A little ranty rant about post-pregnancy chub. Feel free to tell me to simmer down now.

I should be working out right now.

That phrase is pounding in my head any time I find myself with a minute to spare. Right now the kids are both taking a nap and this hour and a half of pure silence and bliss is pretty much the only opportunity I have to do whateva I wawnt. Do I take a nap? Mop the floor? Write a blog post? Well, if you could see the bags under my eyes and the state of my kitchen floor, you’d get a pretty good idea of which things I’ve been neglecting. You already know this blog hasn’t been feeling the love lately. I’m sorry, blog. You’re my redheaded step child. The thing I usually choose to do during this time is exercise.

Remember how I told you about the postpartum depression thing and how it made me all weird and zombie-mode and like, skinny? Good news! I don’t have that problem this time! I’m not skinny at all! Don’t get me wrong here, I’ve actually been feeling quite amazing the past few weeks and I’m so thankful I’m not going through that awfulness again. It’s been a completely different deal this time. The best word I can use to describe it is relaxed. The same drama is here again, but I just haven’t let it bother me. So yes, I’m enjoying every minute with this little guy and his sweet big sister and I wouldn’t change a thing about my life right now.

EXCEPT!

I have some excess chub. Okay, a lot of excess chub. I’m making an effort to be positive and kind to myself (hug a tree and sing Kumbaya with me) by not using the F word even though that’s how I really feel. For some reason I had it in my head that eating nachos every day of my pregnancy wouldn’t do my body any harm because, ‘Eh. It’s only 50 pounds. I lost that in 3 months before! Neener.”  Umm. Someone hand me my brass knuckles so I can punch skinny me in the head.

I clearly fell into the trap of eating poorly during the last year and am having a harder time getting rid of the extra pounds than I’d like. I know I sound crazy because it’s been 5 weeks since I had Jack. I KNOW. I’m eating healthy, exercising daily, drinking a crap ton of water and still. Nothing’s happeniiiiiiing.

Being relaxed and content is a very fine trade for PPD and I wouldn’t go back there if you gave me all the cute shoes in the world. It’s just a little discouraging, that’s all.

(My chubby ankles wouldn’t look good in those shoes anyway.)

(KIDDING.)

 

Baby #2 – Thirty Eight Weeks

I had to move locations of the bathroom photo shoots to MY ghetto apartment bathroom this week. At least the crazy nesting I’ve been doing has kept it pretty spotless!

Okay yeah, so nesting. Cleaning. Organizing. Whatever you want to call it… I haz it. I’ve done so much sweeping and dusting and scrubbing of walls the past few weeks that I would honestly have no problem licking pretty much any given surface in my home. I won’t, because eww, OBVIOUSLY, but you get what I’m saying.

Things are pretty much ready for this little guy and I have this painful feeling in my uterus that he could be making his grand appearance pretty soon.  :D :D :D

Baby #2 – Thirty Six Weeks

9 months pregnant!

Well, what you see above is the last bathroom photo shoot picture EVER because today was my last day! It was a bit sad because I love my bosses so much and have really been blessed at that job, but now I can finally say I am a stay at home mom! *Irish jig*

Want to know how my first official afternoon at home with Maddie went? I ate chips and then slept for like, 3 hours. Needless to say, we’ll be working on some things. :)

By the way, I was so blown away by all the incredibly sweet feedback on this post from a few weeks ago. You have all been such an encouragement to me and it really has meant the world. If I happen to have any more problems with PPD or need advice of any sort, I know I have an amazing support group to turn to. I’m so thankful for you all!

Things I accomplished this weekend that I will remember when 2:00pm hits and I feel guilty for wanting to do nothing but lay in bed and watch What Not To Wear reruns

I’m trying this new thing today called Not Going Nuts. It’s all about not going nuts. Quite the concept, right?

No but really, I’m on the brink of a nesting-related meltdown. I am sitting at work right now, unable to concentrate on anything because of the list of things I have to do RIGHTTHISSECOND or I may in fact, die.

(Don’t question me on this… I’ve dropped dead at least 30 times in my life due to an ailment I like to refer to as Dramatics. It’s very real.)

I have accumulated so much makeup/hair/beauty-related junk under my bathroom sinks that I can’t think of doing anything but going through it all, tossing the old stuff and neatly organizing my nail polishes by color in a nice little basket. Or quite possibly lining them all up on a several little shelves on the wall like they do in the nail salon.

Actuallyyyyyy… that’s not that bad of an idea—NO, MORGAN! Focus.

Or how about working on those 4 tutorials I have in mind for this blog? Like the yarn wreath I promised I’d do like, a year ago? Or more like a month ago, but whatever? I’ll get to it, I promise.

This weekend I was super productive and I’m trying to keep that in mind right now. I am only one woman after all. I should be proud I accomplished the following in my beached whale-like state:

  • Washed/folded/put away 4 loads of laundry, including teeny tiny baby boy clothes (eeee!)
  • Went to dinner with friends
  • Organized kids’ room & closet
  • Made flag pennant to hang in kid’s room
  • Decorated kids’ room with new wall art
  • Made a cute blanket for Jack
  • Made some hair clips for a friend’s baby girl
  • Attended a wedding
  • Went grocery shopping
  • Scrubbed down kitchen
  • Dusted/vacuumed entire apartment
  • Painted two thrifted frames, hung them up in our bedroom
  • Organized Maddie’s 5 billion books
  • Organized Maddie’s 5 billion shoes
  • Lost 2lbs (Not kidding. There was no time for nacho consumption this weekend.)

I’m a machine… but an extremely exhausted machine.

I do have a little over a month left until the baby is supposed to arrive. There’s time to organize my nail polishes and you know what? If it doesn’t get done before Jack is born, oh well! OR I’ll just do it the day we come home from the hospital. I’ll need that extra space under the counters to store all my mesh-granny-panty-post-partum-yucky-supplies anyway. Priorities.

(HOLY CRAP. Just realized I need to make a list and pack the hospital bag. I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to bring. Something to do with a coming home outfit and nipple ointment. Haven’t I done this before?)

…This isn’t working.

Baby #2 – Twenty Six Weeks

Oooh okay, NOW I remember. This is the magical turning point in the pregnancy. The time where I’m juuuuust starting to feel normal and somewhat cute then my tiny little belly says, PSYCHE! and blows up to beast-status, the chipmunk cheeks make their grand return and I just look haggard no matter how much highlight powder I pile on my face.

26 Weeks pregnant with Madeline. Let's just not discuss this head to toe disaster.

Oh, pregnancy. You whore.

Despite the fact that my thighs are taking over the planet, I feel remarkably well! The baby is supposed to be somewhere around 2lbs right now, and I definitely believe it by how well I can feel his kicks and wiggles in there. Justin’s probably sick of me by now because I’m constantly bugging him to FEEL MY BELLEH! It’s just so crazy to think there’s a tiny person in there… I don’t think it’ll ever get old.

Okay, now I have kind of a sick question for you. I just had my monthly Chipotle lunch date with my friend Kristy who is due a few weeks before me. As usual we discussed our crazy symptoms, cravings and all the other gross stuff that we’re going through (it keeps us sane). Out of nowhere, I remembered something that happened at one of my very last checkups while pregnant with Maddie. It must have been just so traumatic that I blocked it from my memory, but I seriously can’t remember WHY it had to be done. So riddle me this… What exactly is the purpose of the butt swab at 36 weeks?

I’ll leave you now to ponder that.