Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Tell-All Tuesday: Grace's Story Part 2

Baby number two was due to make a debut on March 11, 2014. While I had my worries and questions about how we were going to manage a toddler and a new baby, especially in our cozy little two bedroom home, I was so excited to be giving Ellie a little sibling. I kept imagining what she would be like with a tiny newborn. I loved asking her where the baby was and seeing her excitedly point to my tummy and say baby, then point to her own little belly and say baby again. I'm pretty sure at that point she was just under the impression that everyone carried babies in their tummies. To add to all of the excitement and things to look forward to, I had two of my friends with toddlers that are Ellie's little buddies embarking on the same "have a little sibling" journey as me, one with a due date only 5 days ahead of mine. Life was pretty darn awesome.

I had some blood drawn at my 16 week appointment as another part of the sequential testing that can be done for chromosomal abnormalities and other birth defects. If you are interested in what the tests are and what they look for, there is some good information on them here: sequential testing . The decision on whether or not to participate in these screenings is a very personal one, and Kevin and I knew that it was the right decision for us just as it had been with our first pregnancy. Just like everything had gone smoothly through these tests with Ellie, I assumed that it would be the same this time around, especially after passing both the first blood test and ultrasound portion.

It was Tuesday, October 1st. Ellie had just been snugly buckled in to the back of my car. I have a little routine that I have always done with her when I put her in her seat where I buckle her up, give her a kiss and tell her I love her and that I will see her soon. She now often puckers in preparation for the kiss as I am still fumbling with her clasps, and if you have ever seen her little pucker, you can understand why I can't help but giggle a little. As I smiled my way around the back of my car to the driver's side my phone rang. I thought it was a little odd that my doctor was calling me, but for some reason the thought that something might not have gone right with my tests hadn't even crossed my mind. In fact I had completely forgotten about them altogether and just assumed that the call would be about a schedule change for the next appointment I had made. The second I heard my doctor's tone in her voice on the other end, I knew something wasn't right. She proceeded to tell me that she was very sorry to have to tell me this, and that she had been rooting for me to have a perfectly normal pregnancy this time around after what I had gone through in the beginning of my first pregnancy with severe pain and a surgery, as well as going into labor a month early, but that I had not passed this second portion of the sequential testing. The tears began to swell in my eyes and a large lump formed in my throat, but I was somehow able to hold it together for the rest of our conversation. She informed me that my results were showing that there was a 1 in 150 chance that my baby had Down Syndrome. This was considered "failing" or getting a "screen positive" and she said that genetic counseling, where I would be offered more information and further testing, was highly recommended. She kept telling me to try and stay positive and focus on the fact that 149 times out of the 150, there is nothing wrong. That there are often false positives that can occur from natural causes, and that this was most likely the case. It may have been my pregnancy hormones, but for some reason all I could focus on was that one. What if I were that one? Why did this have to be happening to me? I called Kevin and attempted to relay the information through my choking gasps and tears, and he was home from work and with me in no time. He did such a good job of helping me stay positive about the whole thing. His world had just been turned upside down in an instant as well, and yet he was still my rock. He even called the genetics specialists in Eugene to make the appointment for me as I sobbed uncontrollably in bed. I got the phone call on Tuesday, October 1st, and we had an appointment with the specialists scheduled for Friday the 4th. To say that the next couple of days felt like an eternity of torture would be an understatement. Little did I know that I would soon be wishing I could go back to this time. Back to the unknown. Back to still holding on to that little bit of hope that this was all just a big mistake, like a horrific nightmare that I could sweat out, breathe through, and be done with.

By the time we ended up in the doctor's office lobby in Eugene I had become relatively optimistic. The 1 in 150 odds, while considered enough to seek further testing by doctors, did not seem that great to me. I filled out a number of forms and papers before being called back. We initially met with a genetics counselor where we engaged in some small talk, were given some information and discussed our options a little. She informed us that we would be doing a routine in-depth ultrasound that would check for certain markers of Down Syndrome, and we decided that we should just wait to discuss anything further until we had completed this portion of the appointment. A sweet, middle-aged woman performed the ultrasound as Kevin sat in a chair by my side, holding my hand. She let us know there was a heartbeat and for that moment, I was relieved. The rest of the exam took a really, really long time, with what seemed to be repetitive pictures and measurements being taken. She didn't say a word the entire time, except for when she told us to look away (we had told them that we were waiting to find out the sex of the baby until it was born) and while I knew this couldn't be a good thing, and the images on the screen didn't even look right in my own eyes, I still felt hope. Or was it denial? I told myself I wasn't a doctor, so maybe I just didn't know what I was looking at, and she was just doing a thorough job and concentrating. After what seemed like hours of holding my breath and a million thudding heartbeats in my throat, she finally spoke again. She wanted to confirm our due date, as the baby was measuring about a week behind what we had thought. My heart sank a little. She then spoke the words that I'm sure she was dreading speaking the entire time we had all been in silence. She was so sorry, but things didn't look good at all, and she was going to go get the doctor who would look at the baby himself as well as the results she had gathered. I completely lost it. I had no words, just tears. I remember looking over at Kevin as she left the room and seeing sheer fear and devastation when our eyes met. It was a strange sensation seeing something like this from him, something usually so foreign to those strong, comforting eyes I know so well.

The doctor was a large man, he was very tall and had a kind face. I could see the sympathy in his eyes as he entered the room. He performed the ultrasound himself in silence for a short time. I couldn't look at him or the screen. I just stared off into nothing, tears falling out of the outer corners of my eyes. He proceeded to explain various issues with our baby in medical terms I did not understand. What did come across clearly, however, were the words that no expecting parents should ever have to hear: "not compatible with life." I felt like I couldn't breathe and was certain I was going to vomit. We decided to proceed with an amniocentesis since the baby was not going to make it anyway, and it would tell us what exactly went wrong as well as whether or not there might be any hereditary issues that would cause problems with future pregnancies. As if being told I was no longer going to have the little infant I had been longing and planning for for the past 17 weeks wasn't painful enough, I then had a mile long needle inserted through my belly and into my uterus to extract what felt like a gallon of fluid. Surprise! To top it all off they finished with a shot in my ass because of my particular blood type. I felt so low and devastated, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

Our baby had various deformities and vital organs that were not developing correctly, if at all. The doctor informed us that these were markers more indicative of conditions known as Trisomy 13 or Trisomy 18, not Down's syndrome. He explained how I was basically the current lifeline for this baby, and that it would not survive outside of the womb, or possibly even too much longer inside of the womb based on what he could see from the ultrasound. It was like we had a child on life support and had to decide when to pull the plug. We had to make what was the most difficult, yet also the most obvious choice ever. Did we want our baby to die now, or die later? There are so many things that factor into making a decision such as this one, and we made the decision that we found to be best for our family. For us, for Ellie, for the little life that was slowly dying inside of me. We decided to terminate the pregnancy. We scheduled the two day procedure for Wednesday October 9th and Thursday October 10th. 

At the time I was so angry and frustrated, I wanted nothing to do with the pregnancy anymore. I wanted that baby out of me right then and there, so I could forget about the whole thing and move on. I couldn't fathom carrying a baby 5 more days, just to have it taken away from me. As time went on, I began to have a change of heart and became more grateful. I concentrated so hard on feeling every little thing and touching and talking to my belly. I knew it was the last little time I would have with my baby. It is really an odd and emotionally draining thing to have to start grieving the loss of a child you haven't even met, or technically even lost yet. I had more questions and emotions surge through my body in those 5 days than most people can even begin to imagine. Were we doing the right thing? Was my baby in pain? Why didn't they catch this sooner? Would it have even mattered if it were sooner? The amniocentesis results came back on Monday, and while the exact diagnosis did not matter in whether or not our baby would make it, the doctor's assumption of the condition known as Trisomy 13, typically the most severe of the three most common chromosomal abnormalities, was confirmed. The good news was that this was a completely random occurrence, and while it meant that Kevin and I had simply had some really shitty luck, there were no hereditary issues involved. 

One very unfortunate reality in the decision that we made was that my procedure had to be performed at a place in Portland that was sugar coatedly named Lovejoy Surgicenter. My doctor warned me that this was technically an abortion clinic. I have grown to hate the terms abortion and termination. It isn't fair to just group every case together like that. Before my experience with Grace, abortion was not something that entered my mind often. I had always viewed it as something that I did not think that I could personally ever do, nor did I necessarily agree with it, but I have still always believed in a person's right to choose. I am now grateful that while I unfortunately had to go to a clinic instead of a hospital to have a procedure that would stop my baby from suffering any further, I at least had that choice. I understand the complexity of it all so much more, and that the statement "you can't judge someone's decision until you have truly walked in their shoes" is just so true. As we drove around looking for parking I saw an elderly gentleman outside of the building protesting with a sign that read "let your baby live." I was so angry. I wanted to stop the car and run over to the old man and tell him that I wholeheartedly agreed. That I wanted my baby so badly, I would have given anything to have it! I felt like I should have had my own sign, in a desperate plea to please, someone, something, just let my baby live. But my baby couldn't live. I guess I can't blame him for standing up for something he believed in, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Feeling judged and misunderstood by someone was the last thing I needed at a time like that. 

As I was coming out of surgery I kept asking for my baby. All I wanted was to hold my baby, and I couldn't quite understand why that wasn't possible. When I became a little more conscious and understood where I was, I asked the nurse if the baby had been a boy or a girl. Kevin and I had planned on waiting to find this out until we had received the amniocentesis paperwork in the mail, but I had no filter at the time and it just slipped out so freely, like there was something else inside of me making my lips and tongue move on their own with such a purpose. She said it was a girl, and I said I wanted to name her Grace. Kevin simply nodded and said okay. I then made sure they had taken the footprints I had demanded before surgery at least 3 times. I felt so empty. So sick, and sad, and helpless...and empty.

In difficult times such as this one, I find that it can sometimes be helpful to search for things among all of the grief and despair that you can find some comfort in. 

I find comfort in knowing that Trisomy 13 was something that randomly happened at the time of conception and that there was nothing that Kevin or I could have done to prevent this. 

I find comfort in knowing that Grace did not have a chance at life from the very beginning, making the choice to let her go a little less heart-wrenching. 

I find comfort in thinking that I suffered through something very difficult and painful so that my little baby girl did not have to feel pain or suffer any longer, if at all. 

I find comfort in believing that her tiny spirit left her body when she died, and that Kevin and I decided to donate her body tissue to research for things like cancer and diabetes. I like to think she is somewhat connected to my brother Logan, who lived with type 1 diabetes, in doing this. 

I find comfort in believing that she is somewhere with Logan. They MUST have fun together, he would make an awesome uncle. 

I find comfort in knowing that while others will undoubtedly make assumptions about and judge our decision, we know that it was the decision that made the most sense for us as a family, and that is all that matters in the end. 

Finally, I find comfort in thinking about how someday I will have another healthy baby, and while I know this new life will not ever replace Grace, our family can still grow, remembering our little girl along the way. We love you so much baby Grace.

I am optimistic that 2014 has a lot of good things to bring to our little family, and I can't wait to see what it has in store. I hope that everyone has a great year ahead of them. Please be safe, and give your loved ones a kiss for the new year while you can, even if you don't make it to midnight (8 pm is pretty much my new midnight these days, yeesh) Happy New Year! 

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Tell-All Tuesday: I Love DIY Projects-Chunky Crayon Tutorial

I would like to think of myself as a creative person. I have always enjoyed anything that I am able to create with my own two hands. When it comes to gift giving, I think that making your own things not only makes a gift a little more meaningful, but the process can also be fun, and usually makes for a little less money spent which is always a good thing in my book. Ellie also enjoys being artistic, like many other toddlers, but still has a little bit of a hard time with her fine motor skills when it comes to coloring. I had been trying to find some large, chunky crayons to put in her stocking this year when I came across the idea to just make some of our own. I decided they could be a cute little gift that Ellie and I could create together to give to her little buddies for Christmas. While it really ended up being a project more suitable for just me, I think that children that are a little bit older might be able to help out more, and it was still fun to make them myself.

Chunky Crayon Tutorial

What you will need:
  • non-toxic high quality crayons (such as crayola)
  • razor blade (optional)
  • oven
  • oven safe containers that you do not mind getting ruined with wax (I used glass jars)
  • baking sheet and foil
  • candy molds (I chose large plastic snowflake molds since they were for Christmas gifts)
I started out by raiding the old crayon stash at my mom's house, where I found a tin full of old crayola crayons. Score! Even if I had purchased a large box of crayons for the project, it would not have been too expensive.
Next I sorted the crayons into color groups. If you just mix them randomly, you will probably get a muddy brown color. If that is what you are going for though then mix away :)

Peeling all of the paper off of the crayons was the next step. When I was about halfway through them I decided to use a razor blade to cut the paper and then peel it off in one big piece. This made for a much quicker peeling process, but obviously wouldn't be the best option if you are having your little one(s) participating.

Preheat your oven to 250 degrees. You will need something to put the crayons in to melt them into liquid. I found that glass jars worked really well for this, and I was lucky that my dad happened to have quite a large collection of these in his garage. I would also recommend lining a baking sheet or pan with foil to put the jars on/in, as the crayon wax can get a little messy. The next step is to break the crayons up into pieces and place them in the jars, which can be put on the foil lined pan and into the oven.
Melting the crayons down can take a little bit of time and patience. I ended up turning the oven temperature higher because patience is not really my thing, but I (and my unwilling victim Kevin, Ellie was luckily in bed at this point) sure did pay the price in stinky crayon fumes. I would also recommend making sure you are in a well ventilated area and maybe cracking a window or two. I think that if you are able to remain patient and keep the oven temperature low, you can probably avoid much of the waxy crayon stench.
Once the crayons were completely melted down, I carefully poured the wax into the molds. This is also a step that should be left to the adults, the wax will be VERY hot. You can place the filled molds in the freezer to speed up the cooling process. Once they are completely cooled, the crayons should easily pop out of your molds, and you will have brand new, chunky toddler-friendly crayons in the shape of your choice! I think they turned out pretty darn cute :)

I decided to put the crayons in cute little Holiday tins that they can be stored in, and wrap them up with some string and these adorable little gift tags that I found on Pinterest. They are an awesome free PDF printable that you can fill in yourself and print at home. Oh, and did I mention they were FREE?? You can find them here: gift tag printable
Just scroll down and click on the "download woodland gift tags & labels" button to get the PDF.

I am so proud of how they turned out! I hope that everyone has an amazing, fun and safe Holiday spent with loved ones. Merry Christmas Eve and GO BEAVERS! I can't wait for Ellie to see what Santa brings her tonight!

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Tell-All Tuesday: Grace's Story Part 1

I have decided to break this up a little bit, both because it is a little long for one blog post, but also because it is somewhat overwhelming and difficult to write about all at once. I thought that the words would most likely flow as freely and continuously as the tears that accompany them, but as I reached a certain point in writing this I found that I didn't want to go any further, so I decided I would just write it in parts. 

It was a nice sunny day in June. I had recently found out that some of our good friends were expecting their second baby, and I was so envious. I had been itching with baby fever lately, but Kevin and I had decided to wait until later in the year, possibly November or December to try for one. Seeing as how I had two weddings that I was going to be a part of, one in August and one in October, we agreed that it was probably best to wait and try after everything was over and life was a little more calm again. While I had finally given up on the idea of getting pregnant, I just didn't feel right, and I couldn't ignore that one night on Father's Day where there may or may not have been a one time risky incident. Based on the timing of things, I knew it was highly unlikely that we could have conceived, but what if I was wrong? What if we had beaten the odds and actually became pregnant? Maybe it was my wishing and hoping that made me do it, or a friend's excited encouragement, but I bought a test on a whim and took it. I left the stick on the bathroom counter as I went downstairs to play with Ellie, telling myself over and over again that there was no way that the test would be positive, and that it was silly that I had even taken it. I think I was trying not to get my hopes up so that when I walked through that bathroom door and didn't see a positive result I wouldn't be overly disappointed. About five minutes passed and I couldn't stand it anymore. I ran upstairs, took a deep breath, and swung open the bathroom door, only to find two pink lines staring up at me. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking, I could barely even pick up the stick to get a better look. I WAS PREGNANT! I couldn't stop smiling, and felt like I spent the rest of that day dancing and skipping instead of walking. I decided I obviously had to tell Kevin right away, but I wanted to try and be creative about it, and I certainly didn't want to tell him over the phone.

I put my positive test in a brown paper lunch bag and called Kevin to ask if he could have a picnic lunch with Ellie and me. He agreed, and I picked him up from work and we went to a park nearby. I couldn't wait until he had even taken a bite of his lunch before I had to tell him that I had a special treat for him. I secretly had my phone videotaping as he unrolled and excitedly dug into the paper bag. The video captured his intensely long stare into the bag while muttering "are you kidding me?" very softly a few times, and then another long gaze of disbelief in my direction, and then ended with a little bit of inappropriate language and a long sigh that seemed to say "ready or not, here we go again!" Despite his initial shock, he was ultimately just as excited as I was to be starting this next chapter in our lives together. What he wasn't excited about, however, was the lack of the supposed "special treat" in the bag. I guess I could have thrown a few cookies in there as well, but I really didn't want to mix the two. Plus, he admitted he was probably too excited to have eaten anything anyway. 

Aside from a lot of not-just-morning morning sickness and fatigue, the pregnancy progressed well. Time was flying by this time with my every second being focused on taking care of Ellie. I was fortunate enough to have a toddler who still took naps, and while I took as many opportunities as I could to nap as well, I still felt like I was running a daily marathon. We had an appointment around 8 weeks to find the little fluttering heartbeat. Success. You are typically told at that appointment by your physician that your risk of losing the baby after that point drops dramatically. Party time! I ordered "The New Baby" by Mercer Mayer online, took Ellie to the park with Kevin and shot some pregnancy announcement photos. While I couldn't wait to share the news with everyone, we decided to wait until we had made it to the commonly known "safe zone" of 12 weeks pregnant before displaying our announcement on the internet for all to see. We had our 12 week appointment and ultrasound, and while the tech had an extremely difficult time getting the accurate measurements that he needed, we were told later by my doctor that we had passed the initial stage of screening for chromosomal abnormalities. In my mind, I'm sure like the many minds of other pregnant women who have not yet experienced a previous loss, I figured I was in the clear from there. If there were something wrong with my baby, they surely would have seen it by now. Plus, I had reached the safe zone, and was a young(ish), healthy woman in her baby-making prime!

We included Ellie in our weekly bump pictures this time around, with a cute little chalkboard that read the number of weeks pregnant I was on it. Tuesday nights were the one night of the week that I attempted to at least have showered and dressed in something other than pajama pants by the time Kevin arrived home from work so that I would look a little more presentable in my photos. Looking back on it now, I am glad we were able to get a few of these under our belts before receiving the devastating news. I initially had a very angry view on it all, taking all of my pregnancy pictures down from the internet and wishing they had never existed. I was so mad at the world, but I am thankful that I didn't let my angry self delete them permanently from my computer, as hard as they might be to look at now.

While everything seemed to be going just fine, I did notice a constant nausea with this pregnancy that I just couldn't kick. When I was pregnant with Ellie, I remember it was like a switch had flipped right at 12 weeks, and I suddenly had this wild burst of energy, with absolutely no sickness anymore. This time around, my fatigue and nausea continued with no end in sight. It makes me wonder now if my little girl was trying to tell me that something was wrong, but my unsuspecting, innocent to the tortures of what losing a pregnancy can be like self had no idea that something was very, very wrong.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Ellie's Nursery

I am having a little bit of a sentimental Sunday here. I don't know if it is because I have been thinking about my friends' upcoming little bundles as I see their beautiful bellies grow, or maybe because I still have the number of weeks pregnant I am supposed to be with Grace still marked in my calendar on every Tuesday, but I just have little newborns stamped on the inside of my eyelids, and keep thinking about Ellie as a tiny brand new life. So fresh and new and helpless, wanting nothing more than to be held, and fed, and changed, and fed, and loved, and fed. It was such a whirlwind rush of a time, and I wish there was some sort of button I could push to take me back whenever I wanted. To see those brand new wrinkly little hands and toes, see those adorably awkward little chicken legs, smell that new baby smell, and hear those little squeaks and coos. I love sitting in the large gray chair in Ellie's nursery, sometimes while she is playing around me, sometimes alone while she is with Kevin downstairs, remembering all of these things. It's the closest thing besides skimming through photos that I ever get to it all. I adore that room, even if it melts me down into a mushy little sap. Kevin and I put so much time and love into making it the best space our new baby could ever want, until we could finally fill it with the truest creation of our absolute love and affection for each other, our little Ellie Bean.

While I know I posted a before and after photo of the room sometime on Facebook, I don't think that I ever shared the ultimate final result. So here it is!

Rug, Dresser, Chandelier and Closet Curtains: Ikea
Crib: DaVinci Kalani 4-in-1 Convertible Crib
Crib Bedding Set: Just One You by Carters

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Tell-All Tuesday: I'm addicted to Pinterest

Pinterest is a dangerous black hole of ideas upon ideas of millions of recipes and crafts you may never try, or outfits and home furnishings you will probably never be able to buy, or hilarious quotes and sayings you wish you could say out loud, but mostly, and most importantly, pictures of cats doing adorable things :). Seriously though, I feel like I have a whole second life planned out for myself and my family, full of expensive wardrobes and large beautiful homes full of gorgeous furniture and delicious smells of baking and slow cooker meals, that we will rarely even live in because of all of the amazing travel sites we have planned out. It is a consuming world of clicking and wishing, and I will be the first to admit that I spend way too much time engrossed in it. The worst realization is when I see my little girl acting out for attention because she is jealous of the little handheld electronic that I am immersed in. And she very well should be. Sometimes I hate that little phone for stealing my attention, but it isn't fair to blame the phone. I have complete control over what I do with it (at least I hope I do) and it is all about moderation and finding a balance. Plus, Pinterest has provided me with some of the best craft ideas and recipes I have ever tried! It's not all bad, I just need to keep in mind that there is a time and place for exploring it, and while Ellie is awake and lively is not one of those times. Today I would like to share the yummy eggnog pancake recipe that I stumbled across on Pinterest Sunday morning. I was so jealous to find what I was missing while making the cakes, but at least Kevin got to enjoy it, and breakfast was deliciously worth it.

Eggnog Pancakes

The original recipe can be found here: eggnog pancakes .

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon (not in original recipe, but I think cinnamon is good in anything)
  • 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
  • 2 cups eggnog
  • 1/4 cup vegetable or canola oil
  • In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, nutmeg and cinnamon. 
  • In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, eggnog and oil.
  • Combine the mixtures and stir until slightly lumpy.
  • Heat griddle or large skillet to medium heat and spray with nonstick spray. 
  • pour about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake, and cook until golden.
  • Flip each pancake when tops are bubbly and edges are slightly dry (about 1 to 2 minutes per side)
  • Serve with desired toppings and enjoy! We used syrup and butter with a powdered sugar and cinnamon mixture on top :) Oh, and don't forget the coffee, so yummy!

Friday, December 6, 2013

Snow Day

I love snow! I am one of those people that absolutely HATES being cold, but for some reason I just love the snow. Usually when our little town gets a weather forecast involving snow I expect to wake up to a disappointing half of an inch or so, if that even, lightly dusted outside. Okay I will admit it I actually get really excited, like Christmas morning when you are 5 years old excited, for any amount of snow :). When I looked outside this morning I couldn't believe it! It's a good thing I wasn't up before Ellie was because I probably would have gone running into her room and ripped the curtains open just to show her. I was pretty happy when I did show her the winter wonderland outside of her window and she actually reciprocated my excitement though. I rushed her through breakfast and stuffed her into about 5 layers plus a jacket (we don't have a snowsuit for her) and hurried us out the door. The poor child probably thought there was some sort of worldwide crisis occurring. Nope, just snow. Lots and lots of snow!
Mom I can't move my arms what are we doing?

I don't know who had more fun: Winston in the snow, or Ellie watching Winston in the snow.

Getting buried.

My little snowball. She could hardly walk in the deep snow and kept saying "uh uh stuck, stuck."
Back inside getting warm.
Time for a hot chocolate picnic! Or maybe a nap...
I love her bear bottom :)

Rhino joined us while the water was heating.

Yes please!

Can't leave reindeer out mom.

Watching the neighbor boy shovel snow.

Kiss please!
Okay it's officially nap time.
An added bonus, OSU closed today around noon and Kevin got to come home early for half of a snow day! Now we are just waiting for this little sleepyhead to wake up for round 2. Happy Friday!