little trim off the bangs; it was over so quickly that she refused to let me pay (despite my mild objection).  It suffices to say that headin' over to Children's Hair Design by Wendy Hart is likely to yield a lovely hairdo for your child.  No business or parties unless explicitly requested.

http://www.poppyadventures.com/2013/11/poppys-first-haircut.html

We Gotta Read To 'Em

Well, Pam Allyn does what she said she would do – she tells us what to read and when.  She also tells us why we should read these books and gives us some suggestions about how we should read them.  It’s like she’s helping us to cultivate our own little familial book clubs*.   


So yea, here are my big takeaways from the book:

1) Why is ‘the read-aloud’ so important?  
-It’s the most effective way to inspire your kid to establish the lifelong habit of reading early and often (plus reading aloud is nurturing and shows that you care).  


2) How should we, logistically, go about all this reading?  Where should we read?
-One of my biggest takeaways is that I should keep baskets of books everywhere: in the kitchen, on the dining table, next to Poppy’s bathtub, next to my bed, etc..  You can categorize these baskets by author, by genre, by language, by interest, etc..  Pam’s main point on this front: books belong everywhere because lifelong readers read everywhere.

-Pam suggests that we not rush the read-aloud.  Let's take some time here, make ourselves comfortable, and savor the read-aloud.  Having said that, if you've had a long day and you’re tired, it’s totally okay to consolidate bath time and read-aloud time.  I’ve already ordered some of Pam's suggested bath time reads, including  Do Pirates Take Baths? (when I read her description of this book as a ‘bouncy jaunt through the daily activities of pirates’, I was like 'Sold!').
   

3) What should we read and when?
-Reading from a diverse variety of genres is good for everyone involved; Pam describes genres as ‘containers for thinking’.

-I enjoyed her discussion of the kinds of books we should read with 2-3 year olds.  This is the time to integrate ‘interest development’ books and to ‘be on the lookout this early for your child’s passions and interests.  They are there, and can be nurtured through your connections with your child through literature.’  


Last night, when Poppy's twitchiness was confined to the lobster**, Matt and I read Madeline to her (actually, I was the only one doing any reading).  Pam Allyn considers this to be a 'landmark book'.  She mentions Madeline  again later in her list of kids books that address the theme of 'Being Yourself'.

'something is not right!' -miss clavell

So basically, if we read these stories to our kids, we will arm them with ideas, values, and perspective – they will never be alone, and neither will we.





*Oh man, book clubs.  I’ve never done the book club thing, but I’ve always sort of wanted to.  Whenever I sign up for one I just end up canceling (ah...the canceling of plans; now there's a pastime that never ceases to provide instant gratification). 

**see  http://www.poppyadventures.com/2013/03/plugging-in-pop-tart.html 


https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1356759.Pam_Allyn

Drunken Sailor Phase

Going places with Poppy is generally a bumpy proposition.  I don't know exactly why it's a drunken sailor phase, but the label does seem to suit Poppy's current state of mobility: wobbly, unpredictable, easily distracted.  For example, we'll be walking down the hall on our way from the apartment to the elevator, and Poppy will plop down on the floor and poise herself for a nap – her body language making her intentions clear:  'Mommy, I've changed my mind about this.  Let's rest a bit.'   

Then she takes off one shoe (the right one) even though I asked her not to.  

Poppy's First Haircut

I wanted to get little Poppy O. some bangs in order to avoid the frequent and unsavory experience of her hair ending up in food and in her nose.  The thing is though, now Poppy looks like Jonathan Taylor Thomas.  Okay, maybe not that bad – but she certainly looks like she's headed for the softball field.  

'this cape with sea creatures on it does nothing for my figure.'

'i'm not gonna wear the cape anymore'

JTT

'how's my hair?'

Poppy's hairstylist is Ms. Ginger of 'Miss Ginger's Kids Cutz'.  After Poppy's haircut, Ms. Ginger put Poppy's old hair in an envelope and handed it to me.  I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with it.  Am I supposed to save it just in case I need to put a spell on her when she's an angsty teenager?


www.gingerkidscutz.com

If She Doesn't Stop Doing It Soon...It'll Be Too Late

There are two options: either Poppy quits doing X thing right this instant...or she'll be doing X thing until she goes to college.  And there isn't much time...  

I've heard this 'do you want her to still be doing X when she goes to college?' racket about a variety of babies' humane habits.  Let me furnish you with a recent example:

me:  'Does it really matter that Poppy is still drinking her milk out of a bottle?'

Matt:  'Well, she can't still be drinking from a bottle when she goes off to college!'  

me:  'These are the options?'


It wouldn't be that big of a deal if she did drink liquids from a bottle in college.  Why not?  Maybe that could be her thing, a statement of individuality.  

–––>  

Our Poppy Voice

Poppy turned 1 last week and, to be honest, she can't really say anything yet.  We try to convince ourselves that some of her mumbling translates to 'yes', 'yea', 'all done' and 'dada'.  And since I am marginally convinced that she's saying 'yea' sometimes, I'll give her that one.  It's less clear whether or not she's purposefully saying 'dada' as opposed to merely repeating the sound that arrives when one puts together the letters d and a.  She is constantly going 'da.....dada...dadadada..dadada...da' – so, admittedly, it's a bit of a leap to claim that Poppy is addressing her father when she creates this sound.   

Nope, Poppy can't speak for herself yet, which is why Matt and I have taken to speaking for her/as her via a near constant stream of voice-over narration.  We narrate what we imagine she would say in any given situation.  Our 'Poppy Voice' sounds like a cross between Cartman and a gay uncle on helium.  If she knew what we were doing she'd be embarrassed.  But since she doesn't know what we're doing, we're able to adapt our Poppy character to suit ourselves.  

For example, Matt sees Poppy in the finance world someday...hence his Poppy character dabbles in quant strategies*.  

Poppy via Matt (I'm paraphrasing of course): 'Oh my goodness guys, I've been looking at this new Kangaroo Cocktail quant strategy and I think that it could be really interesting as long as it's optimized for curve fitting...'


(For some reason, it's less annoying when it's Poppy who is talking about innovations in quant strategy algorithms.)

Sadly, our Poppy voice-over narration has become a near perpetual practice.  It has also become a medium through which Matt and I voice our own thoughts, desires and fears – even when they have little to do with The Pop-Tart.  As such, Poppy is a baby who plays many roles– 

Poppy via me: 'Oh my goodness daddy, don't forget to assemble my little red radio flyer wagon wagon today like you said you would.'

Matt: 'Don't become like your mother Poppy.'

(For some reason, it isn't less annoying when it's Poppy who is nagging.)

I'm not sure if Matt is doing this for points or if it's what he really thinks Poppy thinks, but Matt's Poppy is often very complimentary of me.  She says things like:

I wonder what the real Poppy is going to say-

*As Poppy would say, 'Quantitative investment strategies are proprietary algorithmic models that are typically run by highly educated teams who use them to increase their ability to beat the market.'  

The Pop-Tart Has A Cold, But Everything Will Be Okay

i should really buy one of these artery thermometers-

The Pop-Tart has a cold.  It was scary at first.  Yesterday (Saturday) morning, when she was coughing a lot and looking uncharacteristically bummed out, I decided to take her temperature again.  It was 96.something, but I'm never sure that I'm taking her temperature correctly.   The nurses went the armpit route when Poppy was in the NICU.  I saw these qualified ladies do the taking of the temperature many, many times.  They even let me do it a few times in an attempt to make me feel included and less helpless.  As it turns out, I could have had more faith in my temperature taking abilities on Saturday.

At 7:45am, I call Poppy's pediatrician's office.  It's called The Pediatric Associates of Dallas – these people are organized, they have a fancy website, and they have a whole heap of Pediatricians (some of whom come in on Saturdays).

ring ring, ring ring

a chipper nurse:  'Good Morning, Pediatric Associates of Dallas.'

me:  'Hello.  Um, my baby is sick.'

the chipper nurse:  'Alright.  Dr. Hubbard has an opening at 9:45 this morning.  What's your child's name?'

me:  'Perfect.  My daughter is already a patient with you guys.  Her name is Poppy Darrah.  Poppy, P-O-P-P-Y.  Darrah, D-A-R-R-A-H.'

the chipper nurse:  'Okay, see you at 9:45.'

Her little eyes are red, and the phlegm in her chest is audible.  Very audible – I can hear it doing activities in her lungs.  She looks drowsy and sick.  It's maybe 8:15am now, and she is laying on her back in my bed and dozing off.  I am watching her little chest more intently than I would a new episode of Mad Men.  For some reason, I think that she may quit breathing.  I call The Pediatric Associates of Dallas again.

ring ring, ring ring

the chipper nurse:  'Good Morning, Pediatric Associates of Dallas.'

me:  'Hi, um, I already have an appointment for 9:45, but is there anything any earlier?  You see, my baby has never been sick before and she is coughing a lot and breathing heavily...'

the chipper nurse, who has clearly heard the neurotic mommy racket before, replies with a courteous:  'The doctors don't normally get in until 9:00, or 9:30, but you can go ahead and come on in.'

me, sounding relieved:  'Great.  Thanks.'

I then herd Matt, Poppy to the car.  I drive very quickly to the pediatricians' office.  Matt is making smallish talk that I ignore because all I'm thinking is:
'Must get Poppy to doctor.  Must get Poppy to doctor.  No talk.  Doctor.'

I'm driving fast because I want answers, I want medicine, and I want them now now.

We find the office, and I sign in with the nurse at 8:55am.  I choose to park our little posse in the alternative waiting room.  You know the one I mean – the smaller waiting room reserved for contagious babies who have fevers and tropical diseases.

We've waited for about 10 minutes when I decide that it's a good idea to go loiter around the partition whilst holding Poppy.  Maybe nurses will see how sick my baby is and get the ball rolling here.  This plan doesn't seem to be working, so I switch to a more direct strategy.

me:  'Hi, could someone go ahead and take my baby's temperature?'

one of the other chipper nurses:  'Sure!  Let's go ahead and get you into a room.'

The three of us shuffle into a tiny but brightly decorated examination room that seems even smaller once my crew and my anxiety are in there.  The nurse takes Poppy's temperature and oxygen levels, both of which are normal.

We then wait in this room for about 20 minutes.  I am nervous and listening through the thin walls, trying to determine if any doctors have arrived yet.

Dr. Hubbard opens the door.  I had never met Dr. Hubbard before.  She's an attractive, energetic lady who is perhaps in her late fifties.  She is wearing leopard print flats and skinny jeans under her white lab coat.  I assume that the getup is part of this casual Saturday protocol.

Dr. Hubbard:  'Hello there!'

She swiftly begins examining Poppy while she is still in Matt's arms.  She checks out Poppy's ears, which are of course, perfect.  She then puts Poppy on the crinkly paper and puts the wooden stick in her mouth.  Poppy likes this wooden stick and is allowed to keep it.

During the time Dr. Hubbard is examining Poppy she is also talking.  Her speech is delivered with the informality you'd expect from an old college roommate – approachable and charming.  She tells us to wash our hands and Poppy's hands diligently, and that we should watch Poppy's chest because that's how we can tell if she needs to come in.  If it's going up and down in a easy, rhythmic fashion (as it was while Dr. Hubbard was giving us this information), and if she doesn't have a fever - then Poppy is fine.

me:  'So what's wrong with her?  She really is sick, she seemed sicker at home...'

Dr. Hubbard:  'She just has a cold.  Every kid has a cold right now.  I would say that it'd be weird if she didn't have a cold.  She'll probably have a cold until May.  Here, take my card.'

She hands Matt her bright orange card:  Sue Hubbard, MD.  The Kid's Doctor Extraordinaire*.


Dr. Hubbard:  'I have a website and a radio show.....'

She says some other things but I am confused at this point, so it's a bit of a blur.

me:  'So she doesn't need any medicine?'

Dr. Hubbard:  'Nope, no medicine.  Get a humidifier and wash her hands a lot.'

And then she whisks away in her leopard print flats.


It turns out that I was taking Poppy's temperature correctly – she just didn't have a fever.  So this story circles back to what I always say yet only occasionally believe, which is:  The kid will be fine.




http://kidsdr.com/
http://paddallas.com/


* I added the 'extraordinaire' part.

Dilemma

Here's a new concern that I've had lately:

How much longer will I be physically able to carry Poppy?

She weighed 16 pounds at her 4 month checkup, putting her in the 95th percentile for weight.  This didn't bother me, because she is in the 85th percentile for height.  We'll find out at her 6 month pedi visit on October 25th, but I'm guessing that she weighs 21 pounds or so now.  Or maybe even 25 pounds.  

The otherwise dependable method of putting Poppy in the Baby Bjorn sling carrier on my chest is already on its way out (it's beginning to hurt my back since she is getting so heavy).  This bums me out because the chest carrier has been an easy and quick way to carry her around while at the Whole Foods or while sitting in a restaurant.  She just hangs out in there while I'm eating brunch, and it's pleasant for everyone.  

My concern is regarding how much she will weigh before she becomes a full-time walker.  It's becoming increasingly difficult to hold her and carry her around.  The day will come when I won't be able to carry her at all.  For example, I don't think that I am strong enough to lift a 40 pound person.  Do I need to start weight lifting/strength training?  I would really rather not.

    

poppy in a communal stroller at 'mommy's day out'

notice how Poppy is the only baby who's bag gets a seat as well. 

5 Months = More Noise

Welcome back to the Poppy-O Show.  The protagonist (and sometimes the antagonist), Poppy, is 5 months old!!(?)

While we were in New York last week, Poppy learned how to roll herself over.  Once she gets herself rolled over, being face downward seems to stress her out.  Matt thinks that she's stressed because she wants to crawl but can't do it yet.  This new rolling over skill has bumped up the amount of effort required to be her caregiver.  Until last week, she'd sit still in her lavender Nap Nanny for large chunks of the day.  We'd put this Nap Nanny on the table, on the bed, etc..  Now she might sit still in the Nap Nanny for a little while but sooner or later she begins to squirm and push her legs down like she's trying to stand up.  So then I'll put her on the floor in the Baby Einstein play gym thing.  It's this colorful blanket with two bended sticks connected to it.  There are lots of toys hanging from the sticks for her to grab onto, most notably a blue octopus.  After I have placed her on the floor in the play gym it's not long until she starts grabbing the sticks to help her roll herself on over.  The thing is though that once she is rolled over on her stomach she begins to make lots of noises.  These noises are loud and annoying.  These noises are somewhere in-between cries for help and sounds of exertion (and I have trouble telling the difference).  Suffice it to say that there is a lot of noise, a lot of the time.

It's possible that some of this noise is a reaction to her teefers comin' in.  I can feel their ridges along her bottom gums.  I'm going to go get her some baby oragel gum numbing gel stuff.  Yesterday at the gym I asked the Homosexual Anesthesiologist whether or not it was okay to use some type of numbing gel on her gums:

'Oh yea, it's totally safe.  It doesn't last for very long but it may calm her down some when she's hurting.'



The thing about the rolling over skill is that she now rolls over onto her stomach while she is in her crib.  This caused me some anxiety for a day or two.  Beginning when I was pregnant I was told that you should put NOTHING in the crib, and that your baby needs to sleep on her back.  If not, she'll probably die of SIDS.  It even says 'Back Is Best' on her sleep sacks (which we call her sacks'o'sleep).  When we got back from New York on Sunday and put her in her crib for bed, she rolled over.  Sometimes she rolls over and gets kind-of lodged in the corner.  This freaked me out at first.  I kept checking on her and putting her back on her back throughout the night for a couple of nights.  Now it's clear that she wants to sleep on her stomach, and she is going to get back on her stomach, one way or another.  She'll either sleep on her stomach while I get a good night's rest, or she'll sleep on her stomach with me waking up to put her back on her back at dark:thirty all night.

'i can roll over now'

'this is my purple throne'

Tippy Tales

You'd think that, being such a well evolved species, that our babies would be a bit more self-reliant.  A horse that's  fresh out of the chute can stand up and walk around and do all sorts of impressive things.  When a baby is fresh out of the chute, well, it can't do much of anything really.

If you sit Poppy on a flat, even surface with her legs placed neatly in front of her, she'll just tip right over.  Every time...she tips over.  She's nearly 5 months old, and I'm happy to report that this persistent lack of coordination doesn't seem to bother her.  Her facial expression conveys something like:

'I'm really doing all I can here.  Let's try this again later.'

4 Month Pedi Visit

The Pop-Tart is 4 months old.  At this point we are having pediatric visits every two months.

Dr. Dreiling examined her on the crinkly paper.  He began by putting Poppy on her tum-tum to see if she can hold up her upper body.  It turns out that she is able to hold herself up.  I was nervous about this test as we are certainly negligent with the supervised tummy time sessions.  It stresses me out to see her all squirmy on the floor.  Dr. Dreiling showed me how to help her by holding her bum down to sort of anchor her body.

Poppy came in at 25.5 inches tall (or 'long' in her case since she is generally a horizontal being), which puts her in the 85th percentile.  This is good, tall is good.

She is 16 pounds and 9 ounces, which puts her in the 95th percentile for weight.  Oh boy.  Chunk'a'monk.  Dr. Dreiling said that it's fine and that she will slim down once she begins crawling and walking.  Meanwhile, I think that we'll have to get her some Baby Spanx.

'i'd never spank a baby, but I'd sure Spanx one,' -snl.  

'do you have a fat baby?'

Dr. Dreiling was impressed with the progress that Poppy's belly button has made.  It's becoming less and less herniated and soon it won't be herniated at all.

Dr. Dreiling: 'How's everything going?'

Me: 'Great.  She's great.  She's been consistently sleeping through the night since 6 weeks.'

Dr. Dreiling: 'Wow.  I wouldn't tell a whole lot of people that.  I get some babies in here that are 10 months old and still not sleeping through the night.'


Having recently experienced a victorious and peaceful first plane ride with Poppy, I was eager to tell Dr. Dreiling.

Dr. Dreiling: 'Flying with infants is easy.  In planes, you are effectively flying at 8,000 feet when the equilized air pressure is taken into account.  This makes babies feel drowsy.  Flying with toddlers is difficult; they aren't able to pay attention to a full movie yet.  So they want to run and play in the aisle.  It's for that reason that I say if you don't have to fly with a toddler, then don't.'

It seems that whenever I have a little success story about Poppy's relatively docile comportment, people proceed to tell me about how it won't last for long.  A big bucket of misery is lurking just around the corner.  Coincidently, it was these same people who told me how difficult it was to have an infant: I won't get any sleep for months and months, it will be really taxing on my marriage, I will lose all interest in things like going to the gym and reading the New York Times which will be convenient since I will never have time to read it anyway.  It will take a full 9 months to lose the baby weight (I read that in Vicki Iovine's The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy).  When I was pregnant, I began to get scared that 'when the baby comes', it will be all over.  Youth, hobbies, travel...nope.  All gone.

I know that we are lucky to have a baby who can focus on things and is generally content to do so.  I also know that I am very lucky to have the option to take care of Poppy O. instead of having to work.  Having said that, Poppy lays quietly in bed next to me while I'm reading The Times (I read one article aloud to her), she stares at me from her Bugaboo while I'm on the treadmill, and I'm sure that she'll do fine at Mommy's Day Out a few hours a week while I'm in class.  My point here is this: when you have a baby, it's the baby who is moving in with you.  It's okay to expect to be able to continue your own life alongside your baby's life.

Tales of Supervised Tummy Time

poppy looks a bit sad here because she just discovered that she has a double-chin

ything that eThis word 'fussy' is perhaps the most popular euphemism in American parenting vernacular.   Fussy is a lovely word to use because we aren't admitting that the baby is crying or wailing or misbehaving in any way.  Fussy could mean that the baby is making quiet, polite or similarly unoffensive noises.  It could also mean that the baby is making big noises with an impressive symphonic range.  'Fussy' is safe and fuzzy.

I get weekly emails from The Bump that include baby development tidbits based on how many weeks old Poppy is.  One of these emails recently brought up something that I dread: supervised tummy time. 

During tummy time, roll a small, soft ball in front of baby. Simply reaching and grabbing for it will help develop him hand-eye coordination.

Tummy time must be supervised for the same reasons that prohibit you from placing your baby on his stomach in the crib.  This practice encourages babies to lift their heads, strengthening their neck and back muscles that they will need for sitting and crawling. 

Unfortunately, neither Poppy nor I are fans of supervised tummy time.  Whenever we do a session of STT I lay her face-down on the carpet, watch her squirm around like a fish out of water for about 2.5 minutes (which feels very mean).  At which point she gets very fussy.  I cave and pick her up by minute 4 or 5 because her fussyness has escalated to a level that gives me lots of anxiety (which is why I avoid doing STT). 

Dr. Dreiling is constantly lobbying for supervised tummy time:

Dr. Dreiling: 'So, how's the supervised tummy time coming along?'


me, smiling and nodding: 'Uh-huh, tummy time.  Yes.  All the time.'

here is Sophie La Giraffe; a toy that poppy has shown little interest in.

http://pregnant.thebump.com/new-mom-new-dad/newborn-basics/articles/your-baby-week-13.aspx

Poppy is already fighting off the boys.  All she had to do was show
this one her belly button and he backed off straight away.  

I am concerned about Poppy's belly button.  The umbilical cord fell off pretty quickly after her birth, and that was certainly fine and according to plan.  But now her belly button is this strange convex mass that looks like a tiny mesa emerging from her stomach.  When I touch it, it feels like there's something in there.

Dr. Dreiling said that it is an 'Umbilical Hernia'.  Freaky.

Unfortunately, Poppy was crying very loudly when he was talking about it so I didn't quite catch the details....but I think that he said that it would go away eventually.  Luckily I am the proud owner of an 892 page book entitled The Complete and Authoritative Guide: Caring For Your Baby and Young Child.  Brought to you by the American Academy of Pediatrics.  They present the following prognosis for the Umbilical Hernia: '...-a small hole in the muscular part of the abdominal wall that allows tissue to bulge out when there's pressure inside the abdomen.  This is not a serious condition, and it usually heals by itself in the first 12 to 18 months.  In the unlikely event that it doesn't heal, the hole may need to be surgically closed.'

When people see it they immediately proclaim that she will be/is and outie.  I certainly hope not.

the questionable belly button

The 2 Month Checkup

Anthropologie sells a few French versions of  classic Dr.Seuss books

I was inclined to ask Dr. Dreiling when I should really be reading to Poppy, like reading to her for real.  We have of course been reading her some of the short classics, Goodnight Moon and so-forth.  (Well, in reality I think that it has only been read to her two times).  But my question to Dr. Dreiling was:

'When should we really begin to read to her?  When will her cognitive skills be such that a 25 minute reading session won't be solely for my pleasure.'

It's not that I don't want to read to her, I do.  It's just that, you see, I'm an American who needs clear set goals with at least some hope of impending results.  I'm not expecting her to be able to ask me questions about the interpreted message in The Giving Tree,  I just want to know that my effort might be helping to move her toward the goal of speaking, and also toward the goal of her getting into an Ivy league University.

Dr. Dreiling responded as exactly as one might have predicted.  'Any time she hears the English language, she stands to benefit from it.'

'How much did you read to your children when they were 2 months old?'  It was obvious that this probing was slightly annoying to Dr. Dreiling, but it's always telling to hear what the pediatricians put into practice with their kiddos.

'I read to them at night, played Radiohead to them, and I didn't let them watch TV.'

There you go.  Now Matt reads her the notes of financial statements and Bloomberg articles.