Friday, February 27, 2015

Stuff & Things

Because I know you're all wondering what could possibly be more important than oversharing poop stories on the world's most neglected blog - here's a long ass list of all the really interesting stuff and things we've been doing for the last 3+ months of life (that may or may not have taken me 3 weeks to actually finish).


Selling Our House
We decided that the 950 square feet space we had been living in for just about our whole marriage was getting a little cramped - especially now that we had acquired a tiny human and all his tiny human accessories that seemed to multiply at an alarming rate.  (And by 'we decided' I mean I had pretty consistent "we don't have enough room" tantrums to Shawn and eventually got my way.)  We put our house on the market back in November.  I was a little worried about putting it on the market then, because that's when the market seems to go to crap selling-wise.  (Because all the upcoming holidays, yadda yadda yadda.)  It didn't end up staying on the market for too long.  We got two full-price offers about 3-4ish weeks after we listed it.  Once the house was under contract, it was a relief to not have to constantly keep my house in pristine condition - you know, for the fun people who liked to give us 20 minutes notice that they were coming over.  I mean, don't get me wrong, it was nice to have my house almost always clean.  I just didn't like being the one to keep it that way.  Not when I could be taking naps, anyways.

The inspection went fine, but the appraisal came in low (partly due to the fact that the appraiser was a huge dumbass) - and for a minute we were worried that the whole sale was going to fall through and we were going to have to start from square one. That thought was only kind of soul-crushing.  Luckily, between getting the appraisal increased, agents dropping their commissions, and a few other things - we were able to make it work and walk away with almost what we originally had planned to take away from the deal.  The people that bought the house kept my brother and sister in law in the basement as renters - so it seemed to work out for everyone.

It's always a strange feeling to leave your house and know that you're never going to live there again. Especially when you haven't even bought another house yet.  Which brings us to our next segment:


Living With the Inlaws
Shawn's parents were nice enough to let us come live in their basement until we found a house of our own.  You always hear horror stories of "living with the inlaws", but I'm happy to report that it really hasn't been that bad.  And I promise I'm not just saying that because my mother-in-law reads my blog. (Hi, Carolyn!)  We have almost double the space in their basement than we did in our house.  Between that, getting free meals, free rent, in-house babysitters, and having people to share our over-abundance of leftovers with - it's been pretty nice.  (Because when no one else eats our leftovers, my thighs and ass do.  Particularly when it's a pan of brownies.  Or donuts.  Or cookies.)  

When we moved in, there was just one bedroom and no bathroom in the basement.  We put Eli in the bedroom, and put our mattress (that I'm almost positive we're never going to be able to get back up the stairs again) in the living room.  So it was just basically a giant living room, with a small sink area and then our enormous mattress.  Before we moved in, they had decided to convert a storage room in the basement into a bathroom.  It wasn't roughed in at all - so we've been living in a bit of a construction zone for the last month as Shawn, his dad, and brother have turned the storage room into the bathroom and have built a wall in the middle of the living room to create a bedroom where our mattress is.  

Between having a bout of some seriously concerning diarrhea and then a UTI, I can definitely appreciate how nice it is to finally have a toilet on the same floor we live on - instead of having to haul serious tail up two flights of stairs to make it to a toilet before unspeakable things happen.  And the wall that gives our bed some privacy?  It definitely soothes the PTSD episodes I was having every time Shawn wants to get frisky.  (Which is always.)  PTSD?  What?  That's weird, Chelsea.  As you might recall, Shawn and I dated in high school.  And we would "watch movies" down in the basement, where we now live.  I have vivid memories of Shawn's mom's head peeking around the corner to catch us not watching movies, and I'm not sure I'm able to adequately describe just how awkward and horrifying it was as a teenager.  (That said, I'd be lying if I said I'm not totally excited to make Eli and his future special friends feel just as awkward.  Because, FUN!)  So, now instead of having a looming feeling that my mother-in-law will peek around a corner and see me boinking her son and then telling me it's time to go home - we have nice, solid wall to protect the innocent from any traumatic, celibacy-inducing incidents.  Because no one needs that.  No one.  


Watching All the TV
I have a major love/hate relationship with Netflix and Hulu.  I'm a marathon watcher of shows.  I don't just watch an episode here or there, or when I "have time".  (If my Netflix/Hulu history is any indication, I always have time.)  If I start a show, I finish the entire series in damn near record timing.  I'm intimately familiar with the judgy "Are you still watching?" message from Netflix.  Same drill: Pause, have a moment of self-loathing, then hit 'Continue Watching'.  I'm currently watching The Good Wife - in addition to keeping up on an embarrassing amount of other shows.  Before that it was Nashville.  Before that it was Fringe.  And so on.  I was telling Shawn that I could make a pretty impressive list of TV shows that I've completed or have caught up on in my lifetime.  And by impressive, I mean sad. Very, very sad.


Buying a House
When we were looking for a house to buy, it was less about finding something we loved in a great location - and more about finding something that we could make a good chunk of equity on.  We figure, at this point in our lives, before Eli is actually in school, we can move around a little bit to try and make some money for a good down payment on a house we really do love in great location.  At one point we had considered building a new home, but decided that was something we'd want to do if we were planning to stay there for a while.  As a result, we ended up looking at a lot of short sales and foreclosure-type homes, since those tend to usually have the most equity built into them.  That's not to say I wouldn't have loved to have a house I loved in a great location, but it wasn't a huge priority, since we probably wouldn't end up staying there very long.  There were some more ghetto locations that we planned to stay away from and some North/South/West/East boundaries we wouldn't go past - but other than that, if it was a good deal, we were game.  

Several of the houses we went through had been smoked in - and while that may be some people's cup of tea, it was an instant deal-killer for me.  And there were some pretty good houses that we may have gone for had they not been totally tainted by the smell of smoke.  We went to one house, and it turned out to be a meth house with colonies of black mold growing out of the walls.  I walked into that house for maybe 30 seconds and immediately walked back out because I was instantly sick to my stomach.  It's truly amazing that some people live in the conditions that they do.  Yeesh.  We had offers on several short sales - because, eh.  I think we all know how short those aren't.

Shawn and his dad/brother will flip houses occasionally, when they aren't busy roofing - and they get a lot of them from an investor who picks them up at foreclosure auctions at the courthouse.  So we had kept our eye on houses that were going to auction as well. Unfortunately, any houses that we were interested in would cancel before actually being auctioned off.  Then one day the investor called Shawn and told him that they had picked up a house in South Jordan, and that if we wanted to go see it, we had to go right then.  There was still a woman (who was the original owner) and her 32 year old daughter living there, so we knocked and had to ask if she'd let us walk through - which was totally awkward.  Like, "Hi, we know you just lost your house, CAN WE SEE?!"  

The investor had warned us that they had a bit of a hoarding problem - but when the woman couldn't even open the door all the way to let us in, we realized just how much stuff they had.  Seriously.  So. Much. Stuff.  Now, if any of you have seen the show 'Hoarders', you'll know how extreme these hoarders can be - and this wasn't nearly that extreme.  No dead animals in closets or that kind of thing.  The house was actually in surprisingly good condition.  The carpets and tile had been replaced within the last few years, and it had been repainted recently as well.  There was just stuff everywhere.    All the piles and piles of stuff aside, it was actually a great house.  We figured it would just need a good, deep clean before we moved in - and just a few basic updates throughout.  New kitchen appliances, granite countertops, a better colored-roof, that kind of thing - nothing super drastic.  (Well, except for maybe the roof.  But, I know a guy.  ;)) 

We felt really good about it as we walked through.  Which is weird, because I don't know if I've mentioned how much stuff there was.  It's amazing that we were even able to see past it.  But I hadn't felt that good about any of the other houses we had walked through.  And maybe it was because the house was enormous.  Or because it had a massive jetted tub.  Or because it had a huge master walk-in closet.  Or because it was actually in a decent location, instead of clear out West in butt freaking Egypt.  We ultimately decided that because the house didn't need a crap load of work, and for what we could potentially make off selling it without even putting any work into it - it would be a great buy.

With these types of deals, it's usually on a first-come-first-served basis with buying the house from the investor.  So we only had a few hours to crunch some numbers and decide if this was really the house we wanted.  After talking it over, we still felt really good about it - so we called the investor and, well, bought a house.

Just as a sneak peek, here's pretty much the only picture I have of it so far - and even at that, it's a "street view" screenshot off of Google Maps.  You can't really see much of it because HOLY TREES, BATMAN.  But, eh.  You'll get more pictures later, promise.



Still Living With the Inlaws
Wait, you bought a house but still live with your inlaws?  Correct.  We legally own a house and aren't living in it.  Remember how I said there was a lot of stuff in the house?  Yeah.  When we bought the house at the end of January, we gave the mom and her daughter until March 1st to move out (when legally, we could have given them MUCH less time).  We even went so far as to offer to help them move their stuff into a storage unit.  We've gone over there and helped make a pretty good dent in things.  We provided a trailer for them to throw all their garbage in.  We took it to the dump.  We've brought over boxes.  We've packed so. many. boxes.  We've thrown away so much stuff.  The ward members and most people we talk to are floored that we're involved with helping at all - because I can't imagine that it's really the norm.  Originally, we felt empathetic towards this woman and her daughter, and realized it was a crappy situation to lose a house that they've lived in for 20+ years - so we were willing to help ease the burden of moving as much as we could.

Well, long story short: Getting them out is turning into somewhat of a giant nightmare.  Due to a variety of health problems they've both had and other factors - they're still not even close to being out of the house.  We served them with a notice that essentially let them know if they're not out by March 1st, we have a lawyer and will be filing for an eviction with the court.  If they don't cooperate, it could go as far as the sheriff needing to escort one or both of them out of the house.  We would really love for them to cooperate and be out by the end of the month, so we don't even have to go there.  We totally get that it's a sucky situation for them, which is why we've tried to help as much as we have.  But at the same time, it's our house - that we're already paying a mortgage on - and, understandably, we want them out of it.  So, there's that.

(Note: So, I wrote this last part a few weeks ago - and I'm happy to report that, with a TON of help from several members of our new ward, it's looking like they (and most their stuff) WILL be out by Saturday.  HA.LLE.LU!)


Not Being Productive.  At All.
I have an inner battle with myself every time Eli is taking a nap.  It essentially boils down to deciding whether or not to be productive.  Do I work out - or take a nap?  Do I clean the house - or watch Netflix?  Do I take a shower - or sit on my ass and do absolutely nothing.  If and when I do finally decide to do something productive, Eli usually wakes up pretty much immediately after I've made my decision, pretty much voiding any good intentions I may have had to not veg.  I don't know why I have such a hard time getting stuff done when I don't have a baby eating up all my attention.  Probably because not having a baby eating up all my attention is sometimes an extremely welcomed break.  And of course I love Eli and love spending time with him.  But it's definitely nice to just have me time.  A lot of me time.  But of course when I'm not having me time, I'm...    


Keeping a Child Alive & Happy
Being a mother is the most rewarding things I've ever done in my life.  It's also the most exhausting.  Even when I have the best kid ever.  He has such a good temperament - and is pretty much always in a happy, chilled out mood.  People are always commenting on how impressed they are that he'll just hang out without being fussy.  Unless he's tired or hungry.  Then shit gets real very quickly.  I can't imagine who he got that from.  Cough.  

There is so much to tell about this kid.  I mean, if I can write full blown posts of his pooping and sleeping habits - you can only imagine how I could just go on and on about how much this kid rocks our world.  Oh, and pictures.  So. Many. Pictures.  However, because I've probably already lost half of you by now, I'll do my best to keep it short and sweet.  But I make no promises.

-He's finally sleeping through the night again.  (I say 'again', because he randomly goes through phases where he'll sleep 11 or 12 hours at night - and then others where he wakes up at 2 or 3 in the morning for who knows what reasons.)  And even though not having to wake up at 3 in the morning is glorious, 7am always seems to come way too early.  (Sidenote: It may come as no surprise that the literal night that I wrote this paragraph, he decided to wake up screaming at 1 in the morning.  And then woke up for good at 6.)


-We haven't found anything that he absolutely refuses to eat.  Can't say I'm too surprised.  Dude  loves food.  He'll eat pretty much anything.  Like, anything.  We can't even give him pieces of paper without him taking bites of (and swallowing)  it.  We were feeding him baby food for a while, but he's an independent little man, and prefers to feed himself.  We still keep jars on hand, just in case - but if he's not in the right mood, he'll swat the spoon when you're trying to feed him and it's just a hot damn mess.  Even though he's not picky about foods, recently, he's picked up this semi-infuriating spit-everything-out-that-goes-into-his-mouth habit.  Sometimes he spits it out, inspects it, then puts it back in his mouth.  Or he'll spit it out and offer it to one of us.  Or he spits it out and wipes it everywhere.  And when he's not spitting out food, he's throwing it off his high chair - or doing the windshield wiper move on his tray to clear it off.  Needless to say, Toby is always sitting next to his high chair.  And when Toby doesn't seem to get enough of Eli's food: 


Mother. Fluffing. Dog.  Curse words.

-Eli's still in the 95th percentile for both his height and weight.  At his 9-month appointment (which, really, was closer to 10 months), he was almost 26 pounds and 30.5 inches tall.  He's definitely starting to slim down as he gets taller, which makes me a little sad because I adore his rolls. He's still got some chub though, so it's okay.



Oh, and the laundry basket pictures?  It's probably a good thing I only have two stickers left - because, well:


Don't think for one second that doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing it once he turns 1.

-He isn't quite actual crawling yet.  But he's definitely mastered the army crawl.  Before that, he'd pretty much just roll everywhere he needed to get.  It was pretty amusing.  The day that he started figuring out the army crawl, I had to tempt him with food to get him to keep going.  You can imagine how much he loved that.


And there's about 28 more videos where that came from.  I'll spare you - for now, anyways.  For only being able to army crawl, homeboy is quick.  His favorite things are power outlets, cords, and pretty much anything that could hurt him.  He knows we don't like him touching cords and outlets - so if he ever sees one, he'll start crawling toward it really fast then stop, look back at us, laugh, then keep crawling.  It's far too adorable to get mad about.



 -This is his (and our) favorite George-Costanza-esque pose:



-He's pretty hilarious with our animals.  He thinks Bob is the funniest thing ever.  Bob still keeps a pretty fair distance from him.  That doesn't stop Eli from chasing him.  When Toby isn't busy eating all Eli's toys, he'll just lay there while Eli pulls all his hair and hits him.  I keep waiting for the inevitable I'VE HAD ENOUGH snap from Toby.  But it never comes.  So, even though I may think he's a giant asshole dog - at least he's good with my kid.  We're trying to teach Eli the art of being "soft" - but he still thinks the alternative is way more fun.





-His hair is getting longer.  Part of me wants to trim it a little, because the hair growing over his ears drives me nuts.  But the other part of me can't bear to cut my baby's hair.  Currently, the latter part of me is winning.  There's a fine line between little boys with long hair looking totally adorable, and looking like orphan children - so we'll definitely have to keep that in check.


-He loves to dance.  Loves.  If music ever comes on, he pretty much immediately is bouncing to the beat.  Especially if it's his fox that sings "What Does The Fox Say?".  That sucker is magical.  If he's ever being fussy, we just have to show him that and he's totally fine.



Then there's the Mother Goose Club on YouTube.  Heaven help me.  They're these  70+ minute long videos of the most obnoxious nursery rhymes-type songs on planet Earth.  Sometimes I'll just have it playing in the background while we play on the floor - and as a result, I constantly have the most insufferable songs stuck in my head.  But of course Eli loves it.  And when we get in a crunch and Shawn isn't home to watch Eli when I'm working - it makes for a pretty for a barely tolerable baby sitter.  Parent points.

-Also, just in case you weren't sure if Eli is actually Shawn's kid:

(Shawn's the one on the far right, obvi.)

Crazy, right?  I decided that if Shawn and my dad had a baby - you'd pretty much get Eli.  Which is a weird way to think about it.  But, seriously.

-He went through the most hilarious phase of having the most random, funny laugh ever.  It was like a polite, social laugh.  If everyone else was laughing, he'd do the polite laugh.  That, or when we were about to give him food.  Sometimes it almost sounded evil.  But in an adorable way, of course.




-He definitely loves to talk.  He'll say "mamamama" and "dadadada".  The other day he started saying "ouch".  I can't imagine that it reflects all that well on us that he's saying ouch.  (Let's be honest, he probably has no idea what he's saying - so let's hold off on calling DCFS, eh?)



So much for keeping the Eli section short and sweet.  If you knew how much I really could have said - you'd realize how short and sweet it really is.


Trying to Become a Real Estate Agent
I think I briefly mentioned in another blog post that I had started my real estate classes back up.  I enrolled back in 2011, and didn't actually end up finishing them.  Womp womp.  I decided to re-enroll for the classes last year - so the $600 some odd dollars I had spent on "tuition" wasn't money down the drain.  I can take all the classes online, which is nice.  They are just so. damn. boring.  Not to mention fairly time-consuming.  But hopefully I'll be able to bring myself to actually finish them.  Originally, the plan was to get my license so I could sell the houses Shawn flips with his dad and brother when they're not busy roofing.  That's still the plan, in theory.  I don't imagine I'd be taking real estate on full time - but it'd be nice to have as a backup, at the very least.


Gaining All The Weight
I was doing pretty good at sticking to this PiYo/P90X3 workout calendar I had for a while.  Then we moved to Shawn's parent's basement.  What?  That's not a good excuse for being a fat ass, Chels.  Yeah, I know.  I keep meaning to jump back on the bandwagon, before I'm the chick they have to pull out of bed with a crane.  But, like I mentioned earlier, with Shawn and his dad/brother working on roughing in the bathroom in the basement, our living space has pretty much been a construction zone for the last two months.  The amount of dust that has constantly been floating in the air and covering every surface in our place has been unreal.  I could barely breathe just walking around - and I'm certain that had I done just 5 jumping jacks, I would have had an asthma attack and died.  And if that weren't reason enough, I can't say that I'm at my finest when I'm hopping all over the damn room while simultaneously trying not to totally pee my pants.  And the last thing I needed was to have an audience of family members watching all the straining, heavy breathing, sweating, grunting, and air humping that was going on.  There's a reason I prefer at-home workouts to going to the gym: because the only people watching are you and Jesus.  The good news is that with all the space in our new house - I think we're going to try and dedicate one of the rooms as a work-out room and have all our equipment and a TV in there.  Because FANCY.


Trying to Make Another Baby (!?!)
So, you may or may not remember (from Facebook and Instagram) that Shawn and I won a $5,000 fertility grant at a 5k race for infertility that we did last year.  The first year this foundation did the 5k, we were still trying to get pregnant, and got a team of about 25 or so people to try and win a free IVF cycle (because you got an extra entry for every person on your team) - and we didn't end up winning anything that year.  (Well, unless you count Shawn winning the actual race.  Because that happened.)  So, this last year, we decided that we'd participate again, not necessarily to try and win a free cycle or a grant, but because it's a cause that we whole-heartedly support and wanted to be part of.  Whether we won or not, the money we paid to participate would go to a couple trying to make a baby - and that was worth every penny.  That said, we figured it couldn't hurt to throw our names in the lot at a chance to win a free IVF cycle or a grant.  We had a grand total of four tickets in the raffle for a free cycle or grant.  Four.  There were several teams that had upwards of 80 and 90 people on them, making the chance that they pulled our name out of the massive sea of other names extremely slim.  To say that we were completely floored when they called out "Team Milne" would be the understatement of the year.  After screaming and scaring the living daylights out of Eli, Shawn and I were both instantly in tears.


One of the stipulations of the grant money, is that it needed to be used within the next year.  So, that gave us until the end of August (of this year) to use it.  You may remember that we still have 2 frozen embryos from the cycle we got Eli from - and this grant money would more than cover the cost of doing a frozen embryo transfer (FET).  Of course, obviously there's no certainty with an FET.  They don't actually "thaw" the embryos until the day of transfer, which is after weeks of birth control and a month of progesterone/estrogen shots - and unfortunately, embryos don't always survive the thaw.  So, I could potentially prepare with medications for a month and a half, only to not have any embryos to transfer.  Or it's possibly that one or both of the embryos do survive, but may not end up actually implanting.  Either of those scenarios would obviously be pretty devastating.  

So, knowing that the FET could possibly fail - we decided that we wanted to try doing it earlier in the year, so if (heaven forbid) the embryos didn't make it - we'd still have enough time to possibly use the money for another fresh IVF cycle, if we decided that's what we wanted to do.  I had a consultation with my fertility doctor back at the beginning of January, and while it was so awesome to be able to finally introduce her to the baby she helped us make - it was also a super weird feeling to be back there talking about making another baby.  We talked about the timeline of how the FET process would go down - and fortunately, it's not nearly as intense as the fresh cycle we did with Eli.  But before I could start any medications, she said I needed to completely wean Eli from nursing (because the drugs would go to Eli via breastmilk, yadda yadda yadda) which I was not looking forward to doing.  And that brings us to our next bullet:


Weaning Eli
When some women talk about how sad it is to stop breastfeeding, they are not lying.  Before the fertility grant came into play, I had always figured that I'd just let Eli self-wean for the most part.  I never planned to make him wean unless he was a little bit older and hadn't already.  I decided to take the process pretty slowly, so neither of us (or my boobs) were completely traumatized for life when all was said and done.  I started dropping off one feeding at a time, waited a few weeks, then dropped another one until we were just down to his last feeding, the one right before he went to sleep for the night.  He's always liked solid foods so much, that he didn't seem too phased by the lack of mama juice.  Luckily, he learned to fall asleep on his own, without being nursed first, pretty quickly.

Once I got to only breastfeeding him once a day, I started to dread dropping that feeding.  You always hear that babies need to be breastfed or have formula up until they're a year old - and because Eli absolutely refused to take a bottle for pretty much his entire life, I was super worried about him getting all the nutrients he needed.  I had tried giving him formula with a bottle - and he just wouldn't.  He'd take about 3 gulps and be done.  He was not a fan.  (Which was probably the first thing I've ever tried feeding him that he hasn't liked.)  At his 10 month appointment, I told his pediatrician about the FET and needing to wean Eli, and asked how soon I'd be able to start him on whole milk - and his pediatrician told me that it was completely okay for me to start him on it that day.  It was so relieving to know I didn't have to worry about getting him to take formula or a bottle and that I could just skip to whole milk in a sippy cup.

Fortunately we were able to find a sippy cup that Eli isn't a huge spaz about - and turns out he totally likes whole milk.  He wouldn't (and still won't) drink a whole ton at one time - but he'll drink it throughout the day, and that's enough for me.  We figured out that he liked it a little better when we'd nuke it in the microwave for a little bit.  And then he just drinks it from there.  Nothin' like some nice, room temperature, whole milk.


So, since they wanted Eli to be completely weaned by the end of next week, I decided this last Monday that it would be the last day I nursed Eli - so we could gauge how he'd react, and if it was bad, we'd just push back the FET a few weeks.  Prior to Monday, I had been pulling Eli off my boob at around 5 or 6 minutes - just so he'd kind of get used to not being able to completely nurse himself to sleep.  Monday rolled around, and I planned to let him nurse to his heart's content - so of course at around minute 7, he pulls off and I totally lost it.  I tried not to go into full meltdown status as I tried to offer it to him again to see if he wanted any more - and he didn't.  It was so. so. so. sad.  I spent the next hour bawling my face off, because I knew I wouldn't get to nurse him ever again.  And because I was going to miss being able to provide the one thing that would, without fail, always comfort him.  And because I was going to miss the giggle he'd give me every single time Shawn brought him to me to nurse before bed, because he knew what was coming next.  And because I felt (and still feel, to an extent) colossal amount of guilt for weaning him - especially if the FET wasn't going to be successful.

Luckily, completely weaning Eli seems to be much less traumatizing for him than it is for me.  He still sleeps through the night and doesn't seem hardly phased at all.  I had Shawn lay him down the first night, because I figured Eli would be pretty ticked if it was me laying him down for the night without nursing him first.  He fell asleep within minutes.  The next night I thought I'd try, to see what happened - and he cried for 15 minutes before he fell asleep - and I totally sobbed right along with him outside his door.  The next night Shawn laid him down - and he was asleep within a few minutes again.  So, we're thinking Shawn may need to be the one to lay him down for the next little while, until he gets used to no more boob action.  Oh, and on the plus side - my boobs aren't nearly as engorged as I thought they'd be. Whew.

I feel extremely blessed to have been able to breastfeed Eli for as long as I did.  Being the main source of nourishment and comfort for my baby has been so incredibly fulfilling, in so many ways.  I just have to keep telling myself that my intentions behind weaning him are pure.  Because if I don't keep that in mind, I'll just have guilt-consuming meltdowns every time Eli cries and I can't nurse him.    And maybe this is just me having a flair for the dramatic.  But I don't care.  It's sad, dammit.



And although that's a totally depressing note to leave things on - if I wait any longer to hit Publish, I probably never will.


Peace and blessings, Internet.