Dear 21 year old Self

Linking up today at Jack and Sally!
 
 Dear 21-Year-Old Pippi,
 Calm down, take a deep breath. Seriously. Breathe. You have so many great things ahead of you, but you are forgetting the most important thing of all: to live RIGHT NOW.
 I get it, you've pushed yourself hard and you've come a long way. Nursing school is kicking your butt, but you've only got a year left. Enjoy it. Play a little bit. Make some friends. Really, you're going to miss these days at some point.
 Don't let some of the people around you drag you down. They will try. Oh, and that one roommate? She's a bad idea. She'll spill red kool-aid all over the carpet and never clean it up. She'll disappear for weeks at a time, and she'll never fully pay her share of the rent or utilities. You'll spend a great deal of time cleaning up after her.
 I know, you really want to get married. Wait. Don't be so worried about it. Just have some fun, play, make friends. You're so focused on what the future holds for you that you aren't living right now. And you look desperate. Really, you do. Delete all of your online dating profiles. The guys you're meeting are sleazy. And, again, none of them are right for you. There is someone out there for you, and you will meet him soon. I promise.
 Anyway, you know how you've been tossing around the idea of travel nursing? You should look into it more seriously. Don't be in such a hurry to be an adult. Enjoy your life a little bit. You'll have plenty of responsibilities soon enough. Trust me, in just over a year you will buy a condo, meet the love of your life, and begin a whirlwind of adventure.
But back to travel nursing: do it. Someday, when you're staring 30 in the face, pregnant with your second child, and have worked for the same company for 9 years you'll wish you'd taken more adventures. Plus, how great will it look on your resume?
 Also, a few more words of advice:
~Don't eat so much garbage. Cooking at home is cheaper than eating out, and the 50 (yes 50) pounds you put on during college show. Don't fool yourself into thinking otherwise.
~Call your sister. She only lives 40 minutes away, you should really spend more time with her.
~When you graduate next year apply right away for the BSN program. You can still move back to Salt Lake and finish, it's all done online.
 ~The sarcasm? It's not funny, it's mean. It's off-putting. Just be yourself, if people don't like you for who you are that's their loss. You are pretty awesome.
 That about sums it up for now. Just trust me on knowing that your life hasn't even started, and it's far from over. You have so much living left to do, so get out there and do it!!
Love,
28-Year-Old Pippi

To Sleep, or Not to Sleep? Definitely been not to sleep.

Oh the joys of being a parent. I love my crazy little family, probably more than words can express. We have our battles (any parent of a 2-year-old does), but for the most part life is good. We giggle, we love Mickey Mouse, we play the tickle-bug game, we hold hands, we read stories, and we generally get along.

Make no mistake, however, life in the Gorgeous Borges house isn't all sunshine and roses. Let me tell you a little story about how our world has turned into a bit of a nightmare of late. This story is otherwise known as "The Time that Mommy was a Big Chicken and it Ended up Biting her in the Butt. Bigtime." Let me begin:

Once upon a time a young couple decided to have a baby. This baby decided that from the day he was born, he was going to love sucking on a binky. In fact, for much of the first year of his life, it was rare to see him without it. And let's be honest, shall we? Babies with binkies are cute (and quiet). Anyway, this sweet little round-cheeked lad had a mommy and a daddy that thought they knew it all. They just knew that after his first birthday that little binky was going away. And then that sweet little monkey-boy turned 1. There was a little party with much cake-smashing. It was adorable, trust me. But that sweet little monkey-boy's mommy was a big fat pushover, and his daddy was the ultimate softy. On the night of his first birthday, that little boy went to bed contentedly sucking away at his binky. So, the mommy and the daddy decided that for a little while he could keep it for awhile, but only when he was in his bed.
After about six months the mommy and the daddy decided it was time to (finally) grow a pair and take the binky away. So, one night they put the monkey-boy down without it. And he screamed, and he cried, and he wept and wailed and gnashed his teeth. It was not a pretty sight. So the mommy gave in and gave it back. And life was good. Everyone was sleeping, everyone was quiet, everyone was happy.
More time went on and the little boy turned 2. The mommy and the daddy decided it was time, once again, to try and take away the then-dubbed "bee-bee". It was a catastrophe. Mommy was a chicken and gave it back. And then finally, after much debate, it was decided that the bee-bee would go away forever in exchange for a Woody and Buzz doll. Everyone, including the monkey-boy, was agreeable to this plan... Until the dreadful day arrived. The bee-bee went away. The mommy cut it up so she wouldn't be tempted to give it back. She showed the cut-up bee-bee to the child and into the trash it went.

And here we are, kids, nearly a full month later.  T-Bone is STILL crying himself to sleep pretty much every night. He's STILL waking up in the middle of the night and crying for Mommy and Daddy. He hasn't asked for the binky in 3 weeks, but he's still being a damned stubborn little man about the whole thing. So, if I seem a little off, it's from lack of sleep. And if I don't hear something you say it's because my ears are still ringing from all the screams. And if I seem a little reluctant to leave the monkey-boy with someone else while Greasemonkey and I go out of town, it's for the sake of the caregiver's sanity.

So, please, I beg of you... pray for the sleep of my child, because this mommy is slowly turning into a zombie.

Updated to add: After 1 month of this nightmare we finally figured out the trick. He just wanted to be tucked in under his dinosaur blankie. If only he'd shared that info with me a month ago...

Raindrops on Roses

It's been awhile since I've blogged, but other than a nasty bout of probably bronchitis, there's not much going on here.  We're all muddling our way through the Terrible Two's, sleep training (yet again), and a wicked cold springtime.

Anyway, it's been an even longer while since I've shared a few of my favorite things.  This is by no means a comprehensive list, because there are a lot of things I like, but it does scratch the surface a bit.

First up is coconut oil.  Seriously, this is possibly the best thing I've ever found. Ever.  I use it for cooking. I use it for making my own beauty products. I use it for my hair. I use it for cleaning.  I even used it to condition the wood on my antique dining room table. This stuff is incredible.












Anyone who knows me knows that I don't particularly like scary movies/books/stories, and yet I couldn't put either of these down. These are modern day ghost stories set in the Great Lakes region. Not only were they ghost stories, but I loved the mystery aspect of it all.  Very creepy, very Gothic, and totally addicting.  Seriously, I stayed up late into the night multiple times in an attempt to finish them. 

Okay, time to get down and dirty, nitty gritty, and totally honest. I almost never wear makeup. Usually it's just to church on Sundays, unless there's some other sort of special occasion happening.  I just can't really be bothered to take the extra time to put makeup on.  Yeah, I'm lazy. I'm over it.  However, even though I rarely wear it, I LOVE it. Really, I do. I have a rather extensive collection of different brands, colors, types, etc. Until recently, I was never much of a lipstick wearer.  I had my red that came out on super special occasions. I had maybe one other berry-ish shade that I'd get out... sometimes. And then I discovered nude lipstick.  I'm in love. For whatever reason I love the look of a nude lip. My favorite is Sephora brand cream lipstick #3 Tenderness. I layer it over a nude lipliner and my lips look fantastic all day.  I still only wear it once a week but, dang, my lips look good!

With Baby Boy #2 (also affectionately known as Bean) due out late this summer, I have been on a frantic name search. I'm on the hunt for the perfect sib-set. It has to sound good with our last name. I'd love it if it had some sort of family meaning. My list of names I love grows longer everyday. Most of them, Greasemonkey doesn't agree with. Anyway, my new favorite website is Nameberry.  Incredible.  If you're trying to name a child (or even a pet) I highly recommend checking it out. Trust me on this one.

And there you have it. A small installment of a Few of my Favorite Things.

20 week progress

 

Tales from the ultrasound

This is all going to be a bit anecdotal from my midwife-visit-slash-ultrasound today, so feel free to quit reading at any point.

One of the things I love most about seeing the midwives is that I'm not tied to one practitioner. I just see whoever happens to be in office that particular day and time. This visit I saw DeeDee, a midwife who I hadn't met yet. We were having a rather frank conversation about my weight, gain to that point etc. Mainly, I hadn't gained any weight (not an ounce) since my last visit 4 weeks ago. In someone who weighs 110 pounds, that would have been a concern, but since I started out overweight it wasn't a huge deal for me (Just fyi, at 20 weeks my weight gain to this point has been just over 10 pounds).  DeeDee started into her spiel about nutrition, proper eating to help Bean grow, etc, then stopped herself. "How much did your last baby weigh?" she asked.
"Nine pounds nine ounces."
"Oh, ok. So pretty much this baby is going to gain enough weight whether you want it to or not, eh? By the way, I see you had your last one vaginally.  Has anyone given you props for that? Seriously, your first baby, he's over 9 pounds, you're pretty awesome."

Anyway, the rest of the appointment was pretty much business as usual. Then it was onto my ultrasound.  They jellied up my belly and got to work. After taking measurements, checking out Beans general well-being,  and making sure my placenta was in a good place, the tech asked if we wanted to know what we were having. I assured her that we definitely did, I don't do surprises. Well, go figure, the baby didn't want to cooperate. After some belly-shaking, and trying to get it to move to a better position she said, "And, there's his penis.  It's a boy!"  She finished up what she needed to do and sent the doctor in. He double-checked to make sure we knew what we were having before he slipped up and told us differently.  I said, "We were told it's a boy."
His response was, "You didn't see it?  I'm pretty sure I was able to see that from the next room!"

So, there you have it: Baby Boy #2 will be joining the Borges family in late August/early September.

Progress

So, my last blog dropped an announcement on y'all.  I guess I should share a little progress.  Also, please ignore my awful, dead-animal hair.  I'm in the process of growing out my pixie to donate my hair and it's in the awkward mullet-y stage right now.  Anyway, a few pics of the progress:

8 Weeks 1/17

12 Weeks 2/14

16 Weeks 3/14

Cravings: Cadbury Mini-eggs, Tater tots, Cafe Rio pork

Milestones: Baby Bean is a mover and a shaker.  I feel her/him rolling around in there all the time, especially if I've just eaten something sweet.

Total weight gain: 6 pounds.  Not too shabby

I'm looking forward to: feeling Bean kick from the outside, scheduling an ultrasound, being done with my early glucose test.

Ahem

I have a few pictures I'd like to share with you all:

                      

And just in case you didn't get it: