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26.10.2011., srijeda

WHEN DO BABIES HOLD THEIR OWN BOTTLES : HOLD THEIR OWN


When Do Babies Hold Their Own Bottles : Crochet Baby Leg Warmers.



When Do Babies Hold Their Own Bottles





when do babies hold their own bottles






    bottles
  • Used in reference to heavy drinking

  • A container, typically made of glass or plastic and with a narrow neck, used for storing drinks or other liquids

  • The contents of such a container

  • (bottle) store (liquids or gases) in bottles

  • (bottle) a glass or plastic vessel used for storing drinks or other liquids; typically cylindrical without handles and with a narrow neck that can be pled or capped

  • (bottle) a vessel fitted with a flexible teat and filled with milk or formula; used as a substitute for breast feeding infants and very young children





    babies
  • (baby) pamper: treat with excessive indulgence; "grandparents often pamper the children"; "Let's not mollycoddle our students!"

  • (baby) the youngest member of a group (not necessarily young); "the baby of the family"; "the baby of the Supreme Court"

  • (baby) a very young child (birth to 1 year) who has not yet begun to walk or talk; "the baby began to cry again"; "she held the baby in her arms"; "it sounds simple, but when you have your own baby it is all so different"

  • A young or newly born animal

  • The youngest member of a family or group

  • A very young child, esp. one newly or recently born





    hold
  • A large space in the lower part of a ship or aircraft in which cargo is stowed

  • appreciation: understanding of the nature or meaning or quality or magnitude of something; "he has a good grasp of accounting practices"

  • clasp: the act of grasping; "he released his clasp on my arm"; "he has a strong grip for an old man"; "she kept a firm hold on the railing"

  • keep: keep in a certain state, position, or activity; e.g., "keep clean"; "hold in place"; "She always held herself as a lady"; "The students keep me on my toes"











when do babies hold their own bottles - The Center




The Center Cannot Hold


The Center Cannot Hold



Elyn Saks is a success by any measure: she's an endowed professor at the prestigious University of Southern California Gould School of Law. She has managed to achieve this in spite of being diagnosed as schizophrenic and given a "grave" prognosis -- and suffering the effects of her illness throughout her life.
Saks was only eight, and living an otherwise idyllic childhood in sunny 1960s Miami, when her first symptoms appeared in the form of obsessions and night terrors. But it was not until she reached Oxford University as a Marshall Scholar that her first full-blown episode, complete with voices in her head and terrifying suicidal fantasies, forced her into a psychiatric hospital.
Saks would later attend Yale Law School where one night, during her first term, she had a breakdown that left her singing on the roof of the law school library at midnight. She was taken to the emergency room, force-fed antipsychotic medication, and tied hand-and-foot to the cold metal of a hospital bed. She spent the next five months in a psychiatric ward.
So began Saks's long war with her own internal demons and the equally powerful forces of stigma. Today she is a chaired professor of law who researches and writes about the rights of the mentally ill. She is married to a wonderful man.
In The Center Cannot Hold, Elyn Saks discusses frankly and movingly the paranoia, the inability to tell imaginary fears from real ones, and the voices in her head insisting she do terrible things, as well as the many obstacles she overcame to become the woman she is today. It is destined to become a classic in the genre.

Elyn Saks is a success by any measure: she's an endowed professor at the prestigious University of Southern California Gould School of Law. She has managed to achieve this in spite of being diagnosed as schizophrenic and given a "grave" prognosis -- and suffering the effects of her illness throughout her life.
Saks was only eight, and living an otherwise idyllic childhood in sunny 1960s Miami, when her first symptoms appeared in the form of obsessions and night terrors. But it was not until she reached Oxford University as a Marshall Scholar that her first full-blown episode, complete with voices in her head and terrifying suicidal fantasies, forced her into a psychiatric hospital.
Saks would later attend Yale Law School where one night, during her first term, she had a breakdown that left her singing on the roof of the law school library at midnight. She was taken to the emergency room, force-fed antipsychotic medication, and tied hand-and-foot to the cold metal of a hospital bed. She spent the next five months in a psychiatric ward.
So began Saks's long war with her own internal demons and the equally powerful forces of stigma. Today she is a chaired professor of law who researches and writes about the rights of the mentally ill. She is married to a wonderful man.
In The Center Cannot Hold, Elyn Saks discusses frankly and movingly the paranoia, the inability to tell imaginary fears from real ones, and the voices in her head insisting she do terrible things, as well as the many obstacles she overcame to become the woman she is today. It is destined to become a classic in the genre.










85% (11)





The Story...only for the very bored...but you too can torture your friends this way! Teresa's Coronation




The Story...only for the very bored...but you too can torture your friends this way! Teresa's Coronation





For those bored; the story being read to the blindfolded birthday girl

Baby bongos
Tamborine
Xylophone
2 Maracas
Guitar
2 Recorders…
Spray bottle with salt water…

Tamborine and the rest of the instruments to be used in any Middle Eastern scene that has music…we can adlib somewhat as well. Perhaps during narrative parts the guitar can be lightly stroked.


This is a story with narration, and I will be the narrator. (Mickey)

This is an evening of remembrance; a remembrance of events gone before, lives changed and order restored. Who is Teresa? What is Teresa? Where has she come from? Where is she going to? Why is she blindfolded? Well we say:

ALL: Why not?

Narrator: Yes indeed, why not? However you have come to a time in your life that you, yes you Teresa, must rediscover your past and take hold of your future. We are your facilitators in your discovery and insomuch have taken the liberty of putting drugs in the drink that you now hold in your hands. Drink of it and face all that you are and all that you can be.

ALL: Chug, Chug, Chug, Chug….(chanting till she finishes the drink}

ALL: Discussion ensues without paying any mind to Teresa…things like…How long do you think this will take? Isn’t this dangerous? Could she die? Has anyone here done this before? ….oh well.

Narrator: Do you hear me Teresa? We are going to go back in time Teresa. Way back…
(Hold clock or watch to her ear and eerie music with the Recorders) We are going back to the time of your birth, but first we must get there. Concentrate….Concentrate more…come on Teresa you can do better than that. Tell us when you are crossing the Atlantic ocean. (see what she says, but when she says she can see it we spray her with water with salt in it)

Are you crossing the Atlantic Teresa? Lick your lips…what does it taste like? Okay great, I thought you were hovering over Lake Ontario there. You are doing good and have passed the first quest. Many have died with the spray of Lake Ontario. You are more powerful than we first imagined. Isn’t that right facilitators?

ALL: (Quick agreement, like yeah, like way powerful)

Narrator: Teresa where are you now?

ALL: (Speak Polish)
Narrator: Good Teresa, now concentrate more

ALL: English accents…

…Where are you now

Narrator: Go south Teresa…

ALL: (Speaking our crappy French…Bonjour, ect)

Narrator: It is time to leave this country now Teresa. Concentrate, concentrate on the country of your birth.

(She will say Poland...but we correct her)

(Middle eastern music starts off soft ever increasing…suddenly the music stops and bongos are hit in rapid succession) What year is it Teresa? (Make her go back until she says 1955…soon as she says it we all say…)

ALL: The chosen one is born!

Chris: (Cry out like a baby is being born)

ALL: (Middle Eastern Music, great rejoicing…old middle eastern women asking to touch the baby, hold the baby and feed the baby)

Wanda: Stop you foolish women! (Music is lowered) You will get your camel lice all over the new born babe. We have lost so many chosen ones from your middle eastern cooties. Smarten up, and listen.

The babe is in great peril.

ALL: (lamenting…Oh have mercy on this child)

Wanda: Shut uppa your bouches old hags. Our enemies are are planning to kidnap the child led by their leader Matt Ingo…a desperate sad and pathetic pig who wants to rob this child of her birthright.

Chris as Matt Ingo: Did someone mention my name?

ALL: (screaming…oh no Matt Ingo is here, music is loud…lots of commotion, music stops suddenly…total silence then ….

Diane in Aussie accent says: “Mattdingo has stolen my baby”

Narrator: Yes, Matt dingo having stolen the chosen one whisked the child to Toronto Canada where no one could find her. However when he was faced with the task of killing the child he could not bring himself to do the deed.

CHRIS AS MATT INGO: I just can’t do it!

Narrator:

Instead he found a couple living on Springhurst who would raise the child as their own for the price of two camels and a 40 ouncer of Vodka.

Narrator: Dang this will have to be continued...this Flickr doesn't hold much text does it..hmmm...thinking, thinking...continued...











I got a five week old leopard kitten on my lap for Valentine's Day, what did you get, hmmm? :)




I got a five week old leopard kitten on my lap for Valentine's Day, what did you get, hmmm? :)





It's been a long time since I posted something less "artsy" or "thoughtful" and this photo breaks up the postings most wonderfully! I had to share.

Patrick and I spent the weekend at the most amazing beach we've found yet on the Oregon Coast - Bandon. I have no photos of the beach, just sand in my shoes. We didn't really go to shoot this weekend, we didn't get any spectacular sunsets, but the weather was perfect and the weekend was most excellent.

We discovered that the dogs LOVE to run on the beach and don't even get upset when they get wet and sandy. When we got home during the rain the other night, the dogs were once again afraid of puddles and getting wet.

Bandon is a place we've already vowed and planned on returning to when we can spend some serious time, despite the nearly 5 hour crappy, uninteresting drive to get there. I can warn you all though to skip the Chinese joint in nearby Coos Bay: KUM YON'S. Needless to say we picked it for its giggle-factor name. The woman who seated us who didn't speak much English was wearing a name tag that read "KUM" and I can't help but wonder who will be the first person to tell her...

But, even better than the terrible restaurant and awful drive, we had a coupon for a buy-one get-one admission to a weird little "walk through safari" in Bandon.

It was basically a bizarre petting zoo, very 1960s in flavor, with pacing animals and wood and fence enclosures. I couldn't help but think we shouldn't taunt their tigers as I looked at the chain link fence that separated us from them.

Obviously we couldn't pet the lions, tigers, chimps, and the strange monkey with gigantic, sky-blue nuts, but we got to play with capybaras, wallabies, goats, llamas, ferrets; we pet a skunk (who was bitey so we had to be careful), we cuddled the sweetest possum (who very strongly resembles my gross old cat), but the highlight was playing with, feeding, and holding a five week old leopard kitty. His name was Diesel, and he was as big as my dog Gromit and his feet were gigantic already.

He was feisty and playful and as he climbed my pants-leg, I couldn't help but think that my dear friend Tamara's Bengal cat Tigger was adventurous a cat as I'd like to own. (Checking out their 7 month old leopard, who was easily 100 pounds already, larger than most great danes, desperate to get out of its cage and eat the goats, and had feet the size of dinner plates, the five week old kitty was not going to be controllable much longer.)

Regardless of my questions of the animals' well being (damn did the fox den stink), we enjoyed our bizarre little visit to the "safari" and I can now add cuddling a leopard baby to my bizarre "been there, done that" list!









when do babies hold their own bottles







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