Starbucks My Love

When I was in nursing school I went to Starbucks probably twice a day. It was my way of relaxing, have a good coffee, and reminding myself that I’m still human. It was my place of Zen. 

I’m not sure what cost more: my books every semester or my Starbucks charges.

Now that school is over I haven’t gone that many times and it makes me sad. It’s almost like having a best friend you love very much, but you’re just too busy to see as much as you used to. Kind of like an old college roomie that you were once inseparable from, but now college is over. 

Today I’ve decide to visit my old friend! I have a star reward and thought it’s time to treat myself. Although now I can’t ask for a Venti with 10 shots as I used to (I’m sure baby wouldn’t appreciate so much caffeine and sugar in one beverage). 

This is where you all come in! What should I spend my star reward on. I’m looking for something that is high value and delicious. Let me know in the comments. 



Donkey Kong Strikes Again

Do you ever have one of those nights when everything feels like it’s falling apart?

After a long night of cleaning up after two sick cats I decided to sit down and play video games. I haven’t played in months, but decided a little fun was in need. I went to set up the game, Donkey Kong, and sat down with the controller in hand waiting for the game to load.

As I tried to go through the menu screen my controller wouldn’t work. I looked down and realized one of the cats had the last laugh that night!

One of my darling babies ate through the cord making my controller dead. Guess they lost control after losing to a Donkey Kong boss? 

What a night! These types of things make me want to cry and laugh all at the same time. Guess sometimes all you can really do is accept the crazy night and know that tomorrows will be better.


Cut The Sh*t Out! 

Sick. Tired. Lazy. Welcome to 5 months pregnant. 

Although I’m not puking everyday anymore (thank you Zofran) I’m still experiencing “morning sickness”. Except now, instead of just laying in bed all day, I try to put some effort into keeping the house clean. By effort, I mean shuffling papers around the house until I’m too tired to stand. It’s not much overall, but in my house I get a gold star for the improvement.

Well, the other night I woke up to head to the bathroom (for the 10th time that night) and I heard my wonderful cat scratching at the carpet. In the midst of the darkness and missing my glasses I couldn’t make out what he was doing. I stepped down to try to shoo him away thinking he was fiddling with electrical cords. As I stepped down a warm senesation covered my foot as if I slipped my foot into a cozy slipper. Yet, the cozy sensation didn’t match the awful stench coming from below me. 

I quickly lifted my foot and hit the light switch. Down below me was a massive pile of poop that resembled the mud pies I used to make on my grandparents farm. As I tried to not puke, I stumbled into the bathroom yelling for my husbands help. I probably sounded like a wounded soldier calling out for reinforcements which my husband wasn’t appeased with as he was in the midst of a REM cycle.

Side note: My husband doesn’t want the animals in our room at night. They tend to like to play while we sleep, shake the doors to get in and out, drink water from our cups, and just cause chaos. I sneak them in when he goes to sleep so that I have a friend to play as insomnia keeps me up. This night I just happened to forget to let them out before I went to sleep. 

Back to the story: My honey woke up and he wasn’t happy. 

1) Because I’m screaming like my foot just got shut off

2) He realizes the animals once again made a mess and now he has to clean it.

As I’m washing my foot like I’m preparing it for surgery, my husband tends to the pile of crap my cat happily left.

I’ll give it to him, he tried his best to clean it, but the smell lingered taunting me to puke. As the smell gnawed at me I decided I had to take action. 

I ran to the bathroom considering my options. Bleach was out of the question because it would just add to the overall fumes already draping over everything in my bedroom. I continued to scan the bathroom and something shiny caught my eye. Scissors. 

Perfect I thought, except I needed something even sharper that would make this process faster, being how I would be sitting less than 12 inches from the site. I ran (don’t let me lie it was actually a very slow walk) downstairs and grabbed a steak knife and climbed my way back up the stairs with the mindset that I was heading into battle.

I slashed, I slayed, I hacked, I did whatever it took to remove the site of indiscretion. 

Something about being pregnant makes me think of the fastest and most efficient way to get a situation done. The fastest shortcut due to my fleeting energy. It may not be the “right way”, but right now my number 1 priority is keeping me and baby safe. Everything else takes a back seat. I think pregnancy is the first step in transitioning ones mind to get ready for motherhood.