Signs of Spring

Since I am currently posting pictures. Here are some signs of Spring from yesterday when it actually hit 45 degrees and we could all go outside and play.

Daffodils growing in the garden:




One of our cats playing in the yard (the other cat is to scared to come out right now):




My husband also working in the yard:

Gabriel Has a Little Lamb

My mom bought Gabriel his first Easter basket. Sometimes I am totally amazed at how much she "gets" it. Other times I think she's even more excited than me.

Happy Easter!

20 Things

Below are 20 things you wouldn't know about me unless I told you:

1. I was a gymnast in high school and my senior year I placed 8th in the state on balance beam.

2. Also in high school, I dated a drug dealer who was three years older than me for about 2 years. I finally got rid of him by getting him to join the army.

3. I love cheesy teen dramas and currently own the DVD's for Dawson's Creek, Felicity, Everwood, Gilmore Girls, and The OC.

4. I have severe asthma and have been 20 minutes from respiratory arrest on more than one occasion. I am now permanently on steriods which improved my quality of life by a thousand fold.

5. I look like I am 19 years old, mostly because I am 5'1'' and 100 lbs.

6. When I was little I wanted to be a nun because I wanted to be Julie Andrews in "The Sound of Music". My mom finally had to break the news to me that we weren't catholic, so I coudn't be a nun.

7. When I was in junior high, I used to pretend that Robin on "General Hospital" had a sister on the show and I played the sister. I even went so far as to try to mail my picture to her agent and ask if they could get me the part (which didn't exist). What a dork, huh?

8. I prefer kitchen gadgets over any other gift.

9. I don't wear jewelry (except my wedding ring). Partly because I don't like it and partly because I am allergic. I can't wear earrings of any kind and necklaces give me hives.

10. I also don't really wear make-up. This is out of sheer laziness.

11. I despise shopping (unless its for kitchen gadgets). Malls give me the creeps.

12. I don't really like sweets (even chocolate) but I love salty things especially BBQ chips.

13. My favorite TV show right now is Good Eats on The Food Network.

14. I think Adam Brody on the OC is the hottest guy on TV right now. Its all about the smile and the dorkiness.

15. I prefer to eat a hamburger, fries, and a Coke for breakfast. I don't really like any breakfast foods because they give me the sugar shakes (I have hypoglcemia).

16. In most instances, if something is trendy, I won't partake even if its only out of principle.

17. I get nervous in large groups of people where mingling is involved. Small talk is excruciating for me. At a party you would normally find me in the corner having an indepth conversation with one or two people.

18. When I was in fourth grade, I won the young author award for a book titled, "Disaster Vacation". The book was terrible.

19. My picture has been in the paper about 20 times for various reasons. I've also been on the local news.

20. I am a roller coaster junky. Cedar Point is one of my favorite places on earth. I'm one of those nerds who run from ride to ride. I can't even sleep the day before we go there.

Note: While writing this I asked my husband what was something people wouldn't know about me and all he could come up with was, "I don't know". Isn't that lovely?

Like a Square Peg in a Round Hole

Heard at our Bible study last night:

"Sam's Club is selling What Would Jesus Do bagels. They have Bible memory versus on them. I thought that was really great!"

My response, "Really??!!! (think incredulous tone), I think its going way too far."

Her reply, as she stares at me like I didn't just speak english, "Well, I thought it was wonderful."

Yes, because that is exactly what we need. . . .. to make Christianity more commercialized. That would be awesome!

And I wonder why we don't fit in with this group.

Beyond Reproach

This was the stupidest post so I decided to delete it. Plus, it wasn't really saying what I wanted it to say.

Life Changing Event Part II - Infertility. . The Process

OK, I think I'm finally ready to write this one now. I'm not sure why today, but the mood has finally struck me right. So here goes:

Part II picks up after my miscarriage in Sept. 2001. As I mentioned in the Part I post, I bled for several weeks and finally had to have a D&C in October. Afterward, I still continued to bleed for weeks. My obgyn had to prescribe meds to get me to stop bleeding. As a result of all these complications, we weren't able to finally start trying again until January of 2002. At this point, I still did not know I had a problem. Granted, we had been trying for 10 months before we finally conceived the first time. I figured we would have some sex and within a few months, I would be pregnant again (and terrified). In February, we took a little vacation to Chicago to get a break from things. Nothing special, just a long weekend in a nice hotel. We had a nice time and drove back home feeling refreshed both mentally and physically. We arrived home around 8PM and the phone rang. It was my husbands brother. They never call us so I knew what this meant. I ran up the stairs and hid in what was to be the nursery and cried. Sure enough, my SIL was pregnant and expecting in October.

After the miscarriage, the whole TTC (trying to conceive) business got a whole lot more serious. We were timing and charting temps. We were having sex every other day (unless I was bleeding). But, I was still naive about the process. I was no where near the fertility guru I am now. March, April, May, June, July, August, rolled by with no positive test in sight. At the end of August, I went in to see my obgyn for my yearly check up. I complained to him about our TTC woes. He pretty much blew me off stating, "oh, you are young. .. if you did it once you can do it again". He was oh so very wrong! After explaining that it had now been almost two years since we started trying with only 1 failed pregnancy, I got him to relent and sign us up for a first round of tests. We did the tests and he decided that I wasn't ovulating. Mind you, he didn't even know what cycle day I was on when the test were run which make the bulk of the results absolutely useless! He prescribed. . .of course, any IF'er knows what is coming . . .let's all say it together. . .clomid (50mg). Then he sent me on my way with no monitoring at all. AND, he told me to take it on days 5-9 of my cycle with day 1 being the first day of spotting. Ummmmm. . .. hello. . .. I spot for 7-10 days! I wasted two absolutely useless cycles on 50mg and then called the office to say it wasn't working at all. Then I wasted another useless cycle on 100mg. Three useless cycles. . that. . ..made. . . me.. . .. ABSOLUTELY. . . CRAZY!!!!!!! Here is where IF became an obsession.

At this point in this wonderful journey, I had developed two wonderful gifts. #1 - I could pick out other infertiles without them ever saying anything and #2 - I could pick out pregnant women, long before any announcements were made. I started to talk to one woman who works down the hall from me. I was asking very specific questions to try to get her to tell me she was an IF'er because I just knew she was. It worked. She recommended an RE and STRONGLY suggested I make an appointment. At this time, I was an infertility message board junky and had learned a great deal about TTC and infertility. I knew that things weren't going well for us and that I had to take matters into my own hands. Over Christmas break, I called and made an appointment with Dr. H. Then, I got off the phone and cried. I had no choice, I had to admit that I did indeed suffer from infertility.

Our first consultation with Dr. H was in February of 2003. She looked over our file and concluded the same thing I did. . .that the obgyn's test were totally useless. She then gave us a laundry list of tests that had to be done (which I knew was coming) including an HSG. Afterward, my husband and I went to IHOP and miserably talked about whether we really wanted to go through all of this. We felt so overwhelmed and depressed. Infertilty had already taken over our lives for a whole year. We went back and forth for awhile over pancakes and carafes of coffee and finally decided that we would give it a go.

I think the HSG was scheduled in March and I was nervous. For those who don't know, this is where they shoot die up into your uterus and hope it comes squirting out through your fallopian tubes. It is extremely uncomfortable, to say the least. When it was finally my turn, Dr. H was yanking me all around the table with the damn thing. She moved me to the left, then to the right. She was just short of putting one bootied foot in between my legs and giving the instrument a swift kick. I just clenched my fists and tried to count my breaths. It was not the most pleasant experience. Afterwards, I waited in the hall for her to give me the results. I knew it wasn't going to be good. She started with the good news first, "well the good news is, your tubes are open" but then went on to tell me that my uterus was misshapen and had a septum (or a wall) dividing it in half. She said we would talk about it in our next consultation.

It was decided that I would have a laparoscopy. She would make a little incision right under my belly button and right above the pubic bone. She would then insert through my vagina a laser and would laser off the wall, taking care not to laser a hole through the top of my uterus. She would also poke around in there with a camera and take some home videos of my ovaries, uterus, fallopian tubes just hanging out, being lazy no good bums. The lap was scheduled for May and I was optimistic that this would fix everything and I would be pregnant in no time. After the surgery, I was still half under anesthesia and riding home in the car (trying not to puke). I asked my husband how it went since Dr. H didn't talk to me (or at least I didn't remember her talking to me). His response, "we can talk about it later". OK, well that raises a red flag, wouldn't you say. I snapped back, "No, lets talk about this now. . what's wrong". I later came to find out things didn't go exactly as planned. It turns out the wall in my uterus was so long (all the way to my cervix) that she couldn't get the laser in. She also said my uterus was folded in half and attached to my bowels (I later came to find out it was actually attached to itself and not my bowels). I also have severe endometriosis on my ovaries. In the words of Dr. H, "In my 20 years of practice, I have never seen a patient with the problems that you have". Always reassuring to hear! I was even presented to her other colleagues as a case of interest. I became somewhat of a collaborative effort. In some ways, this worked out for me. As a result of my specialness, Dr. H took a great interest in me.

I was presented with a few options, on how to treat this. All of them involved 6 months of Lupron. I ended up scheduling major surgery in August of 2003. During this surgery, she made a 6 inch incision in my abdomen, burned off my endo, detached my uterus from itself, and opened up my uterus and removed the wall. I was in the hospital afterwards for 3 days with an epidural (can you say wonderful!). Then I had six weeks off from work (can you say spectacular!). I recovered really quickly and even Dr. H said she had never seen someone bounce back as fast as me. What can I say, I was determined. The true test was to come in November when a second HSG was to be done. Dr. H's feared that one of three things could happen as a result of the wall in my uterus being so large. #1 - The side walls of my ute would collapse and heal stuck to each other. #2 - The side walls could collapse anywhere from a little to a lot, but not attach to themselves. or #3 - I would still have a smaller and misshapen uterus but the walls would stay out. She never gave me any statistics on my likelihood of getting pregnant. She never gave me pep talks. She was very matter of fact with no promises. To this day, I appreciate that. She said, if #1 or #2 happened, that I could always use a surrogate. My husband and I discussed this, and while we had many offers from friends and family, we knew this wasn't the right option for us.

November finally came and I propped myself back up on that table. .. hands clenched. . .counting my breaths. This time, there was no heaving and tossing of my small frame across the table. I carefully watched the screen to see how the die would outline my uterus. Praying I would see a triangle shape instead of an hourglass. Thankfully, the side walls stayed open. As Dr. H put it, "its not a perfect uterus, but its much better". We were prescribed six months of trying on our own and then IVF.

As you've read in Life Changing Event Part IV - Adoption. We gave up after only a few cycles of trying on our own and moved on to adoption. Many have asked why we would go through all of the effort and the surgeries just to quit. There are many reasons why we moved on. We knew we didn't want to do IVF because of our small chance of success coupled with the fact that none of it would be covered under our health insurance. We couldn't spend that kind of money on something that most likely wouldn't work. We needed more of a sure thing. We also just could not go on with TTC'ing anymore. It was eating us alive. At this point it had been over three years of mostly misery. Finally, we felt at peace with the decisions we had made. Dr. H did make it possible for me to conceive and/or carry a baby if it happened by some freakish miracle (but trust me, we aren't holding our breath). We knew we would not have any regrets. We had gone as far as we could with treatment given our finances and mental health. I've never looked back on these decisions with regret.

The South House

Our neighborhood is a bit. . . .oh, how should I put this. . . . .ghetto. If you pull out of my driveway and go one mile east, you are in Detroit. If you pull out of my driveway and go about 2 miles west, you are in a happy little suburb that is statistically the least diverse city in America (no joke - its the most white city in the whole US). Its a little strange really.

We live in an older city, that hit its population max most likely in the late sixties as a result of urban sprawl. I'm sure at one point it was a wealthy city, filled with all the well paid middle class auto workers. Now, its really a mixed bag of people. That is really part of why we like it. No one puts on a show in this town. You can go to the grocery store in your sweatpants and hair in a pony tail without feeling weird. Neighbors actually come outside and talk to one another over the chain link fence. My neighbor to the north is seriously the neighborhood police. She knows everyone and always has everyone's back. If someone has an extra bag of fertilizer, they throw it over the fence for someone else to use. If it snows, its not unusual to come home and find someone already shoveled your sidewalk. Its nice.

Both my husband and I grew up in what is now an incredibly yuppie town about 20 minutes southwest of where we live now. When my parents moved there in 1987, the roads were still dirt and we had a horse farm behind us. It wasn't unusual to spot fox and deer in our backyard. Now, the whole city is overgrown and overpriced. My parents then $100,000 home is now worth about $300,000. You can't drive anywhere in that city because the population outgrew the roads. It has a nice little down town though (think Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls only without the small town folk and feel). In fact, the city is so large now that there are 3 different high schools on the same campus. Students are registered in one but take classes in all three (it is bigger than all of the community colleges in the area. . .. heck, its bigger than the college I went to). No one ever talked in our neighborhood growing up. Everyone built privacy fences. There were homeowner's associations that told you what color you could or could not paint your house and what hours of the day you were allowed to keep your garage door open (once again, no joke).

When my husband and I decided to buy a house we were 23, still in college, and poor. It was out of the question, that we would buy a house where we grew up (given that we weren't going to get a loan for a half a mil). In fact, given what we could afford, the city we ended up in was really the only place we could get a decent house. We always assumed we would find good jobs, make a lot of money, and move back. However, once we got here we decided we liked it. In fact, now when I go back to visit my parents, I feel totally creeped out by that city. All I want to do is leave and go back "home".

All that being said, our neighborhood has its problems.. .. . particularily, the house just to our south. Many of the houses on our street are rentals. The South House is no exception. We bought our house in May 2001. Since then, there have been four renters (and here is where the story gets interesting).

Renters 1 (family of 4):
One mom, one dad (think long straggly dirt hair always wearing a bandana), two teenagers who constantly huffed on aerosol cans with mom and dad present

The Plot: A few weeks after we moved in at about 2:30AM we hear a crashing and some yelling. We get out of bed and begin to look around fearing someone is in the house. I look out the window to see dad, in his whitie tighties and white tube socks pulled up, hair flying everywhere running down the street throwing a bird cage (complete with bird). Mom is chasing after him in her see through night gown, hair flying, pulling at his arm/hair/whitie tighties. This ended when the cops showed up. (Seriously, I couldn't even make up something that bizarre)

Renters 2 (Bob and Son):
One dad and one teenage son.

The Plot: Son constantly smokes pot from the upstairs bedroom which overpowers our whole house until the cats can't walk straight anymore. We have to close all the windows in the dead of summer with no A/C. We are embarrassed to have our parents over because it is so strong. In between the smoke downs, father and son have knock down drag out fights that can be heard with both ours and their windows closed and over the TV. In the afternoons, father can be found in his backyard with his lady friend wearing nothing but matching blue robes smoking and drinking coffee. He sits in his plastic lawn chair with legs spread open and the top of his robe akimbo so I can see all of his nasty chest hair. OK - ummm gross!

Renters 3 (young couple and baby):
We think at least. We never actually saw these people but there was a stroller on the front porch for a while. They never came out of the house and always had the blinds and windows closed.

Renters 4 (some chick and her male pals)
Until last night I never saw this woman but she does have guys that sleep in a van in front of her house sometimes. Other times I have seen a guy in a black truck. No one has ever spoke to us though.

The Plot: Last night 2:30AM (what is it about that hour?). We both wake up to hear a pounding like someone is beating one of our cars with a hammer. We've heard this sound before over the last few weeks but could never figure out what it was. We both get up once again and start looking around. Finally I spot the chick at the South House, she's beating up one of the male pals truck with her fists and practically breaking the passenger side window. She is screaming at the absolute top of her lungs incoherently while he yells back that she is a bitch. He floors it down the driveway and peels out down the street.

More stories to come. . . .tomorrow. . .

Typical Conversation

A typical conversation I've had a few times already:

Conversation Participant (CP): So when do you get to bring the baby home?

Me: May. . . best case

CP: Wow, May, that's soon!

Me: That's best case

CP: Well, you never know. . . .

Me: You're right! It could be October!**


In my world, I always know, "you never know" is always bad.

**This is the optimist in me, the pessimist would have said "Next March".

Not There Yet

". . .we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perserverance; perserverance character; and character hope." Romans 5:3-4

I was sitting in church on Sunday, half listening to the message (I get bored very easily. My husband always jokes that he's going to have to bring coloring books and snacks for both Gabriel and me). Our pastor was talking about suffering and I was interested in how he was going to present it. He and I have had talks in the past regarding such topics as the church's inability to comfort the hurting, pat christian phrases, and the like. He's an awesome guy, very real and transparent. He tries to make it a point to show people that he is a real person too, with real struggles, passions, etc. He's a great friend and leader. Anyway, he used Romans 5:3-4 in his sermon.

In my younger (translation: more naive) days, this verse was a battle cry for me. I would raise my fists in the air and shout, "bring me troubles Lord, I want you to grow me in perserverance, character, and hope". Ahhh, silly me. . .. I wasn't careful about what I asked for. I had no idea what I was signing myself up for. I thought I was invincible (all zeal and no brains). I'm sure God had a hearty chuckle on my behalf over this one.

Fast forward to the present.. .. . "Suffering". ..check. . .. "Perserverance". .. . . well, I'm still here and semi-functioning aren't I?. . ... "Character".. . . I have to admit, much improved from my pre-IF days. . . .Hope. .. .ahhh, hope????. .. . well, I'm not there yet.

That Hope, she's a tricky little bugger. She sneeks in quietly, unannounced, unassuming. She makes you feel that glimmer that maybe things could turn around this time. . .. the worst is behind us attitude. And then, BLAM. . .out of nowhere, you're flat on your back, gasping for air, Hope nowhere to be found. The worst part about Hope is that each time she leaves, she takes a little bit more of you with her. For about a year now, I've been telling people that I can't hope anymore. . . that hope, hurts. I still stand behind this statement.

So what would it take? I think for starters, it would help to see this adoption come into fruition. We've been pursuing a family for so very long now. We've hit so many walls and cried so many tears. I think Gabe could bring a lot of healing and a lot of hope back into our lives. Secondly, it would help to see my mom get better. Not only rising above her current issues, but actually happy again. It would be so amazing to have my mom back.

I would like to think that we can get there. . . .someday. I look forward to that day.

Hope. . .may she come soon. . .for all of us.

On Attachment

When we first signed up with our new agency, we received a required reading list. One of the books on this list is "Attaching in Adoption" by Deborah D. Gray. I've been very slowly reading through the book off and on. I am very interested in the topic and I want to soak up every little piece of information on attachment and bonding that I can, as this is an issue I am very concerned about.

First off, let me just say that while the book is 362 pages long, I think she could have successfully explained all of her points in about 150 pages. The writing is very redundant and I think she repeats the same themes in every chapter regardless of what the chapter is actually attempting to cover. On a good note, she does include a lot of personal stories of children and parents she has worked with during her career. This helps to breath some life into the book. Even my husband, who is also attempting to read the book, thinks it is a bit dry. My husband, who reads philosophy books. . . for fun. Who reads books with titles like, "Discipleship of the Mind" and "The Bondage of the Will". I just look at the titles of these books and my eyes tear out of sheer boredom.

Truthfully, what I am really interested in is as follows:
1. A description of what type of an attachment a 4-9 mth old baby should have
2. What steps can I take to help promote this attachment
3. What signs should I look for if there is an attachment problem

This could be covered in 25 pages, tops. The most interesting part of the book thus far, was the chapter on how to promote attachment for a 6-9 month old child, (in what I understand is Phase II attachment). Since Gabriel will hopefully be coming home at around 4-6 months, this is the most relevant to our situation. As Ms. Gray explains it, Phase II is where babies form exclusive attachments. This makes sense if you think about it because it is around this age that babies usually start to prefer mommy over everyone else. Some of the suggestions are really obvious. . .oh you mean I should carry Gabe and talk to him??? My plan was to drag him across the floor by one arm while pretending he doesn't exist. However, some of the other tips were interesting such as enforcing bottle feeding even if the baby has moved on to a cup. Make an effort to insist on eye contact. She also mentions to stroke the baby's cheeks, palms, and soles of feet. Apparently, they are strong cues for attachment.

As I mentioned before, I have arranged to take six months off from work. I've received opinions from some that they don't understand why I need this much time. I've tried to very nicely explain that we will be removing a baby from the only caregiver he has ever known and moving him to another country, culture etc. with people he doesn't know. Even worse, at a time when he is trying to form exclusive attachments. My heart already breaks for the my little guy. A few days after receiving said opinions I read the following in the book,

"This is the first phase in which good, nurturing caregivings by a series of people will not substitute for one caregiver. This child or baby needs to have a consistent adult with whom to attach. Her caregiver needs to devote at least six months of steady caregiving in order for a child to move through this phase successfully. This is a stage in which the parent can give a child a lifelong gift-the ability to trust and depend on people who merit trust."

I seriously considered copying the page and passing it out to the people who just didn't understand my need to spend some serious uninterrupted time with my son.

If I'm being honest, I have a lot of fears about attaching. What if Gabriel doesn't like me? What if I don't instantly bond with him? What if after all the excitement and waiting, we feel a big let down? I feel bad even asking these questions, but I'm sure I'm not the only one that thinks them. We signed up for a International Waiting Families meeting at our agency regarding attachment. The agency invited an attachment therapist to come in and talk about some issues, suggestions, etc. The meeting is on Tuesday and we are really excited. Plus, I think it will be nice to actually meet some other families like us, in person. I'm sure I will share more on this topic after the meeting.

So where are we now in our adoption?

Its a two-fer today. . . .two blog entries for the price of one (well, its free. . .but. .. er. .. you get the point).

Anyway. ..

I thought I would describe a little where our adoption stands right now and the critical path (such a work phrase, "critical path") until baby Gabriel comes home. As I mentioned before, Gabriel was born on Jan. 17, 2005. We received the referral when he was 5 days old. Unfortunately, our particular lawyer in Guatemala does not send pictures so we will not get to see him until we actually go and visit ourselves. In addition, our lawyer does not really send a lot of updates on where we stand in the process. This is a bit frustrating, but a fair price to pay to work with one of the fastest lawyers available.

The next big hurdle to overcome is the DNA test. This test is to ensure that the woman who released the baby is the actual biological mother. The test is required due to allegations in Guatemala of Americans or lawyers stealing babies. While the test makes it impossible for baby theft to occur, the Guatemalan media perpetuates these rumors. In fact, we were warned by our agency not to take the baby out of the hotel (except to leave for the airport) because we could run into trouble. The DNA testing can take awhile because the lawyer, the birthmother, and the foster mother/baby must all get together at the same time. Once the results come back as a match, we are permitted to make a trip to Guatemala. We will be able to keep Gabriel with us at the hotel for as long as we want. If the test shows that they are not a match, then we lose our referral and we have to start all over. In the meantime, our case can begin in what is called Family Court. I think this is where a social worker is assigned and he/she will complete a report on the birthmother and Gabriel.

After the DNA testing is complete and our case exits Family Court, the US Embassy issues a Visa pre-approval. This can take up to 45 days. At that point, we enter what is called PGN (I have no idea what PGN stands for). In PGN the case is reviewed. I've heard many a horror story about PGN. Many adoption lists talk of being "kicked out" of PGN for really silly document issues and have even heard claims of being "kicked out" for phantom mistakes (for example, claims that a document isn't notarized, which is impossible). I've been told that many of the caseworkers in PGN don't appreciate Americans adopting their children so they can make things difficult.

Once out of PGN, the birthmother signs the final adoption decree and Gabriel legally becomes ours! In addition, a new birth certificate and passport is applied for. The case is then turned back over to the US Embassy and a Visa medical is done.. .. . and THEN. .. .we go and bring him HOME!

Sweet schomeny. . .. that sounds really hard when you type it all out like that.

Spring Hurry Up. . .I'm Dying Over Here!

A little lunch-time blog action comin' atcha. . .yo yo yo. OK, that's enough of that. I'm feeling a little stir crazy right now. Is anyone else sick of the snow and all its barfiness (real mature. . barfiness. .. what am I four?).

I am so sick of snow. I'm sick of the cold. I'm sick of slush and salt covering my car. I'm sick of shoveling and scraping ice off my windshield. I'm sick of being couped up inside my house with all of the windows closed. I'm so tired of wearing boots, mittens, scarves, and hats. I loathe spending 20 minutes trying to get up my driveway because the plow came down our street and mounded a three foot snow mountain at the bottom of my driveway.

I have somewhat of a love/hate relationship with snow. In early December, I LOVE snow. I'm all. ."Lets go outside and frolick in the beautiful wintery white wonderland. Let us make snow angels and sing enchanting little songs and skip arm and arm." (ehem. .. barf!). Come February, the tide has turned and its more like… ."frickin frackin rasha grashin. .. . I hate snow. .. .grrrrrrr".

AND another thing. . ..I'm tired of everyone using a little snow as an excuse not to come to work. I mean, come on people! We live in Michigan. You should be able to brave a few inches of snow by now. If you want to miss work, at least be more creative in your excuse!

What a lovely (if not schizophrenic) mood I am in today!