Category Archives: My Big Jesus

faith, holidays, mommyhood, music, My Big Jesus

Getting the Picture Perfect

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Yesterday, I posted a picture (a collage, actually) on Instagram (@OnlyHsuman). It wasn’t your typical Easter post. There were no eggs or baskets, and the children weren’t lined up oldest to youngest on the church’s front steps. In fact, they weren’t even all smiling. Sundays for us aren’t a beautifully relaxing experience. Sometimes, I’d even call them stressful.  

For those of y’all that don’t know me that well, I’m a worship leader. That means I choose the music, sing the songs, and play a big part in executing the church service on Sunday mornings. I won’t say that I do those things by myself, or that I don’t have amazing people helping me and working with me. I do! But there’s a lot on my plate most Sundays.

In addition, I have three children under four years old, and a husband that’s also a musician. He plays with me lots of Sunday mornings, meaning our family of five is out the door and in the church by 8:45am. Some Sundays, he hasn’t gotten home until 2:00 or 3:00am, because he also plays many Saturday evenings/nights at other venues. I’m certainly not complaining – it is his passion and it helps pay our bills – but it doesn’t exactly make our mornings run more smoothly. But back to my Instagram post…

The collage above is comprised of each of my children, and my one attempt at getting them all in the same photo. (I know, you can’t even that tell my daughter is underneath my older son.) I had been up since 4:45am, because my first service had been a joyful celebration of a sunrise service at a sister church in our town. I yawned my way through the 6:00am rehearsal, and prayed that my voice would be warmed up by the time the service began at 7:00am. Our worship pastor had, earlier in the week, referred to this service as a “spiritual cup of coffee”, and indeed it was. It woke my brain, my voice and my spirit to the incredible elation that is Easter morning.

Upon finishing the earliest service, I drove back to my home church (by way of my favorite coffee spot, of course) to begin rehearsing and executing two more perfectly lovely worship services, where the Spirit moved, hearts were changed, love was experienced and joy abounded. Family, friends, acquaintances and strangers gathered together to hear the good news of a tomb found empty. My children played, sang and shared with their friends, and I hugged necks, shook hands, smiled till my cheeks hurt, and sang until I had no more voice. I couldn’t ask for a better church home and church family.

Just like most other Sundays, I got home to my family (who had left halfway through the second service to save everyone else from their meltdowns) who was nibbling on lunch and preparing for naps. Their Sunday best was wrinkled (and drooled upon, in the case of my youngest) and they were really exhausted. They had no interest in posing for a picture together (with our without me) or even looking at me as a waved my camera around, knowing I’d already missed their best moods of the day.

But instead of being frustrated because I’d not gotten an “official Easter Day picture”, I decided to let it rest. To let them rest. And to rest myself. Although Sunday is our day of early rising, quick breakfast, rushed departures and very little down time, Easter included, it’s my favorite morning of the week. I’m convinced I have the best job ever, at the best church ever, with the best bosses ever (hey, pastors!) and the best people surrounding me. On other days, I might struggle to arrive at preschool on time, and still be wearing half my pajamas while I’m working from home, figuring out dinner and wishing for bedtime. But on Sundays, if I do nothing else, I have donned my Sunday best, set my heart on the Creator, and let Him take care of the rest. The details might get lost, but the praises are sung. The Gospel is shared. Friends are encouraged. Lives are touched. Jesus’ death and resurrection have been celebrated, and his sacrifice is not wasted. He inhabits the praises of His people (Psalm 22:3) and we are forever changed by His glory. Motherhood for me is a song of praise in itself, and I am grateful to share my worship leader life with my children, even if it makes for a messy Sunday. Because this Sunday, like every Sunday, He is risen. He is risen, indeed! 

 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, my journey as a mother, pregnancy, women

A Letter to Myself Before I Became a Mother

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Dear innocent, young girl,

I want to write you, even though I know you’ll never see it. But maybe it will make us both feel better, and let us share a little of ourselves with each other. Oh, if you only knew what’s coming. I could tell you so many things, but you wouldn’t even want to hear them right now. It’s difficult to understand the lifestyle, the struggles, all of the feels that you will experience later. You might even have a chuckle or two (or hearty laugh, actually) at some of the things coming for you.

But in lieu of us having a little laugh at my (our) expense, I thought I’d give a piece or two of advice. You know, a friendly few suggestions to maybe try out before you get to where I am now: wading through a pile of children on my way to the bathroom in the morning, hearing shouts floating up the stairs before I’ve even heard my alarm (by the way, my alarm is a crying baby). Here are my three big pieces of advice:

1. Sleep late. I know you do already, or I wouldn’t know how much you’d miss it. But do it more often, as often as possible. And you know what else? Go to bed early. I know you’re a night owl and you love staying awake in the wee hours, but just try it out once or twice. You might find that you like it!

2. Travel. You don’t have any idea how cheap and easy it is to go places right now. It will be again, but not for a while. Get out there into the world beyond your town. Visit friends that live far away, go to different time zones while your body can spring back easily, get on an airplane without any tag-alongs (and I don’t mean Girl Scout cookies), eat fancy food, visit museums and see shows. You’ll find that each of these things is either more expensive, more difficult, or altogether impossible, at least for a little while. Travel enough now to save up some memories until your children are older and you’re not using your paycheck on diapers.

3. Sow seeds. This seems broad, but it can be specifically applied to three areas: your family, your friends, and your career. You will be busy when you’ve got little ones. And not any sort of busy that you’ve ever experienced. You won’t have much time to build new relationships, so sow good seeds into the family and friends you’ve got now. You want them to stick around during that time when you’re largely an unshowered, frazzled mess, alive solely because of coffee. They’ll be forgiving (and even helpful!) because you’ve spent years loving them well when you had the time and energy for it. Your career will thank you as well. Work hard and long while you don’t have those little ones who need you at home. You’ll build a base of trust and integrity, and likely receive grace later when you have a sick babe or preschool play to attend.

The last thing I’ll say, free and childless one, is when you do get ready for children, and you are expecting one of your own, don’t brush off what those mothers you meet will tell you. New mothers, old mothers, working mothers, stay-at-home mothers will all impart wisdom to you in their own way. Sometimes, you won’t know why they need to tell you those ridiculous things, or scare you with their labor stories, or be the hundredth woman to tell you, “Oh, just wait!” They’re all right; what they say will be true at some point during your mothering experience. You will be tired, you will get fed up, and you will feel the craziest, strongest, most permanently bonding love you’ve ever felt about anything. Open your heart to it, because it’s the best thing you’ll ever feel.

mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails, random thoughts

Questions You Ask As the Parent of Small Children

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

  When I was a kid (and even now) it seemed to me my mom knew everything. If I was sick, she knew exactly what I needed to feel better. If I had lost something, she knew where it was. Even when I was a teen, she knew the fastest way to get anywhere and the best place to buy anything. Now that I’m the mom, I’m constantly confronted with questions that I’m asking my mom, my other mom friends, or even Google. (“Thank goodness for Google!” said all the millennial parents.) Here are just a few of the questions I feel like I’m constantly wondering:

Why won’t she eat banana anymore?

How much Tylenol do you give to a one year old?

What color poop should the baby have?

What day is it?

Will my kid ever get all his teeth?

Will I ever sleep again?

Where is the other sippy cup?

When will my kid just put his own clothes on?

How do I get up this many times in a night, and not die?

When did I last shower?

What does a concussion look like in a toddler?

How do I get that stain out?

Do I really have to wash my coffee mug every day?

How can it possibly still be two hours until bedtime?

Weren’t we just at the doctor’s office?

Does the baby have any clean pajamas?

Why does my daughter outgrow her clothes so quickly?

What’s the liquid on the floor?

Why is formula so expensive?

Is potty training this hard for everyone?

Do the grocery store people know me by name?

When will my kids be able to buckle themselves into the car?

What would I be doing right now if I didn’t have all these kids?

How fast do toddlers run?

How do we go through diapers so quickly?

Where’d that come from?

How am I out of clean underwear again already?

What sound does a zebra make? (Okay, I didn’t wonder that one, but I did have to Google it for my daughter.)

If you’ve ever asked Google or your own mom any of these things, then we could be friends. Just be careful when deciding if it’s poop or chocolate.

holidays, home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, random thoughts

What a Bad Idea!

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus! 

 We can all sense it… Spring is coming. Here in NC, the weather is warmer, and flowers are beginning to bloom. All over, the sun is showing itself earlier in the morning and later in the evening. Children are losing their cool indoors and begging to go out and catch the rays of sun for which they’ve been longing. But there’s just one, tiny, little, baby hiccup about the coming of spring…

Daylight Savings Time. 

Whoever came up with this idea clearly didn’t have a toddler. I used to appreciate a good “fall back” in November. But now that I’m a parent, we all know that falling back just isn’t going to happen. And springing forward? That just sounds like every morning of my life. 

Let me just walk you through what this looks like for us…

Our first year as parents, everyone said, “Oh, it’s not so bad if you ease their bedtime up by 10 minutes the week before. Then they’re pretty much on schedule.” I don’t know if this has truly worked for people, but my daughter, who was almost one at the time, basically laughed in my face. Every year after that, we just sorta started bedtime earlier the night before and hoped for the best. (Side note: It didn’t really work.)

Recently we’ve had some trouble getting our kids to sleep if it’s light, regardless of the time (i.e. nap time or bedtime). We’ve gotten sound machines to drown out daytime noises. We’ve put up black-out shades in their rooms. We’ve streamlined routines, given baths, loveys, snuggles and stories, and come to one conclusion: those kids are gonna sleep when they’re tired. Enter my next task…

Wear. Those. Crazy. Kids. Out. This is tough. On days we don’t have school, it means parks and the children’s museum. It means play dates and picnic lunches. It means that my exhaustion counts for nothing, and I have to muster up the energy to play hard, and crash hard when it’s done. Naps must be taken, because over-tiredness leads to poor nights’ sleep. If I want them to go to bed early, we play extra hard. If I want them to take good naps, I pay attention to their “sleepy” cues, and have a bed available at that moment, instead of still being at the park when the meltdown hits. 

Bottom line? Daylight Savings Time sucks. People with young children should just move to Arizona and be done with it. No one is saving anything, but everyone is losing their sanity. 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, women

The Boy I Loved. 

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!  
Not that long ago, I was a silly, young girl, head over heels for a boy I had just met. Not long ago, that boy was a breath of fresh air to a girl who’d sworn off dating for a while. Not long after that, the boy and girl decided they’d get married. And buy a house. And have kids. And never sleep again. 

Really, 8 1/2 years -since we met- isn’t long in the grand scheme of things. But it feels like an eternity sometimes, when I think of what’s happened since then. When I think of places we’ve traveled, jobs we’ve had, people we’ve grown closer to or drifted apart from, it feels like a lifetime already lived. There’s so much water under that bridge we’ll have to raise it if anything else happens. 

But every now and then, there are glimpses of the silly, young girl and the boy who was a breath of fresh air. For instance, last week, Hubby and I had a lovely date night planned, going to a nice restaurant in the neighboring city where Hubby attended college before seeing a concert. Long (frustrating) story short, dinner at the nice restaurant didn’t work out, and we were a little too pressed for time to try making new plans. We ended up at a pizza and beer joint where we ordered dinner by the slice at a counter, and ate in a dirty booth. Not that I had anything against pizza and beer (I love it! Promise!), it just wasn’t what we’d had in mind. We were dressed up and ready for a fancy meal. But you know what? We had a great time. We’d gone to that pizza joint a hundred times while we were dating, with and without friends, and it was a fun little throwback to our younger, freer selves.

You know what else? After a couple of hours of music and dancing, before we headed back home to responsibilities and a babysitter to pay, we went to the location of our first “hang out.” (I’m hesitant to even call it a date.) We ended up right there in another dirty booth, eating gargantuans at the Jimmy John’s on the edge of his college campus. We giggled and flirted and touched our feet under the table with butterflies in our tummies, remembering who we had been 8 1/2 years ago. We reminisced about those old times, and talked about how we love where we are right now, even when it’s hard. 

I looked right across the table and into the eyes of the boy I loved. And I was thrilled to see that my husband looked just like him. 

home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, siblings

When My Family of Five Leaves the House (It Takes 60 Simple Steps)

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Getting ready to go anywhere is a big job for my family. With three kids under four, including an infant, there is a long list of things we need to do before we go, and things we need to bring with us – no matter where we’re going. This is a little glimpse into the process of getting the family ready to go somewhere. Maybe you can relate! 

 1. Announce that it’s time to get ready to go. 

2. Ask threenager to get her clothes on. 

3. Snatch toddler up from running away, and take him to get his clothes on. 

4. As I’m walking away, ask Hubby to change baby’s diaper. 

5. Remind threenager to get dressed. 

6. Get toddler into clean diaper and clothes, amid shouts of protest and attempts to jump off the changing table. 

7. Suggest to threenager that she should dress appropriately for the weather (aka it’s cold, so no, she may not wear that sundress and sandals).

8. Ask threenager to stop wailing and please put on socks and shoes. 

9. Catch an escaping toddler, and cram his pudgy feet into socks and shoes. 

10. Succumb to toddlers request for boots instead. 

11. Let him put his boots on by himself. 

12. Calm him down when he gets frustrated at not being able to do it himself. 

13. Help him get his boots on. 

14. Ask threenager to please wear a jacket. 

15. Check to see if Hubby changed the baby’s diaper. 

16. Usher threenager and toddler of the door. 

17. Put threenager into car seat, because it’s better to have her locked in somewhere. 

18. Retrieve toddler from neighbor’s yard. 

19. Put toddler into car. 

20. Retrieve threenager’s doll she dropped in the floorboard. 

21. Retrieve toddler from driver’s seat. (He is fast.)

22. Put toddler into car seat, finally securing that he isn’t running away. 

23. Close the car door. 

24. Breathe. 

25. Listen for screaming inside the car. 

26. No screaming? Go inside and check on the status of Hubby and baby. 

27. Change baby from his brother’s pants to his own that fit him. 

28. Put baby into car seat. 

29. Take car-approved snacks to toddler and threenager, who are now screaming. 

30. Go back inside and fill sippy cups.

31. Make a bottle for the baby. 

32. Put in your own shoes. 

33. Grab your tube of mascara for when you’re stopped at a red light. 

34. Locate a bag (any bag) to put diapers, cups, and a bottle in. 

35. Go outside. 

36. Remember the wipes. 

37. Go inside to grab wipes.  

38. See your coffee cup, and grab it. 

39. Go outside. 

40. Remember you were grabbing wipes, not coffee. 

41. Go inside to grab wipes. 

42. See your baby’s favorite chew toy, and grab it. 

43. Put your hand on the doorknob, and remember the wipes. 

44. Grab wipes. 

45. Go outside. 

46. Realize that you haven’t seen Hubby in a while.

47. Go back inside to find Hubby in the bathroom. 

48. Go outside to wait on Hubby. 

49. Threenager has finished her snack and wants more. 

50. Since Hubby isn’t outside yet, go get more snack. 

51. See your purse by the door, and thank the Lord you had to go back to get it.

52. Grab the purse and the snack, and go back outside. 

53. Give the threenager more snack. 

54. Give the toddler more snack, because he is now angry that the threenager got more snack and he didn’t. 

55. See Hubby walk out the door. 

56. Praise Jesus that everyone is outside the house. 

57. Get in the car. 

58. Crank it up, and turn on some preemptive Taylor Swift. 

59. Pull out of the driveway. 

60. Hope for the best. 

So if you’re ever wondering why didn’t attend your event, or why I said we couldn’t go to a play date that was only for an hour… know you know why. I love you, but this is why. 

faith, music, My Big Jesus

Hear It Differently

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Have you ever listened to a song you’ve heard a thousand times before (you know the ones: they’re on the radio, friends hum them while they work, and your kids even sing a phrase or two here and there), but one time when you’re listening, you think, “Wow! I’ve never paid attention to those words before! Has that always been the line?”

That happened to me this past Sunday. To be more specific, it happened to me several times. You see, I’m a worship leader. And the set that was planned for my service that morning was one full of trusty favorites. Several of them I’d been singing for years, one is a newer song I’ve sung at one service or another every week since Christmas, and the set also included one song I helped write (I wrote a bit about that here). But all of a sudden, these songs were falling on fresh ears. Thankfully, it wasn’t in a “forgot all the words” sort of way, but a “never thought about it that way before” sort of way.

For example, we sang Paul Baloche’s arrangement of the hymn “How Great Thou Art”. While it’s a hymn that I grew up singing, and I know almost every word by heart, for some reason, I heard the words anew. This verse: And when I think that God His Son not sparing/sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in/ that on the cross, my burden gladly bearing/He bled and died to take away my sin. I mean, that’s crazy! God sent His very Son to take our sins. Jesus gladly bore them for us on the cross, because he knew it would save us. Who wouldn’t sing about that?

Or in Hillsong’s “Oceans”, it was this part in the bridge: Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander/and my faith will be made stronger/in the presence of my Savior. Being in the presence of my Savior will be what strengthens my faith. I could have that reminder again and again, and it would convict me every time. Oh, you of little faith, enter into His presence, and that little faith will grow.

I have this same experience reading the Bible a lot. I’ll flip through pages, and read something I’ve read a hundred times before. But every time, I read it differently. Maybe it’s that my perspective has shifted, due to life circumstances. Maybe it’s that the Lord is showing me something new about a particular passage. Maybe it immediately leads me to think of a friend who needs to hear those exact words. Whatever it is, when I allow myself to be open to hearing something new, the Lord almost always gifts me that very thing: a new light shining through an old passage. Or through the music I think I know like the back of my hand: I notice a word or phrase that will change the entire song and how it speaks to my heart.

So here’s the hard part, the part it’s easy to talk about but not as easy to do. Get rid of those pre-conceived notions. Lose the filter through which you might be tempted to see. Open your eyes, your ears, your heart. Don’t be afraid of what you might hear; it might just be the thing that changes your mind.

faith, home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

We’ve Got a Good Life

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!  

Sometimes, it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, where you’re cleaning something about 60% of the day, and preventing disaster the other 40%. It’s easy to say “no” more than you say “yes”, to forget what your hair looks like when it’s styled properly, and to pay more attention to how many bananas you have left than what your toddler is jabbering on about. But recently, I got a glimpse into our lives over the past few years a whole – the highlights – and I was more than pleased. 

Recently, Shutterfly ran a promotion through their app to order 250 free prints straight from Instagram, in the 4×4 square size. I’ve never uploaded any of my Instagram photos to my Shutterfly account, and since they were free prints, I decided to do it. (Nevermind that shipping ended up being enough to cover the cost of the prints, but I digress.) I didn’t pay much attention to which ones I chose, as long as they had people in them, preferably my kids, and weren’t all pictures of random food I’d eaten. Once I had chosen 250, I ordered them and basically forgot all about them until they arrived.

Once they got to my house, I decided I’d take down my Christmas cards (yes, I know that it’s February), displayed in the kitchen on the cabinets, and replace them with the pictures. I always have trouble taking down the cards, because the kitchen looks bare without them, so this seemed the perfect compromise. I knew I didn’t have room for 250, so I started to sift through them. I learned a few things:

  1. I have had Instagram basically since I had kids. There are pictures of all three of my beautiful babies, from the first moments of their lives.
  2. I use Instagram a lot. There are pictures of literally everything. Check ups at the doctor, first steps, weird faces, play dates, and sweet sleeping angels are all documented here in this one place.
  3. We have incredible family and friends. There were lots of pictures of my kids loving on my friends, grandparents smooching the kids and playing in the floor, and parties galore for every occasion, and n occasion at all.
  4. My kids have grown very quickly. I know this is normal, and that it will likely always be this way, but I can’t get over how a few short months ago, J’s face was mostly baby fat, D still slept 90% of the time (oh, how I miss that some days!) and EK was a mere fraction of herself in conversation and craziness. 

These photos, these sweet faces, happy times and hilarious memories, were the perfect reminder that what matter most isn’t the grind. It isn’t whether or not I forgot to replenish the yogurt supply, or if we watched the whole second season of Sofia the First in less than a week. It’s about the snuggles in the mornings, the prayers before bed, the silly somethings whispered in my ear, and the health (physical, emotional, and spiritual, even) of our children as we lead them through this life. The highlights aren’t necessarily an “accurate” representation of life as a whole, but they sure are the parts worth remembering. We’ve got a good life. 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

Motherhood Is a Battle

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus. 

As a mom, I am called to do a plethora of things. Not the least of these is to fight for my children. I fight for them to be treated fairly, given any and every opportunity, for their health, their happiness, and, if the need arises, their very lives. I am happy to fight those battles for them as long as I can. 

But sometimes, I feel like all I do is fight. I fight against the sink full of dishes or the endless loads of laundry. I fight veggies into mouths. I fight shoes onto feet. I fight urine and spit-up out of carpet and bedsheets. I fight the clock to finish dinner in time to bathe before bed. I fight for guilt-free alone time. I fight for quality time with one or two or even three, that isn’t taken up by “Stop that!” or “Don’t hit your sister!” Choose your battles, they’ve told me. Well, choosing my battles seems like a battle in itself. 

When I’ve fought battles all day, I’m weary of myself. I dislike who I’ve become after the stress of the day has worn me down. I need a break, or encouragement, or a big glass of wine. But what I try my hardest to do is focus on the One who can pull me up, out of the muck and the mire, and remind me who I am. He can drag me out of the pit – where sometimes you can find me wallowing – and restore me the my fuller self. He is the conqueror of things big and small. He has conquered death, so what battles of mine can He not win?

Jesus is a conqueror. In Him, I am also a conqueror. When I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle, He can win for me! He take take all the ugliness – the exhaustion, the anger the guilt, and the sadness in me – and weave them into a beautiful tapestry that tells the story of who I am, without being overpowered by those emotions. It can show those feelings, as well as the beauty – the joy, the love, the excitement, and the peace – that shows when He shines His light through me. He has already conquered, and will keep on conquering. I need only to be still.   

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails

How do you think it looks? 

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 This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!


The other night, while the kids were taking their bath, I decided to give J’s and EK’s hair a little trim, mostly to make sure their bangs didn’t get into their eyes. They have endearingly shaggy cuts, and so I’d never want to jeopardize that. We had had some friends lingering after our dinner together, so after bath time, we fast-forwarded the bedtime routine, so we could get back to chatting with our friends. I was VERY surprised that EK didn’t make her way back up the stairs, as is her usual custom when we have friends over. (She likes to rejoin the party.) Their bedtime was a little late, so I attributed her absence to tiredness.

Around 11:00, when everyone had gone home and Hubby and I were getting ready for bed, I felt like I should go check once more and see if they were nestled in their beds. When Hubby and I got to the hallway where the kids’ rooms are, I saw EK’s light on underneath her door. When we got inside, we immediately saw little pieces of paper and ribbon from various bows that had all been cut into tiny pieces.

(I’ll take a moment to clarify that we don’t allow scissors without supervision. I’ll also clarify that I happened to leave those bangs-trimming scissors to dry on the bathroom counter, but up against the backsplash, and out of sight.)

Finding EK on the far side of her bed, working on a ribbon on her nightgown, I asked, “What are you doing, babe?” She looked up at me, and replied, “Just cutting stuff.” At this, I started to the see hair on the floor. I took the scissors and said, “Well you know that it’s not okay for you to use scissors without me or Daddy with you. And look at all the hair you’ve cut off!”

As she started to cry (mostly from being in trouble, I think), I looked at Hubby and said quietly, “That’s a lot of hair…” Turning back to a sniffling EK, I said, “You really cut a lot of hair. How do you think it looks?” And as the dam broke and she crumbled into a hot mess, she cried, “Great!” and succumbed to the sobbing. As tears filled my eyes, I told her the most important thing I could think to tell her: “If you think you look great, then so do I.”

You see, she’s not yet four years old. She is outwardly tough, but can be fragile in many ways. She is moldable, flexible, and absorbs every single thing she sees and hears. If I had dared tell her it didn’t look good, or that she did an awful job on her hair, well, it would’ve crushed her. It likely would’ve stuck out in her mind for a long while. Instead, the focus of the scold was on scissor safety and not the outcome of a self-done haircut. After all, it’ll grow. And it looks right cute with a headband in it. She’s still my adorable EK, and her hair just has a little extra spunk.