Making Your Own Middle

M does most of the housework. Before I graduated, he and the baby were on their own four days a week because I'd be out of the house before they woke up and back home after the baby was in bed. Ever since the baby was born, M has been in charge of bath time. Not including the few weeks when M has traveled for work and such, I have probably bathed the baby no more than 20 times.

People often ask me how it is that a Pakistani man does so much of this kind of so-called women's work and doesn't make a big fuss about it. The answer is one of my best jokes - the best thing about intercultural marriage is he has no idea that this is abnormal. Intercultural marriage means I get to say "Oh, YEAH! Fathers are ALWAYS in charge of bathtime!"

It goes both ways too. M also gets to make his own middle. In Pakistan he'd be expected to do all of the grocery shopping, home maintenance and running around town. Instead I pay water bills, get the oil changed in the cars, and arrange to have our gutters cleaned. (A student's schedule makes me the natural choice for the waiting-around-at-the-mechanic work.)

(Also, interestingly, it doesn't matter what the broader culture says about certain things, it only matters what the spouse's family says about certain things. So it doesn't matter if M readily knows that not all American dads are in charge of bathtimes, it only matters that men in MY family are in charge of bath times (false). Likewise, it doesn't matter that some women do their own grocery shopping in Pakistan, it only matter than in M's family, his father does all the grocery shopping. We all get our cultural norms from our own families. Or we fabricate them and then falsely attribute them to said families.)

Because we both chose this life - chose to make a life with someone who had an entirely different upbringing and background - I feel like we came with a little more of a blank slate. We got to forge ahead with the path that worked best for our little family.  We make our own middle ground!

Warm Milk, Or: Why My Mother In Law Is Not Allowed To Put The Baby To Sleep

When M and I decided we were ready to have children, we hoped for a due date in the window between the final exams of one semester of my studies, and the beginning of a new semester in January; thereby giving a free three weeks of adjustment time so that I hopefully wouldn't have to take any time away from school. But a word of caution, don't assume that it will take a few months before you'll actually get pregnant. Turns out you can't "front-load" trying for a baby like that. You might actually end up with a baby! Right in the middle of the semester!

So that's the story of how I ended up studying for three exams, holed up in my bedroom, while my Mother In Law took full-time care of my weeks-old baby. At my school final exams take place over three weeks, so I spent three weeks pretty much studying every minute to make up for the time lost from delivery. Ammi was wonderful, though, and single-handedly took over the baby responsibilities. The only issue we had was the bottle. 

You see, Ammi was of the opinion that babies should drink warm milk and wanted to warm up all the bottles before giving them to the baby. I had decided that we would not be heating up bottles (based on things I'd read and confirmed was a fine choice with our pediatrician.) Since he was drinking cold formula well, and because warming a bottle could lead to him forming a preference for warm milk and refusing un-warmed bottles, we were adamant that Ammi should NOT warm up his bottles.

Unfortunately we were also sending mixed messages. I was pumping and freezing milk at that time, so we were warming up frozen milk. But only to bring it closer to room temperature - not warm! I even had Ammi feel the bottle to see how it was NOT WARM. And see! He drank it ALL! He's just FINE with cold milk!

I'm telling you, M and I tried and tried to stop her from warming up bottles. But she was alone with him for so many hours during the day that she had plenty of time to give him countless warm bottles without us knowing. By the time she left - when the baby was seven weeks old - he has hooked. Try as I might to get him to drink cold formula, he refused. We spent a FULL YEAR having to warm up every bottle he drank and it only stopped when he was a year old and making the transition to cow's milk. 

I cannot count the number of times I was hindered by that. We travel A LOT. How do you warm up a bottle on an airplane? (Ask the flight attendant, who will stick the bottle in a pitcher of hot water from the coffee pot.) What about in a long car drive? What about in the middle of the night when you have to walk all the way downstairs to heat up a bottle? It gets old fast. And there was no reason for it. He was thriving without warming up bottles. M, Ammi and I all had a hearty laugh about it the first day Ammi was here.  "Ha ha ha! Remember the warm bottles! How you made our lives difficult!! So funny!" 

But that's all behind us, right? 

No. It's not. Now I'm worried about sleep. 

You see, the baby sleeps alone. In his own room. In complete and total darkness. As an illustration of how this is culturally different from how my MIL thinks babies should sleep, I will juxtapose my baby's sleeping habits with that of his cousin, my SIL's baby. My MIL has in part shaped the way my SIL parents (just as my own mother has shaped mine). My MIL thinks that my SIL's methods are preferable to mine. Let us explore:

My baby has a strict bedtime routine. He gets a bath and brushes his teeth around 7:40, followed by a book or two, a quick snuggle and rock in the rocking chair, and I lay him down in his crib by 8. It doesn't matter if he "looks sleepy" or not. He sometimes sings or talks to his doll, but he falls asleep pretty quickly. Even if he doesn't sleep right away, I don't go back in the room unless he really starts crying. He sleeps all night in there and wakes up fresh and ready for breakfast. He sleeps at least 12 hours ever night and naps at least 2.5 hours a day. (ThankGodThankGodThankGod.)

His cousin, only three months older, is put to bed by my SIL. She takes her to the bedroom and pats her back until she falls asleep. Often my SIL falls asleep too. 

It's not that were nuts, though. The baby has slept with us before. Anytime he's sick and sleeps poorly we bring him into our bed. When we travel and the hotel room is too small for a crib, he sleeps with us. Often he'll wake up in the middle of the night, though, because it's so out-of-routine for him, and think this huge bed with these big sleepy lumps in it is just a big nighttime playground just for him. He'll start jumping around and sitting on top of us. I just take him back to his room and he falls back asleep just fine. 

Kids (at least my kid) are all about routine, and this is ours. It's not that I think everybody should or even can have this kind of routine, but it works wonderfully for us and I just don't want to have to start all over at square one. My SIL seems perfectly happy to pat her daughter to sleep everyday, but that would not work well in my life. 

(Crazy side story: M was once having a discussion with his uncle about the baby's sleeping habits and mentioned that he sleeps in a crib alone. The uncle said that in Pakistan, babies are patted to sleep, or sleep on people's shoulder and then said "Well, I guess that's why American babies don't love their parents as much....")

It's a big cultural difference. I think of a crib as a safe, calming place for my son. My MIL thinks of it as a jail, and asks my son if he's scared to be all alone in the dark. I think having a strict routine means the baby has a sense of comfort and order. My MIL thinks I shouldn't put him to sleep because "he's not even sleepy yet. Look! He wants to play some more!" I think being in the dark when you sleep is totally natural (after all, it was dark before he was born and he's always slept in the dark since. What does he care?) while my MIL thinks "he must be scared! Why don't you let him sleep with me instead?" I think that the more sleep he gets, the better, in part because of reading several books about infant sleep even before he was born. I think my MIL thinks he doesn't need that much sleep.

Here is my fear - this will turn out just like the milk thing.  I am studying for a BIG exam. She will spend a lot of time alone with him. It is not at all unfathomable that she will forgo our wishes and our routine and lay him in her bed instead of his crib. She will pat him until he falls asleep, she will lay next to him and sing to him and he will get used to that. When she leaves we will be big-time screwed. 

So far I have put him down for every nap and every night. Even a week into her stay she still asks about whether he's scared in there all alone. Last night at dinner she kept telling him that he should sleep with her that night. (And I cringed. And M pretended he didn't hear.) Perhaps that's just how it will have to be.

On How I Got My Recipes

When my in-laws came to America for the first time they stayed with us for 52 days. For almost all of that we all lived in a 700 square foot, 1 bedroom apartment. Ammi and Abbu (My mother-in-law and father-in-law) slept in the bedroom while M and I slept on an air mattress in the dining "room" portion of the big living area. Every morning Ammi and Abbu would wake up earlier than we did and creep into the tiny kitchen to make themselves tea and breakfast. We would wake up some time later when Abbu just couldn't keep that quiet anymore. Ammi would do her best to "shush" him and keep his volume down, but it could only last so long. 

Of course, M still had to work during those weeks, and I spent the day alone with Ammi and Abbu. Abbu speaks English "fluently" but M likes to say that Abbu "speaks more than he listens" so communicating with him sometimes takes more than one try. Ammi doesn't speak any English and my Urdu was very limited at that time. (It's still very limited, so I guess it was barely existent back then!) But we got by though. More than once I called M at work so he could do a little phone translating! 

I made a point that I would not spend the days holed up in a room by myself, so Ammi, Abbu and I spent most of the time together. I took them shopping a lot; mostly for food or supplies for the evening's dinner, but also for lots of things for them to take back to Pakistan with them. There was a big master list of things they wanted, things we wanted them to have, and whenever we found something new they liked, we'd add it to the list (Scotch Brite sponges! Oil of Olay face wash! Flossing thingies!)

But the main passtime was cooking. I never really cooked much before I was married. I spent 10 years as a vegetarian, so I was used to having to microwave my own meal while my mother cooked dinner for the family. In that way I never learned to cook from her before I moved out. (Which was a shame because she's a fantastic cook and I'm only just now mastering some of her recipes!) M liked to say that when he met me I didn't know how to cook anything, I only knew how to HEAT things. ("Microwaving isn't cooking!" he'd say.) But I did try to cook desi food once, with some success, and I did have an interest in cooking. I'd just never had enough money for pots & pans. (or even food, much of the time!)

So I told Ammi that I would love to learn how to cook some Pakistani dishes with her. She had already begun a program I called The Great Freezer Fill of 2003. (She would cook and cook and cook and freeze things in ziplock bags and by the time they left for Pakistan, M had a freezer FULL of his mother's home cooking to last him through his last 6 months of bacherlorhood.) 

So Ammi began to teach me how to cook. Even things like dicing onions had a different meaning in Pakistani cooking. There was the fine, "omelette-wali" cut for frying onions at the beginning of a dish, the larger, full circle "salad-wala" cut for toppings, and the paste-in-the-blender kind for finer dishes when you didn't want onions floating around. It was all very new and complicated for me.

Ammi mostly taught me the basics by miming. (We REALLY couldn't communicate much in those days.) Abbu, my father in law, helped out by transcribing all of her recipes in English on paper for me while we worked in the kitchen together. He painstakingly wrote out all of the recipes Ammi could think of, sometimes complete with diagrams on how to roll out a roti or how to cut the beans. By the time they left I had all the tools that would later make me quite the Pakistani cook (if I do say so myself!) And I kept all of those recipes and still refer to the infrequently used ones. Someday I really should type the all up so they're not all lost one day!

In the middle of the page on this recipe, you can see Abbu's diagram of how to fill a ball of dough with potato paste to make Aloo ki roti - potato bread - how to roll it out, and even how to finished product should look with little dots of cilantro showing through the thin dough. I think this one if my favorite!

Highlights From This Morning

1. Not being able to figure out how to tell my mother in law, in Urdu, that she doesn't have to come all the way downstairs if she needs me for something. Elaborately pointing to the top of the stairs and yelling my own name instead.

2. Cranky baby from being whisked out of his bed the second he makes a pipsqueak. Apparently "he usually needs a little while to himself in his crib every morning" does not translate.

3. Drinking four cups of tea. Already.

4. Realizing that one of the reasons this transition is difficult for me is that I usually spend an inordinate amount of time around the house without pants. And now I can't.

5. Heading out to buy a robe. Will I suddenly become a robe kind of person now?

Eighty Freaking One

81. The A/C in my house was set to 81 today. 

The Bathroom Incident

I hope it won't seem terrible for me to go and start complaining about my mother in law's helpfulness, especially when so many of you commented on the last post about how lucky I am. I do know I am very lucky to have my MIL, and that she is very helpful. I appreciate it, I really do. But just like you'd love to have help around the house, you wouldn't want your boss or your grandfather folding your underwear, right? There are limits to helpfulness. So, as a flip side of yesterday's post, I should tell you about the Bathroom Incident of 2006

It was a few weeks before the birth of our son. Ammi, my mother-in-law, was visiting. M and I were busy with work & school, but were also trying to finish up a lot of projects around the house before the baby arrived. The call it nesting, and we were in full swing! But our list of nesting projects was not only the usual hanging of curtains, folding of tiny onesies, and putting together baby furniture. We had even fallen behind on even the most basic life maintenance tasks and M needed to clean the bathrooms!

One morning, M and I were setting out our plan for the day and discussed the need for him to clean all the bathrooms that evening when he got home from work. Ammi volunteered that she could clean the bathrooms and I vehemently said NO. 

I did. not. want. my mother-in-law spending the day in my bathroom! In my stuff. 

Now let me explain. I grew up in a house where privacy was widespread and well respected. I had my own room, with a door. That locked. Even when I was very young. As a teenager I had my own bathroom. I am used to having a wealth of privacy. Even M doesn't disturb my privacy because he'd never open a drawer that wasn't his or look in my purse. Not that I really need privacy. I'm not a CIA agent. It's just something weird about me, I guess. Maybe it's a particularily American thing. (There's a short story titled "Doors" in the book Arranged Marriage by Chitra Divakaruni that is a similar explanation of a privacy-craving American married to a desi. You should read it, it's a great book!)

Back to the story. I told Ammi that she should NOT clean the bathrooms. M would do it when he came home that evening. Then I left and didn't think about it again. You can probably see where this is going. When I got home, all the bathrooms had been cleaned. By Ammi. Even the master bathoom in our bedroom. The one that connected to our closet. With all my stuff in it.

It was just something about the fact that my MIL spent God only knows how long in MY bathroom, in MY bedroom, right next to my closet! It killed me. There are so many things in my bathroom cabinets that I did not want to have to explain to my her! And clothes in my closet not intended for her viewing. It killed me.

It was probably the only time I had ever had to ask M to come with me to the bedroom so that we could talk about something his mother was doing that I was not pleased with. It wasn't that I was ungrateful. I know how sweet it was for her to want to lighten our load, and who wouldn't want help around the house! I truly appreciate everything that she does for us, but some things are just off limits! For most people, the bathroom probably wouldn't be off limits, but for me it was. So I talked to M about it, asked him to make sure it never happened again - just not OUR bathroom! I think he went downstairs and explained it in terms of a "those crazy Americans" kind of thing while I searched the cabinets to make sure none of the unmentionables had been disturbed. Then closed the door behind me when I left. It never came up again.

But now we've since moved to a new place. And we no longer have a beautiful, expansive master bathroom. In fact, the master bathroom is the only one that has a walk-in shower, which is much easier for Ammi to use because of a hip replacement. So Ammi is back in our bathroom, at least occasionally for showering. It's been easier to deal with when you know it's coming, though. 

Of course, finding out she'd folded all my underwear yesterday riled up the same craving for privacy as the old bathroom did! I'll just have to keep on top of the laundry so she doesn't have to do it, I guess. Or stop caring.

What Happens When You Ask Your MIL To Take The Day Off

Yesterday morning, I told my mother in law that I would cook dinner that night. I told her that since it was her first day at our house, she should take the day off. Relax a bit. She argued with me (like she always does) about how she didn't need to relax that much, she needed some work to keep her busy, that I had a lot of studying I should be doing. I persisted. Even brought M into the discussion for my translation needs, saying that on Day 2 she could swing into full taking-care-of-us mode. She relented (or so I thought!), I started dinner, and a little over an hour later I went looking for her downstairs and found this:

A months worth of laundry, folded. Now M won't have to go find his own shirt from the big pile on the floor in front of the dryer. Or wear a wrinkled shirt to work!

A History of Mother-in-law Visits

Ammi has visited us three times.

The first visit was to attend M's graduation ceremony, and it was the only visit that Abbu, my father-in-law, also visited. The visit was planned months in advance because of the necessity of obtaining US visas and such. Ammi and Abbu had NO IDEA that M had ulterior motives for their visit until 5 weeks before their arrival when he called up to say "Oh yeah, while you're here I'd like to marry this white girl." Or something like that. I don't think that's a direct quote.

They stayed for 52 days. Everyone laughs when I say that, like I was counting down or something, but come on people - that was my HONEYMOON. Of course I counted. The visit was really wonderful. After their first week here we actually lived together for most of the time (I had to return to school about a week before they left.) We shopped a lot, we went to amusement parks, we all worked on making our wedding video. M did the editing, I picked out the still shots, and Ammi and Abbu picked out songs. Ammi cooked all day for a week and left M with a fully stock freezer, while Abbu wrote down every recipe for me in English. It ended up being a really bonding experience, and I cried when I left them. And hugged them. 

I can't remember the impetus for the second visit. By that time I'd been to Pakistan and M's sister had moved to America. Ammi came and visited for about 3 months. I remember that we had her fly into JFK airport in NYC because we didn't think she was up to changing planes by herself, but then ending up getting caught in traffic on the way and she was stuck at the airport alone for more than an hour. She bought herself a fish sandwich, borrowed some Pakistani guy's cell phone, and waited patiently! She split her time between our house and M's sister's house in Boise, Idaho. (Not a lot of Pakistanis there!) M's sister also came to stay with us for some time and we all coexisted in our tiny one bedrooms apartment - with M and I sleeping on an inflatable mattress in the living room. Again. For months. 

Again it was a lot of tourist stuff. Shopping. Driving. We took Ammi and M's sister to Niagara Falls and Amish country. We ate out at a lot of restaurants. I was just starting law school at the time and I took Ammi with me to my Orientation - even introduced her around. Several people would end up remembering me as The Girl Who Brought Her Non-English-Speaking-Mother-In-Law-To-Orientation. When Ammi returned home she said she spent a full week cleaning up from all the destruction of leaving Abbu and her two sons alone for 3 months. 

The third visit was to see babies being born. We totally forced her to change planes and she flew in locally. M's sister and I were both pregnant and were due within 3 months of each other (convenient!) She came before M's sister was due, spent time with her, and then came back to our house a few weeks before I was due and stayed until our son was 7 weeks old. I was still in school at that time, so for about 4 weeks she took care of our son full time every day, as well as cooking and cleaning. She pretty much kept our house together in those first few weeks, and even offered to have the baby sleep in her room so we could get a full night of sleep.) She also got the baby addicted to warmed up bottles, leading to us having the heat up every bottle he drank for A FULL YEAR. (Oh, we all still laugh heartily about that one. Not.)

Even then, with school and a baby, there was still a lot of touristy, going-and-driving, visiting-of-relatives during that trip. Oh, and it was during Ramadan too, so she always provided us with good iftars! (Iftar is the first food you eat after fasting all day in Ramadan.) I remember that I would be studying upstairs, behind a locked door, while she was downstairs taking care of the baby, and during his nap she would make me my favorite snacks and a cup of tea and bring them up to me. That was probably the worst goodbye, too. I always thought goodbyes would get easier over time, but once you go and add a firstborn grandson to the mix, they get pretty bad. 

This time is just visiting. We figured that since Ammi and Abbu's 1st (now-expired) US visit visa was on the basis on M's graduation, we might as well try getting them their 2nd on the basis of my graduation. When they got the visa (although Abbu is still waiting for his to arrive) we figured we might as well bring her over so she doesn't have to suffer through the hot Pakistani summer. Plus free, full time childcare is a plus if you're studying for a big test! We don't have many plans yet for this trip. Just one short drive to where the whole US contingent of M's family is gathering for the 4th of July. I'm sure we'll do some more touristy stuff in August after I'm done with my Bar Exam stuff too. 

For now, though, I've got to go clean my house!!!

False Alarm.

M, the baby, and the cousin waiting at the airport for Ammi.

I am the world's worst daughter in law. My MIL was here for 17 hours before I shipped her out again. 

Wait wait! It's not as bad as it sounds! You see, M has been traveling for his work for the past two weeks, and he's got one more week of travel left. He came back over the weekend to receive his mother (Ammi) at the airport, but he was flying back for work on Sunday afternoon. I knew that he was leaving again, but it hadn't really sunk in until right before Ammi was supposed to get here, and I was like "What am I going to do to entertain Ammi alone for a week?!!"

Actually, Ammi didn't fly here alone, she came with another women. M's sister was planning to have her MIL come for a visit also, so when they found out we were bringing Ammi, they decided that the two MILs should come together. So M's sister came to our state and we all went to the airport to receive them. As we were going to the airport I had a great idea - Ammi could go back to M's sister's house for the week!

It's great because that way Ammi doesn't spend a week sitting at home alone bored. Plus she of course wants to visit her daughter while she's visiting the US, and M's sister lives a not-too-terrible driveable distance from us, so Ammi could go with them easily. So that's what we did - we had Ammi go with them to visit for the week and when M comes back this weekend, Ammi will come back also and we can all settle into a summer together. 

So that means we're back to the countdown. T minus 6 days until MIL arrival (version 2).

M reading a book to the kids while waiting at the airport for Ammi.

They're Arrived!

My house smells like spices already.

Let's Celebrate Loving Day!

Happy Loving Day Everyone!

Loving Day is named after the Supreme Court case Loving v. Virginia, the case that legalized interacial marriage in the USA - in 1967. Just a little over 40 years ago, my marriage would have been ILLEGAL. Let's pay tribute to those who fought to give people like me the freedom to marry whomever they choose. Thank god for them.

Also, there are Loving Day Celebrations around the country - check one out!

Concerns About Extended In-Law Visits

So my mother in law is coming to visit. She'll arrive this weekend and stay for about 3 months, probably. This is a good thing. I suggested it, actually. I really like my mother in law. But even though we get along really well, and even though I think she is a truly wonderful person, the visit is not without its concerns.

First, it's strange to have a visitor in your house for that long! At some point, my in-laws will live with us; they'll likely do a rotation visiting all of their children for some months, but the majority of their time after they cease to be able to live in Pakistan alone, and specifically during their years of seeking a green card, will be living with us. At some point it will no longer feel as if they are visitors and guests, but even though my MIL has stayed with us for months at a time four times already, it's still very much like having guests in my home. There are lots of outings and excursions and shopping trips. M understandably wants his mother to be able to experience many of the things he has already experienced. We've taken her to Niagara and Amish county, camping and shopping and picnics, zoos and gardens and tours. We've been to a lot of restaurants when she's in town. We drive to visit extended family members who we never normally see until she arrives. One day these things won't happen as much, but we're not to that point yet. 

And I don't begrudge M or his mother these trips or events. Its just hard to be in tourist mode for three months at a time. And we've never done it since having a child, so perhaps it will be different this time. 

Another concern, closely related to the Visitors one, is that I like my downtime, specifically my family time. I really like the days when we just veg out on the couch - even though they are VERY rare. I like the nights when after putting the baby to bed, M and I just sit side by side on the couch, silently roaming the internet on our respective laptops. When M's mother is here, there's always something going on and there is very little alone time between M and In fact, that's something we've pledged to do  better with this go-'round. 

A older friend of the family who I've know for a very long time has been married to an Iranian for decades and has adult grown children. She once told me that she dealt with a lot of these same issues and that one of the things that helped her with this very same concern was that her master bedroom was on a different floor than the children's and MILs room. They would retire to bed earlier than necessary to get alone time. The children would sometimes join them and they'd all spend a little bit of time together as a nuclear family. 

This is a cultural difference, of course, and I think my MIL has resigned herself to never being able to understand it. She grew up in a house with 9 siblings and 2 sets of grandparents. There was not a lot of nuclear family alone time. But I grew up very differently and the idea of everyone lounging around quietly reading the Sunday paper together is something I don't want to give up. Or the idea of cuddling up with my husband to watch a movie together. It's not that my MIL shouldn't be a part of these situations, but not ALL of them. 

It's difficult to carve out these opportunities to spend time just the two of us (or just the three of us, now that the baby's around.) My MIL never goes to bed until we do. She just hangs out waiting to see what's next. It's the same way in Pakistan when we're there - everyone is in the same room basically until we all go to bed at the same time. Part of that might be the same touristy-visitor thing - perhaps if we lived there it would be different. 

Finally, Pictures!

How 'bout a few more details about the party before we move on?

First, in the morning, was the graduation:

But unfortunately, it got rained out so we had to pack up and move the party inside:

This was no easy feat because my house is not large, and the catering had to be moved inside as well, taking up the whole kitchen:

I think that the thing I was most worried about before the party was the menu. First, I wanted something that *I* liked, first and foremost, but I wanted my guests to be pleased as well. I wanted the food to reflect the half-and-half nature of my life (and of the guestlist!) One good solution would have been going with an entirely different ethnic food; Greek or some kind os Asian-fusion, but I really wanted a seafood pasta, so I decided to have a half-American, half-Pakistani menu. It took me a while to figure out two entrees that went together well, but I was really pleased with the final outcome. The American half included crab dip, cheese-olive-artichoke appetizers, a cajun shrimp pasta entree, a field greens salad with goat cheese, walnuts and balsamic vinagrete, an assortment of breads (including an Afghani naan), and some grilled veggies. The Pakistani half included some kachori and samosa appetizers and some chicken tikka masala, rice and naan.

I really liked that the two main entree were a protein in a spicy tomato sauce! They really complemented each other well, I thought, and everyone seemed to enjoy both!

My mom made the cake. It was a legal pad with law textbooks on it and a figurine of me lying on top, finally able to relax after so many years in school, surrounded by my class notes and more books. It was great!